Ron slammed his coffee down on the table as he read the Prophet, his eyes widening in rage. "You've got to be kidding me!"

He took out his cell phone and called Harry. "We've got a problem."

"I saw." Harry replied grimly. "Should I take care of it?"

Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose. "No, we're going to have to play this carefully. They're already trying to paint her as a shrew because she's trying to reform the system, now they want to damage her credibility."

Splashed in front of him was a picture of Hermione on their honeymoon wearing a bikini. Where had they even found that picture? The conservative wizard voters already hated her, falling into their perceptions as a loose woman would sway the moderates too.

"I want you to use your contacts to find who leaked that photo and act accordingly. If they're going to play dirty, so are we."

Hermione entered the kitchen, quietly placing the kettle on the stove. "Did you finally see the paper, Ronald?"

"Hermione! Thank goodness you're here. We'll need to change focus today, I've got Harry no damage control, but you're going to have to make a statement." Ron said as he rushed over and placed his hands around her waist. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Are you ok?"

Hermione reached behind her and stroked his hair. She turned to kiss him back. "Never better," she replied. "They just want to cause panic before the debate but I'm going to stay focused on our mission. They can hide behind smoke and mirrors, but we have the facts on our side."

Ron frowned. "Hermione, I think we might have to change tactics if we are going to win this."

The kettle whistled. Ron released her as she lifted it off the stove and poured the boiling water in the teapot.

"Do you want any?" Hermione asked.

"God, yes. Should I get out the stronger stuff?"

"It's 9am, Ronald."

"Right. Well, I've left your schedule for the day at the table. Have some breakfast, then we'll head out. Today's the tour of the Nimbus factory, then we have a photo op with the workers. After that, you're going to the Squib care home, and we'll have a meeting with the mermish guild, though it's not like they can vote anyway."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not about the votes. It's about the platform. How will my constituents know I support Being rights if I don't have a productive dialogue with them?"

"Well, you've certainly done wonders with the werewolves- especially since they've been feeling a bit sore with the incumbent parties inability to keep their promises." Ron snorted. "But that is going to affect your standing with the wider bloc of voters in the Midlands. Hence why you need to be dressed in…" he checked his watch, "Ten minutes! Blimey, usually I'm the one making us late."

"We'll apparate in time," Hermione replied dismissively, nibbling at a toast. She glanced at her briefs.

"Have you decided on what you're going to wear?" Ron asked, exasperated.

"My usual pantsuit, obviously."

Ron groaned. "Hermione, we talked about this. You poll better in robes, or at least a proper dress. We can't have another snafu in the Prophet."

Hermione casually flipped through her papers. "The Prophet has already made up its mind on me, and my lack of 'polish', as they claim. I don't think trying to develop a sense of fashion is going to sway their opinion anytime soon."

"Well there's a wrap dress I've laid on my side of the bed and a matching blazer. Just...humor me? For once?"

Hermione sighed. "Is this as my husband or my campaign manager?"

"The latter, obviously. I personally couldn't care a whit if you turned up for your debate tonight in that dreadful pantsuit or in the buff. I think you look fearsome either way."

Hermione grinned. "Such attentive service, that's why I went with you over the big consultancy groups."

"Honestly love, if I'd still been working at my old firm you couldn't have afforded me." Ron chuckled.

Hermione wrinkles her nose. "Ten minutes, you said?"

"More like five now. I'll let you get ready." Ron kissed her goodbye. He was going to be busy tonight putting out a few fires.

—-

"So, did you find the leak?" Ron asked as they sat at the Costa. He made an effort of meeting Harry in Muggle places to attract less attention.

Harry nodded. "A freelance journalist and possibly more than the average paparazzi. They've been paid a salary, if you can believe it, to trail you both since the wedding."

Ron paled. "Blimey. That long?"

Harry took off his glasses and fiddled with them. "Whoever hires them has been in it for the long haul and this is the best they could do. It's certainly someone with deep pockets, and a grudge."

