AN: Hey hey party people! I had to speed write this chapter today because work has been stealing all of my time lately. But it's still Thursday! Thank you as always to everyone who favorite and leave reviews, you make my week and keep me excited to post the next chapter. Love to you all, and I hope you have a great week!

—..—

With how often Hermione paced in her small, muggle flat it was a miracle there wasn't a permanent pale worn in the floor.

Her body vibrated with a restless energy she couldn't shake. Lunch that afternoon had been such a strange affair that she wasn't entirely sure it hadn't been a fever dream.

She, Ginny, and Luna had lunch with Pansy Parkinson. And not just lunch, but a civil and voluntary lunch. She was still reeling from how normal it had felt. After they had all gotten through the small talk and forced pleasantries, and Ginny's poorly veiled insults, the four women had gotten along surprisingly well.

Mutual hatred for a specific individual can really bring people together, she thought with bitter satisfaction.

There had been the obligatory murder plots of course and plans of clever disappearances, but once they had settled down to really plan how to bring Rita Skeeter to her knees a clear plan had begun to form between them. Hermione had been reluctant at first, battling with her morality and her need to just move past it all, but Parkinson had been almost too good at getting Hermione to focus on her anger and righteous indignation. It made her wary but also develop a begrudging admiration for Parkinson's ability to manipulate people into seeing things her way.

If she was being honest with herself, she was almost grateful for it. If Parkinson hadn't been there, Hermione would have very easily let her anger fizzle out into a dull throb in the back of her mind and gone home to bury herself under blankets until the whole thing was forgotten in light of the next big scandal.

But now?

Her anger burned in her chest. It had wrapped itself around her forgiving heart and held it captive. She had been lenient with Rita Skeeter in the past but no longer.

She paused in her pacing and allowed a small, wicked grin the creep onto her face.

The plan Parkinson had suggested was almost perfect. They had all agreed that retaliation from Hermione and her friends was expected, and they would have to be careful not to get themselves in trouble along with her. Unfortunately subtlety and cleverness were not the most prominent characteristics in their friend group, but that was why Parkinson had come to help. She had suggested they allow Rita Skeeter to ruin herself.

Hermione resumed her pacing.

Scheming was all well and good, but the most important part, the details of 'how', needed work. Ideally, they would find a way to expose Rita Skeeter without having to be directly involved, ultimately enabling the Wizarding World itself to ruin Skeeter and reduce her reputation to the dirt that it was. They wanted Skeeter's fall from grace to be painful and permanent, and the only way to do that would be for her audience to do it themselves.

Her large audience, Hermione noted. She was getting that feeling of being on the verge of realization. Her large audience that she had written horrible, publicly shaming pieces about. Was there anyone Rita Skeeter hadn't written horrible things about?

Hermione's pacing slowed until she stood before her window, gazing through the glass without really seeing what lay beyond. She chewed thoughtfully on her thumbnail and squinted. Perhaps that was exactly what they needed.

Rita Skeeter had been writing for the Daily Prophet long before she wrote such slander about Hermione and Harry. So much time, and so many articles. There must be a vast amount of victims that she had written about and ruined, and if Hermione could get in touch with them and convince them to come forward…

The Quibbler had gained plenty of traction over the last few years as well. When it had come to light that Luna's father was the editor, a true friend of Harry Potter, and that the Quibbler had been the only one to write the truth during the War, the Quibbler had swiftly become the number one source of news for wizarding families much to the chagrin of everyone at the Daily Prophet. It wouldn't take much for Luna to convince Xenophilius to write the truths about Rita Skeeter and her past transgressions.

She would have to get her hands dirty no matter what she decided to do.

A small part of her cringed away at the idea, but she knew Rita Skeeter would go on hurting other people until someone stopped her. If that had to be Hermione and her friends, then so be it.

She made her way over to her writing desk and pulled out several sheets of parchment. Eyeing her quill and ink pot for a moment, she dug around in a drawer and pulled out a standard ink pen instead. She had several letters to write and knew finding the right words would be difficult and time consuming. She would rather not have to struggle with a quill and ink at the same time.

—..—

Theo was by far the calmest person in his group of friends. Rarely anxious and relatively level headed, he prided himself on being able to approach any situation without nerves or fears.

So why were his hands shaking?

