.

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Monday, 30 July 2012

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"To Hermione. The best Minister for Magic we could ask for!"

"Hear, hear!"

Harry and Ron raised their glasses and Hermione could hear a picture being snapped somewhere in the background.

"Tone it down boys. Just because I wanted to be seen with you doesn't mean we have to draw attention to ourselves."

Harry just chuckled, as Ron joked in a more normal tone: "So have you read through every book in the muggle library on how to successfully win an election."

"No, but that is not a bad idea actually:"

"Too bad wizarding elections are so different from the muggle ones. No TV adds, no giant billboards and no campaign tours or anything."

"Maybe the wizarding world could use with some muggle flare. Maybe I can put up a 10 meter tall statue of myself on top of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes holding a sign saying 'Vote for me' or something."

"That would probably lose you more votes than it would gain you. The wizarding world is more subtle about these things than the muggles are."

"So how do I get the votes?"

"By having drinks in public with the saviour of wizardkind," Harry joked nonchalantly.

"You should publish an autobiography." Ron said more seriously.

"Be serious, Ron"

"I am being serious. It's the thing to do. I'm sure the other candidates will be coming out with theirs soon."

At that point Neville suddenly sat himself down at the table.

"Not every day one sees you lot out in public."

And suddenly there were hugs all around with exclamations of "Neville!" and "Mate, whats up?"

More drinks and nachos were ordered as they caught up with Neville. There were advantages and disadvantages to being out at the Leaky Cauldron. A lot of people went through here, so there was limited privacy. But every now and then someone would stop by the table that one wouldn't have seen otherwise. Even Ginny happened to be passing through the Leaky Cauldron. She stopped for a minute, hugged the lot of them but gracefully declined when Ron tried to convince her to stay for drinks, pointing out to him that the kids should be rescued from the Burrow sooner rather than later. One never knew what mischief they could get themself into there.

Hermione admitted to herself that not only was she having a great time, she was also getting a whole lot of good publicity. She almost missed it when her fred gave a little pling.

[Draco:] How are things going?

[Hermione:] Not bad. Just sitting here with Harry, Ron, Neville and Padma.

[Draco:] Sounds like a fun little gathering of lions..

[Hermione:] Padma was in Ravenclaw. It was her sister who was in Gryffindor.

[Draco:] Potato - Potato. Heros, the lot of you.

[Draco:] I have a couple of new things to add to your agenda.

[Draco:] You there?

[Hermione:] Yes

[Draco:] I have 4 tickets to the quidditch game on Thursday. Take some heros with you.

[Hermione:] Ok, I'll ask.

[Draco:] Remember what I said about keeping my name out of it

[Hermione:] OK

[Draco:] And then there is a gala on Friday, but we can talk about that later.

[Draco:] Granger, you there? What did they say about Thursday?

[Hermione:] No, I'm not here.

[Draco:] What?

[Hermione:] I'm out having a lovely time with my friends, as ordered. Stop bugging me.

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Tuesday, 31 July 2012

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[Draco:] Rise and shine. It's time to take over the world.

Hermione was making tea, which was something she rarely got to do. With several house elves around it was a wonder she even got to dress herself.

[Hermione:] I'm awake.

[Draco:] So you are talking to me today?

[Hermione:] Well, technically I am messaging you.

[Draco:] Did you read the Prophet yet?

[Hermione:] Reading it now.

Hermione sat down at her kitchen table and spread the Daily Prophet out in front of her. She had already read through the Quibbler and the White Wizard, which was a newspaper based in Hogsmeade. Draco had been right. Election fever seemed to have gripped the wizarding population and more than half of the articles in the papers had to do with the upcoming election. Draco had been right on insisting she go out with the boys yesterday. There were some lovely pictures of them and the text accompanying the pictures was on a positive note. This was good publicity. Obviously there had been photographers out trailing the other candidates too, some of which had not been as fortunate as she was. There was a picture of Septima Vector in a bathrobe and bunny slippers letting out her cat and Neolin Parkinson had not ventured out been seen at all so there were speculations about him being ill. Obviously made up rumors, but it showed Hermione that feeding the press with something to write about was obviously a necessity. She was going to have to answer all those requests for interviews today.

[Draco:] What do you think of page 3?

On page 3 there was an in depth coverage on what could be expected during the coming weeks. Due to the large number of candidates the Ministry was going to organize events to give the wizarding population a fair chance to "get to know the candidates". It was also explained that to win the election it was not enough to get a majority. That majority had to be over 40% of the votes. With so many candidates running this was unlikely to happen so in all probability there would be a second election a week after the first one between the top two candidates only.

[Hermione:] Sounds like this will be a complete circus and I have signed up as the main attraction.

[Draco:] Better you than me.

[Hermione:] I am going to regret this, aren't I?