"Malfoy." Ron confirmed.

"Of course, two can play this game. It's not like Malfoy doesn't have his own secrets."

"What do you have in mind?" Ron asked.

"You know how he's been toting around his sick wife as part of his spiel on healthcare? What if we proved he hasn't been strictly faithful to his marital vows?"

"His base doesn't care about infidelity any more than they care about anything else you throw at him. Do you have anything more substantial?"

"Bribery or embezzlement? I have leads for both. But I do have at least three sources ready to speak on the cheating if you want to go with that now."

"Everyone knows the Malfoys are guilty of a bribe or two, but not even his old man was caught dipping into the jar. That might make the public angry enough. But as for the other thing, you know Hermione would be livid if we sink to their level."

"But don't we want to win?" Harry asked. "We can't have another decade of this party in power, not after the war."

Ron pursed his lips. It was the direct action of centuries of policies that lead to the situation they were in, especially the lingering effects of Minister Riddle and his war on inferior bloodlines. The party had rebranded with a young candidate, but it wasn't fooling anyone that cared.

"Fine, we go to the press. But leak it to the Quibbler first. That way we have some control over the story."

—

As the candidates stood at the podium, the crowd cheered, the division amongst the types of voters visible as the motley crowd of Muggleborns, Squibs, House Elves, and even Hagrid stuffed into a tiny folded chair were at odds with the stiff group of well dressed Purebloods clapping on Malfoy's side.

Hermione was cool and collected, but inside she was panicking. There were so many people out there counting on her. Could she do this? She wasn't a leader like Harry. Maybe this was a foolish idea.

"Granger." Hermione turned to the familiar voice. She could recognize that derision and its ability to turn her name into an insult.

"It's actually Granger-Weasley, but I could understand your confusion Mr. Malfoy," Hermione replied icily.

Draco laughed. "Yes. That is right, you married Weasel didn't you? Not like it's going to change your numbers in the polls marrying into a family like theirs."

Hermione's eyes flashed in rage. "I didn't marry him because of the bloody polls."

"Language, Granger. I just wanted to wish you luck before our debate. And remember, no hard feelings, alright? You've run an admirable campaign, there's nothing to be ashamed about conceding to me when the time comes." He lifted out his hand, ready to shake.

"I'll consider that, but for now I'm focused on trouncing you." Hermione replied.

Draco smirked. "We shall see."

"Welcome to the final debate for the Ministerial election. I'm Lee Jordan and you're listening to the Wizarding Wireless Network. The candidates Hermione Granger-Weasley and Draco Malfoy have taken the stand. We will begin with a few questions. Mr. Malfoy, how will you handle issues such as low unemployment and shrinking wages?"

"Excellent question, Mr. Jordan. I think our current unemployment system is rife with abuse, and that the numbers are too high. It's a drain to the taxpayer, and leaves glaring gaps for people who actually need these services. If elected, I will create more job training centres to put people to work and less focus on giving handouts."

"That's all very well, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione interrupted. "But what about individuals who can't work due to a disability or because they have to take care of a family member full time? We still need this service, and cutting it isn't going to solve the problem. If elected, I propose to expand on it."

"And who will pay for this expansion?" Malfoy sneered.

"The people, of course."

Malfoy laughed. "How easy for you to say that, Ms. Granger. We have the highest tax rate of any magical country in the world and this government doesn't have a clue about what to do with the revenue, wasting it on useless programs like the Werewolf Integration Committee and subsidizing the Knight Bus. We spend millions, and I mean millions of galleons on Hogwarts alone. Of course, this is why it is a shining beacon of what Wizarding Britain has to offer, but the curriculum is much too large, and with the ahem, increase of certain types of students coming in...do we need so many electives?"

"That should be an issue for the Board of Govenors, not the Ministry," Hermione replied. "And could you clarify what you mean by certain types of students?"

