AN: I am feeling much better today. Right now, I'm exhibiting no symptoms of COVID, so the worst seems to be behind me. I even get out of quarantine tomorrow (yay!). I may not be able to post much this week because work is going to be hectic, but I had time today and felt well enough to do so.

Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!

"What do you mean that bitch is publishing a story about me?"

The face in the embers recoiled at the volume of Cormac's voice.

"What gives her the right to write anything about me?"

"I don't know. I just thought you'd appreciate a warning, just to give yourself some time to make a counter story…"

"Why can't you do your job and make it impossible for her to publish this nonsense?" The vein in Cormac's neck was bulging. His face was as red as the ashes in the fireplace.

"I tried, but Cuffe loves the piece. He thinks the paper can do a larger expose on Ministry corruption. It's too good of a story to pass up, especially in light of all the problems the paper is having."

"The paper wouldn't have problems if they'd do their research and post accurate stories."

"Cuffe thinks this story is accurate enough."

"There's nothing accurate about this. I mean, when did harmless flirting become Ministry corruption?" Cormac took a swig of his whiskey. "Doesn't anyone understand the concept of playing hard to get?"

"Apparently, Braithwaite didn't see it as harmless flirting."

"Does nobody know what wooing a woman is anymore?"

"Apparently not."

Cormac grounded his teeth together.

"If you want, I can spend the evening digging up dirt on Braithwaite and her niece. With any luck, I can get another article written that shows them as rabid harpies bitter about some wrong done to them."

"Betty did have that breakup a few months ago." Cormac scratched his chin as his face began to return to its usual color.

"We can tie this to one of your political enemies, and show it's nothing more than a smear campaign."

"I like it." Cormac grinned as if he was a child who had just stolen the last cookie from the jar. "We can make this work for us."

"I'll come over tomorrow at nine and we can brainstorm some ideas."

"More like blame storm some ideas."

"Exactly." The face in the fireplace laughed.

"You've been a great help Ares." Cormac took another sip of his whiskey. "You will run The Prophet the second I become Minister of Magic."

"Really?"

Cormac nodded.

"Wow! I didn't even know you were running."

"I have been contemplating it for awhile, but I think this is the perfect time to begin testing the waters so to speak."

"You have my vote!"

"I know," Cormac sneered as he stared into the fireplace, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the high of his political aspirations.

"It is, as always, my pleasure doing business with you," Ares replied.

"The feeling is very mutual."

With that, the flames died.

Cormac strutted across the room to his scarlet sofa. He sat atop it and stretched out his legs. There was no need to fear this crisis. He'd find a way to garner the public's sympathy. After that, the opportunities were endless.

The room grew warm.

Cormac glanced at the ceiling. When all was said and done, he would come out on top, just as he always did. A little thing like crazy, sensitive Hermione wasn't going to stop him.

"Your shoes look nice."

Cormac's muscles tensed as the air left his lungs.

"I am impressed with how well-polished they are."

Cormac's heart was arrhythmic as his body ran cold. It had been years since he'd heard that voice. Listening to it had never been a pleasant experience. Still, it should have been silenced after the war. That man should no longer be able to speak to anyone...

"Not getting food poisoning helps keeps a good pair of shoes clean." A pause. "Then again, you'd know all about that, given how awful mine appeared after your little misadventure."

Cormac right in front of him. His breath left his body.

Even in death, Severus Snape was still wearing black, and his expression was as chilling as ever.

"What's wrong?" Snape smirked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Cormac blinked before rubbing his eyes. The spirit remained in place.

"Are you afraid you've gone mad?" Snape stepped closer to him "Or are you afraid I'm going to beat you over the head with a Champagne bottle again?"

"I vote for the Champagne bottle," another voice chimed in. "He deserves a good beating after everything he's put Hermione through."

Cormac glanced to his left. Another translucent man appeared. Unlike Snape, he was wearing a white robe. His long, luxurious hair was much less greasy than Snape's, but his expression was just as unfriendly. Had he seen his picture somewhere? Somehow he seemed familiar, but Cormac couldn't place him.

"You've been harassing Hermione for months now," the other spirit began. "She has pleaded with you to leave her alone, yet you continue to harass her."

"It ends tonight," Snape cut in.