[Draco:] Just remember how thoroughly incompetent the other candidates would be at the post.

[Hermione:] It will become my new mantra.

[Draco:] So can we talk about the Quidditch game on Thursday?

[Hermione:] Yes, yes. Ron can't make it so it will be me, Harry, Ginny and Neville.

[Draco:] Sit between the Potters so it doesn't look like double date - you know how the press is.

[Hermione:] Seriously? They would sink that low?

[Draco:] Have you met the press?

[Hermione:] OK, yes, you are right. They would.

[Draco:] And then there is the gala on Friday.

[Hermione:] Remind me.

[Draco:] Daphne and Alexey are hosting a gala for no good reason and you need to be there.

[Hermione:] Why?

[Draco:] Do I really need to answer that?

[Hermione:] No

[Draco:] Probably best if you do not show up with a date this time. Establish yourself as independent.

[Hermione:] Will I know anyone there?

[Draco:] The usual purebloods will be there.

[Hermione:] Does that mean Ron is invited?

[Draco:] Hahaha… you are too funny. I should so put him on the list. That would be funny.

[Hermione:] I agree. Seeing him squirm and decidedly not look at a certain Slytherin of his.

[Draco:] That would be priceless. I will check the guest list and let you know who will be there.

[Hermione:] You do that.

[Draco:] Any chance Potter can be convinced to have his birthday party somewhere spectacular tonight?

[Hermione:] Have you met Harry? No, it will be a quiet dinner for a few friends at his house.

[Draco:] Can we at least invite the press?

[Hermione:] No.

[Draco:] Bummer.

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Thursday, 2 August 2012

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People took notice when they saw four very famous faces trying to find their seats. Heads turned and fingers pointed. This endless attention was why they, and especially Harry, preferred staying in to going out. They finally spotted their seats and headed for them.

"How did you score these seats? These must have cost a fortune."

"I am running for Minister for Magic. Apparently that comes with benefits"

"Remind me to stay friends with you."

Hermione hit Harry for that comment and told him to move so she could make sure they sat down in the "Draco approved" formation. Her and Harry in the middle, Neville besides Harry and Ginny besides her.

"So where are the kids today?"
"With mum at the Burrow" Ginny answered. "And thank you again for inviting us. I needed some grown-up time."

"Don't mention it. So who's playing?"

"You don't know who's playing? You do not deserve this seat, Hermione. There are people willing to pay ten times the original price to get tickets to this game and here you are and you don't know who's playing."

"Not a clue. Are you going to tell me or just torture me about it?"

"This is supposed to be a friendly training match between the English and the French national teams. But I bet it's going to be anything but friendly."

"I see. Well, let's just try to have some fun despite the cameras that undoubtedly will be on us all night instead of on the game."

- # - # - # - # - # - # - # - # - # -

[Hermione:] Urgh. My face hurts from smiling for the cameras.

[Draco:] Did you at least have a little fun?

[Hermione:] Quidditch isn't really my thing, but the company was good and I faked it.

[Draco:] Don't ever say that again. You would lose so many votes if people knew you disliked quidditch.

[Hermione:] I don't dislike the game. It's just not on my top 10 favourite things to do.

[Draco:] Well being a public figure sucks. Live with it. From now on you love quidditch.

[Hermione:] Yes, sir.

[Draco:] By the way. Wasn't that the same outfit you had on last Sunday?

[Hermione:] Same top, different pants. You were at the game?

[Draco:] Of course I was. I, unlike some people, love quidditch.

[Hermione:] I love quidditch (as I was told to do from now on a few minutes ago).

[Draco:] Say it fifty times and it may start to sound believable.

[Hermione:] I love quidditch, I love quidditch, I love quidditch, I love quidditch.

[Draco:] Enough of that and back to scheming. You need to watch what you wear.

[Hermione:] You don't like my wardrobe?

[Draco:] I am sure your wardrobe is fine, but you are going to be in the paper A LOT for the next few weeks.

[Draco:] That means you probably need a bigger wardrobe with a lot more clothes.

[Hermione:] I hate shopping.

[Draco:] I will think of something. Maybe I will send Pannsy to go shopping for you.

[Hermione:] Don't you dare.

[Draco:] Try to stop me.

[Hermione:] I am a witch. Watch out. I will use my magical magic on you.

[Draco:] I wonder if that threat works on anyone.

[Hermione:] Probably not.

[Draco:] Do you at least have something presentable to wear tomorrow?

[Hermione:] Of course I do. Stop insulting my fashion sense.

[Draco:] What fashion sense?

[Hermione:] Shut up.

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Friday, 3 August 2012

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Hermione was talking to herself. The house elves were used to this and ignored her. Just another adorable quirk of their mistress.