"I think it's clear enough," Malfoy said, glaring at her. "Did you know that the largest percentage of Obliviations occur due to Muggleborn students either through accidental magic or more commonly, practicing magic outside of school? And how much resources are wasted on funds to help provide school supplies or subsidize wand costs? This is your money, money that could go to St. Mungos for your treatments, or could stay in your pockets!"

The crowd cheered, while Hermione's side began to boo.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Magic isn't a zero sum game. By investing in students' future we will return dividends later on. And the increase in Muggleborn students is not enough to say the student fund is used exclusively by them, some halfbloods and even Pureblood families benefit from the subsidies too."

Malfoy sneered. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

"I think that's enough!" Lee cut in. "Let's move on to healthcare. Mr. Malfoy, if elected you promised to spend more funding on finding cures for rare curses…."

—

"I can't believe that...ugh!" Hermione slammed the door to her dressing room and sat at her vanity, hiding her face in her hands. The Sleakeasy's in her hair was wearing off as her curls started to burst forth in a ratty halo of frizz.

"All things considered, it could've gone worse."

"It was a nightmare, Ronald. I blew it." Hermione moaned.

Hermione heard a rap at the door. "Come in."

"I brought chamomile tea, and Sugar quills" Harry said as he entered the room. Hermione eagerly accepted it.

Hermione hugged him. "You're a lifesaver, Harry."

She ripped open the bag of candy and grabbed a quill, sucking it anxiously.

"But I think it went ok," Harry said. "There was a lot of talk out in the stands. They do love you out there, Hermione."

"But will that be enough?" She asked. "Malfoy has the funds, and the support of the traditionalists."

"They're a dying bunch. Really, their only sway is if they can intimidate enough people not to go out and vote at all." Ron replied honestly.

"And we've got people on it." Harry said. "I talked to the DA, and most of them are willing to canvass for us. Neville and Luna are even going to drive people to the polls on Election Day."

"And while Malfoy's goons have been using strong arm tactics, he can't get away with what the old guard did before. There's too much accountability now," Hermione added. She sighed. "Thanks, I needed this. But we've still got a long way to go. What's our strategy now?"

"Keep doing what you're doing," Ron urged. "You have the issues on your side."

—

Two days before the election the story broke about Malfoy's mistresses. While one or two might have been frowned upon, five was certainly enough to cause scandal. Especially when three of them were Muggleborn, one currently with child.

"Did you do this?" Hermione asked angrily as she hit Ron with the morning edition of the Quibbler.

She turned on the radio, and sure enough, Malfoy was making a statement denying the allegations with his wife by his side.

"It's evening the odds, if they're going to play this game we need to fight dirty too," Ron said.

"What about the issues? We were going to win this fair!" Hermione shouted.

"We still are!" Ron shouted back. "This isn't going to change anything, you still stand for the same values, but we can't just roll over and take this."

"But do we have to resort to this...lurid trash? How'd you get Luna to print this anyway?"

"I might've...convinced her you'd do an exclusive of elected and you'd confirm whether or not the Rotfang conspiracy was legit if you get elected."

"Ronald! Sometimes you're just...unbelievable."

"It's not all lurid trash, as you've put it, there's some details on the next page of a history of embezzlement of Ministry funds, funneling the money to offsite Gringotts accounts in Atlantis. One of the key players is our dear friend Malfoy."

Hermione frowned. "I suppose you released this information out of a civic minded sense of justice?"

"We did plan on exposing corruption in the system."

"But not like this," Hermione hissed. She stood up. "I don't know even if it's worth it, being Minister after all."

Ron moved towards her, staring into her eyes as they were centimeters apart. "Well, we will find out soon enough whether you need to even worry about that. But you aren't doing this for yourself. And I'm not doing this just to get you elected. Think about your platform. The House elves, the Squibs, the Werewolves. We can't help them at all if we don't at least try everything we can to get you sworn in."

Hermione wiped her eyes. "I'm still very mad at you."

"I know."

"But you're right. We have work to do."