As usual, everything but the plot belongs to JK rowling.
Chapter 6
After owling into work, and starting a very large, very strong pot of coffee, Hermione flooed Malfoy and told him to get his pale arse to her flat, immediately.
Malfoy stumbled out the floo a mere three minutes later, and she already had a cup of hot coffee waiting for him. She had prepared it just the way he liked it, with cream, no sugar, and a very strong stasis charm.
They sat in silence for a few moments, using their drinks as an excuse to mull over their own thoughts.
"I know we have been planning for this," Hermione finally spoke, "but what do we do now?"
"We fight back," Draco stated plainly. "We planned for him to start off slower, to introduce himself as a more moderate candidate, when in fact he might has well have declared that you are the antichrist. "
"How do you know what the antichrist is Malfoy? That's a muggle expression. I almost feel as if I might be rubbing off on you."
"Don't flatter yourself, Granger, I read. I know you are used to Potty Mouth and Weasel, so this may come as a surprise, but you are not the only one who has more than a tentative grasp on the English language."
Hermione was surprised to find that she had no urge to defend them. Honestly, she felt quite exhausted of trying to stay loyal to them, when they obviously did not hold the same conviction towards her. She sat quietly for a moment, absorbed in thought.
"I just can't help but think that if people could really walk a mile in another's shoes, they would see right through his 'tradition' shite," She mused aloud.
"Well let's make them do just that then," Draco replied.
"What do you mean?"
"I think I have an idea," Draco began, "We take out a huge ad in the Daily prophet every Sunday until the election. That's about 12 weeks still, right?"
"Okay, I am fine with ad's," Hermione said slowly, "but how does that have anything to do with what we were talking about?"
"Just let me finish Granger! Keep your knickers on for a moment. These aren't going to be your run of the mill political ads. We will frame them as articles. You want people to be able to see our society from the perspective of the people you are fighting for. Well, let's give them that perspective! We get muggleborns, werewolves, anyone facing oppression under 'tradition' and have them give their side of the story, like a peek into their day to day lives. It will humanize them to the public, and you don't even have to put your name on it. The point is that people read it and think 'Hmm maybe that Granger girl has the right of things," saying the last part in a humorous old man voice.
"I knew I hired you for a reason," Hermione said with a smirk.
They needed to get started right away, as it was Friday and the first ad would run in two days time.
The first thing Hermione did was owl the ministry to ask for an extended leave of absence until the election was over. At which time, she would either return to work, or help find her replacement. If they were going to do this campaign right, she would need to dedicate all her time to it.
After several hours of heated debate on who should be featured in the first ad, they still had not come to an agreement.
"Grangipoo, I'm hungry," whined Draco, in his most annoying voice.
"I'm not your house elf, go get something out of the fridge," Hermione retorted.
"I tried that an hour ago, all you have in there is alcohol and half a jar of pickles," said Draco, eyebrows raised.
"Get your judgemental eyebrows away from me! And fine! We will go to Diagon Alley, I need to pick up something at the apothecary anway."
"Grangiboo, why couldn't we have just gone to the Leaky Cauldron first," Draco continued his whining, trailing behind Hermione towards the apothecary. "We were in there, Hermione! We flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, and you made us leave so you could get some weird something or other at the apothecary."
"You know, you could have just stayed behind and gotten us a table," Hermione replied. "I didn't say you had to come with me."
"I wasn't about to stay in that wretched hole by myself! What if some commoner tried to talk to me? Gross!" Draco dramatized. Hermione simply rolled her eyes in response.
After watching Hermione dawdle indecisively about whether to buy whole lacewing flies or ground lacewing flies, Draco finally hurried her out of the shop. Couldn't she see he was dying here? He hadn't eaten since breakfast, she really would be a terrible house elf.
Draco was so caught up in his internal grumblings that he didn't notice Molly Weasley walking down the street until she was storming towards them with a look that Draco could only describe as "murder eyes."
Hermione seemed glued to the spot. When Molly stopped dead in front of her, she managed a shaky "Good afternoon Molly, how are you?"
"HOW AM I?" the Weasley Matriarch cried. "How do you think I am? We took you into our home! We treated you like one of our own, and this is the thanks you give us?! Not only did you decide to try to upstage my precious Percy, but you had the nerve to cheat on my poor baby Ronald with this, this, this SNAKE!"
Draco expected Hermione to be frozen in shock, but the reality was quite the opposite. She firmly stood her ground opposite the red-headed woman.
"Molly," she firmly began, "I think you've gotten the wrong end of the stick. I declared my candidacy before Percy did. I suspected he might want to run, but he hadn't said anything to me. Even if he had, I think that I deserve a chance just as much as he does. As for Ronald, he broke up with me weeks ago, after calling me quite a few names I won't stoop to repeat. He did this before Draco became my campaign manager. Yes, campaign manager, and that's all he is."
Molly's eyes still shone with fire as she replied. "Sure, I've heard all about your little 'campaign manager,' and I don't believe that's all this is. Not for one second! I thought I would have you as a daughter someday, but I should have seen you for what you truly are, a social climbing tramp!" Molly screamed.
"I'm sorry that's how you feel Molly. Give my best to Arthur," Hermione calmly replied.