"You." Cormac pointed to Snape. "You're just an illusion! I just got drunk! Nothing about you is real!"

"You've been nursing a double shot over the course of two hours," the other spirit approached Severus. "That's hardly drunk."

"It's the stress." Cormac sat up straighter. "I'm just stressed, that's all."

"Are you so stressed that you're seeing ghosts?" Snape grabbed the whiskey shot from his hands. Then, he dumped it on top of him.

Cormac screeched and stared at his now sticky shoes.

"Pity, your shoes were so well-polished."

"My shoes! My clothes!"

"What's wrong? Is your magic misfiring?" the other spirit noted.

"It must be," Snape drawled.

"What do you want?" Cormac demanded.

"We want you to promise never to harass Hermione again," Snape threw the glass across the room, shattering it.

"I haven't seen Hermione lately."

"You were in her store to gloat over how she'd gone mad two days ago."

"She has gone mad!" Cormac pointed to Severus.

"What makes you think that?"

"For one thing, she's been seeing you."

"Aren't you seeing him too?" The other spirit asked.

"I believe he is," Snape replied. "Either that, or he loves the sound of his voice so much that he's taken to monologuing."

"That could be the case."

"Listen, there's no reason to be here," Cormac argued. "What I did with Hermione was harmless flirting. There's no need for either of you to get involved."

"You terrorized her and spiked her Champagne with Amortentia."

"She," beads of sweat formed on Cormac's brow. "I was giving her a push towards me. She needed to lose up, and I was helping her do so. She would've liked it if you hadn't stepped in."

"You assaulted her."

"Well," Cormac snarled. "What would you know about any of this? Nobody ever loved you! You're just jealous of me."

"Why would I be jealous of you?"

"Because I have everything."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Look what I have!" Cormac threw up his arms. "I have a mansion, a prestigious career, and women love me. What do you have?"

"Hermione."

Cormac snorted.

"You need to make an unbreakable vow that you will no longer harass Hermione, either in person or in print. Starting tonight, you will cease all contact with her and not print any libel against her."

"Why would I make a deal with you? What can you do to me if I break it?"

"Admittedly, he can do nothing." A voice similar to Severus' rang out. "But I can do plenty to you."

Cormac turned to his right. A man in a red suit strolled over to them, his expression impassive.

"I know you," Cormac began. "You were that customer in the store the other day."

"Correct." The man gestured for Severus and Sirius to move to the side. The spirits complied.

"Do you have any idea how nutty Hermione is?" Cormac asked.

"She is perfectly sane."

"She's gone off her rocker I can prove it."

"While I would love to hear your nonsensical ramblings, I have more important things to do tonight. So I will get to my point," the man in the red suit began. "Repent of your actions, make an unbreakable promise never to harass Hermione again, and we will leave you unscathed."

"Why should I repent?" Cormac asked. "I've done nothing wrong."

"I take it that means you will not abstain from harassing Hermione Jean Granger."

"I won't see her anymore."

"But you're still going to publish that harmful story about her," the man continued.

"I just want to expose the truth," Cormac argued. "She's crazy, and I'm exposing her."

"Do you repent of your former actions?"

"There is no need to repent! I've done nothing wrong."

The man set his gaze upon heaven. "Let it be known and acknowledged that this mortal has had numerous chances to repent, and he has refused to do so. He has sinned against heaven and against you. Is he in my hands?"

A flash of lighting illuminated the room. Thunder crackled and roared. The ground shook.

For a few moments, all was silent and dark. Then, the man sprouted wings on his back. His eyes became dark as a black hole as a fiery wheel appeared in the sky behind him.

Snape diverted his eyes, though the other spirit stared at the angel, wide-eyed. Then, Snape yanked him down, pushed his head on the ground and turned away himself.

The angel's body glowed red until it was the same color as the wheel. Two more pairs of wings sprouted from his body, one near his head and the other near his now cloven feet. Eyes sprouted throughout his body as his head split into four. After the mutation, he had the head of an ox, an eagle, a man, and a lion.

Cormac stared at him transfixed. His throat went dry as his mouth hung open. The last thought he remembered having was "turn away. Turn away from him." Yet his body would not obey.

The entity let out a roar and flapped all his wings.

Cormac's world went black.