He flexed his fingers several times before shoving them into his pockets and out of sight. He had a nervous energy thrumming through him that he wasn't used to. Logically, he knew there was no point in being anxious over a conversation he hadn't even had yet. Logically, he knew nothing truly terrible could come even as a worst case scenario.

Logically, he knew he was behaving in a ridiculous manner.

But that small voice in the back of his mind, the one so full of mockery and malice, whispered the most horrible ideas. He had behaved horribly to her. She had every right to hate him, to turn him away and tell him to never come back. He had ruined yet another friendship in a potentially irreparable way. Another failure.

He shook his head to clear this thoughts and gazed determinedly ahead.

Virago stood before him, as intimidating as a tiny storefront could be. He could see the cheerful interior through the front window and it taunted him, reminding him of the safe haven he had potentially lost. The open sign hanging in the window stared back, as though asking, 'Well, are you coming in?'

With a deep breath, he did. The bell over the door sounded so much louder than it had before, and announced his presence to anyone inside. He only had to wait a moment before Hermione came out of the back, a cheerful and welcoming smile on her face.

The smile froze and became a little forced when she saw him standing by the door.

"Hello, Theo."

"I wanted to apologize," he said quickly.

She seemed startled slightly but motioned for him to continue.

"My behavior over the week has been unacceptable, and I apologize if I hurt you in any way. I left you to deal with the article alone despite it including both of us which undoubtedly made you feel even worse, and I have no excuse for it."

She continued to look at him with an unreadable expression, neither condemning nor forgiving, and it made the words tumble from his mouth even faster.

"If I'm entirely honest with you, I was afraid. Fear is a difficult thing for a Slytherin to confess to, especially to someone who they haven't known for very long, but I was. I was afraid our friendship was ruined so quickly, or that you believed I had something to do with the article." He felt a prick of pain in his hand and realized that he was picking at his fingers again. He shoved his hands further into his pocket so she wouldn't see, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I hope you can forgive me, but I understand if you would rather I leave."

Hermione waited for several moments to make sure he had said everything he needed to, and when he remained silent she smiled gently. "Theo." She waited until he was looking at her and said, "There is nothing to forgive."

His surprise was so swift and severe that it was written all over his usually composed face.

"You did nothing wrong," she said softly. She wanted to touch him, reassure him in her sincerity, but knew better. "The article was out of your control, neither of us knew she had taken those pictures, and I have no doubt that you would have stopped her if you had known."

He nodded emphatically. He would go to extreme lengths to stay out of the papers, especially in such a negative light.

"Then what could you possibly need to apologize for?"

"You were alone."

She nodded seriously but the smile didn't leave her lips. "I was, but I have been alone for more difficult things than this. Everyone handles things in their own way, Theo. Some people need to be alone and think, others need to be surrounded by friends and vent. Neither is better than the other."

Theo shifted on his feet, unbalanced by how the conversation had turned out. He had played out an endless amount of possible scenarios in his head, but none of them involved Hermione being so calm and understanding. It truly amazed him.

"So we can still be friends?"

Hermione seemed as surprised by the question as Theo was. "Of course we're still friends." A small laugh escaped her and she asked incredulously, "Did you think something as little as thing would make me no longer want to be friends with you?"

Theo tried not to look embarrassed. "It didn't seem like a small thing at the time."

"Give me a little credit," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I've been through more than bad press with Harry and Ron during school. A few poorly captioned pictures aren't going to scare me."

A smile crept its way onto Theo's lips. "No, I suppose they pale in comparison to trolls and dragons."

"They absolutely do."

They made their way back into her office so they could sit comfortably before her fireplace while they talked. Hermione also knew her drink cupboard might come in handy if Theo was still feeling tense from his apology. She looked over at him and took in his tense posture.

Hermione itched to hug him, knowing hugs fixed any fight she had with her friends in the past, but she hesitated. Theo was different. Compared to the loud and rambunctious Weasleys she had grown up with, or even Harry at times, she wasn't sure how to approach him with physical touch. Come to think of it, she had never seen any of the Slytherins in school display affection to each other.

Before she realized what she was doing, she asked, "Can I hug you?"

He blinked, then blinked again. She could see the question being processed behind his eyes, and he slowly said, "No one has ever asked to hug me before."

"You've never been hugged before?" Her voice was much louder than she intended, but she was truly horrified by the idea.

"No, no," he said quickly and held up his hands as though to stop her train of thought. "I have been hugged before, plenty of times in fact. My mother hugged me quite often as a child." He scratched the back of his neck and said, "I meant no one has asked for permission to hug me, they usually do so without warning."

"Oh." She tried to fight against the blush rising to her cheeks. "I suppose that makes sense. I only ask because I wasn't sure if you would be comfortable with it."

He cleared his throat and looked equally as flustered. "I believe it's a common action between friends."

"Merlin, Theo," she laughed. "Let's just forget I asked." She turned away from him to walk over to the cabinet next to her desk and missed Theo's relieved sigh. "I'm glad you're here, we've addressed the article, why don't we move past the whole thing?"

"Yes, please," he said with a voice full of gratitude.

Hermione came back over to him, revealing two glasses in her hands. "How is your tattoo healing?"

He accepted the drink with a nod of thanks and took a careful sip, enjoying the warmth of the brandy. "It healed very well," he said and showed her his arm.

Theo had taken to rolling up the sleeves of his shirts to his elbows so his tattoo could be seen by anyone looking. He was so incredibly proud of it, of the magic Hermione had worked on him, that he wanted the whole world to see it. To see that he could change, that mistakes were made but needn't be permanent.

She turned his arm this way and that, examining every inch of his ink with the trained eye of an expert. When she let go of his arm, it was with a smug smile.

"Some of my best work, I'd say." She gestured towards his shoulder with her glass and asked, "What about the rest of it?"

"Just as well." He reached for the top button of his shirt but hesitated. Rita Skeeter's article was still fresh in his mind, and if such innocent pictures could be damning, then one of him shirtless…

She saw his hesitation and said, "That's alright, I can take your word for it."

He let go of the shirt button and frowned. "Pansy told me she met with you the other day."

Hermione frowned slightly and began to worry her bottom lip between her teeth. "Yes, she did."

"Can I help."

"No," she said without any hesitation. "The fewer people involved the better."

They were interrupted by the sound of the front bell ringing, and Hermione left him to go see who it was. Theo remained in her office, comfortable in the quiet space while he waited for her to come back.

He thought about Pansy, Skeeter's article, and the potential ramifications of a friendship between Pansy and Hermione. The thought filled him with a small amount of fear, not for himself but for the rest of the world. Both witches were a force to be reckoned with on their own, but together? Rita Skeeter wouldn't stand a chance.

Theo allowed himself a moment of smug satisfaction. It would be nothing less than she deserved. He contented himself with his glass of brandy and daydreams of karmic retribution.

When Hermione came back into the office she was grumbling under her breath and looked frustrated.

Theo was about to ask who had come by, but was interrupted by Hermione all but throwing herself onto the couch across from him. It was very reminiscent of Blaise, he thought with amusement.

"Starting tomorrow I am fully booked on appointments for the rest of the week. The witch that just came in was less than pleased to have to wait that long and demanded I schedule her appointment sooner."

Theo raised an eyebrow and asked skeptically, "Does she expect you to clone yourself?"

"That's what I said," she exclaimed in exasperation. "I told her there's only one of me, so I can only do one appointment at a time. You would have thought I had told her to wait a year with how angry she got."

"Did you tell her to leave."

"Of course I did." She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed loudly. "But this isn't the first time this has happened. I need to come up with a better solution than telling the rude ones to leave."

He nodded sympathetically and lapsed into quiet thought. Unfortunately, he didn't know much about running a business and was unsure of what solutions he could offer her. Magical tattoos were such a new concept that Hermione wasn't able to merely go out and hire an extra artist to help her.

"Would you be interested in apprenticing with me?"

Theo tried to suppress the rush of surprise excitement that swept through him. He had been hoping for such an offer from her but was not expecting it at all today. He smiled widely at her and said, "I would love to."

"Really?" She seemed genuinely surprised by him agreeing. "You would?"

"Of course I would."

She beamed at him, and he couldn't help but smile back.

"You're a life saver, Theo. This is will fix so many of my problems here." She jumped up from the couch and rushed to her desk. "We can work up a contract today, if you have time. There are some specifics we'll have to go over like availability and pay."

He watched her flutter about the desk like the bees in his mother's garden. Frantic activity and exuberance. "You don't have to pay me," he offered.

The look she gave him silenced any of his protests, and he knew having her as a mentor would be an extremely unique experience.