"Breathe in, breathe out. Just step into the floo and pretend like you belong there. This will be fine. Stay an hour. Two at most. And then you are home and can take a long bath and finish that chapter you started earlier."

Hermione opened her eyes, gathered her courage and stepped through calling "Greengrass manor" as she apparated.

She stepped out of a grand fireplace and into a large room with high roof windows and a balcony lining the walls and bar to the side were several people were fetching themselves drinks.

Daphne and presumably her new husband Alexey were there to greet her with a hug and a handshake.

"Hermione. Welcome! So glad you could make it. It is a bit of a madhouse here. Apparently word got out that all the candidates would be here tonight so the guest list almost doubled today. We had to move the dinner outside, but since the weather is great it all worked out."

"Daphne, darling. Try to breathe."

Daphne looked adoringly at Alexey for a moment and then her focus was back on Hermione.

"Just try to enjoy yourself and let me know if there is anything I can do for you. With the last minute changes the seating arrangement went out the window so there is no assigned seating. We will just have to wing it."

"I am sure everything is lovely, Daphne. Don't worry about me."

As the next guests arrived her hosts turned away from her, leaving her to wander slowly to the bar. After getting one for herself she followed as people made their way into the back garden. It was stunning. You never would have believed that this was a last minute arrangement. There was a glowing moon hovering over each large circular table, enchanted stars dancing about like flocks of birds and faint music emanating from the rose bushes. It was truly magical. Beyond the tables there was a stage where a band was setting up. The garden stretched on with benches and alcoves where people could sit and enjoy themselves. Everything was set for a great evening.

To Hermione's great relive she spotted familiar faces in the crowd. Bill and Fleur were here. But before she could get to them she found herself being greeted by wizards and witches that obviously knew her more than she knew them. It wasn't until the food was about to be served that she made it to Bill and Fleur and gratefully managed to seat herself at their table.

Bill quickly introduced her to the rest of the table. Pansy's older brother Ewan was there with his wife but she did not recognise anyone else at the table. Her smiling face was starting to ache when her fred gave a pling.

[Draco:] You are doing fine. Keep it up.

[Hermione:] This is painful. Pure torture.

[Draco:] And soon there will be dancing and all those pompous wizards will want to twirl you around.

[Hermione:] Merlin save me.

[Draco:] I am no Merlin, but you can give me a pling later and I will send someone to save you.

[Hermione:] You better.

And once again Draco was right. As soon as the dancefloor opened an wizard she remembered from Hogwarts a few years above her was there asking her to dance. After that it was Lee Jordan, journalist extraordinaire, who got a dance.

"My darling Hermione. Finally a member of the golden trio willingly stepping out into the spotlight. This will be fun."

"It will eat me alive this will. I don't know what came over me. I must be mad."

"No, this will be tons of fun."

"For you maybe."

"I'll be kind. Don't worry. Now give me your fred."

"What? So you can pester me at all hours of the day?"

"Pretty much. We are going to be best of friends now, you and I. I'm on air for an hour every day and you should consider dropping by as often as you can for a chat. It's good publicity."

"Why didn't you put your name forward, Lee. People know you. I bet people would have liked to vote for you."

"I already have a job. Besides, being on the side-line like this is way more fun. I get to laugh and make fun of the ministry instead of trying to fix it."

And it never stopped. Even Marcus Flint, now a professional quidditch player, danced with her for a few minutes. She was swirled and twirled by a line of wizards all battling for her attention.

Then she suddenly found herself facing a fellow candidate Thomas Bulstrode.

"Ah, Ms. Granger. May I have this dance."
"Mr. Bulstrode. I would be honoured."

She tried to recall what Draco had said about Thomas, but she was drawing a blank. She knew the basics of course. Magical historian and accomplished author, both fiction and factual. Pureblood and wealthy. At least on paper he seemed like the ideal candidate to run for Minister of Magic.

"I must say that I admire your spirit. It is refreshing to have someone of the younger generation show some interest in politics."

"I am not that young. Only a couple of decades younger than yourself, Mr. Bulstrode. I am hardly a teenager anymore."

"It is still admirable."
"Thank you."

"You are a fine young woman, and may I just add that you look splendid this evening."

As Thomas showered her with compliments Hermione grew weary. She knew that if Harry had found himself in a similar situation he would have immediately demanded that the pompous wizard cut to the chaise and told him what he wanted. But she was in politics now and had to play the game. After a good while filled with light banter she started to see where this was leading and when it clicked she was so shocked she forgot to filter what came out of her mouth.

"... as representing a minority of the magical population.."

"Excuse me Mr. Bulstrode. Are you trying to get me to endorse your candidacy?"

"Well, yes Ms. Granger. I think we would make an admirable team. Your post-war connections…"
"You do realize that I am running against you."

"And if you feel you must continue with that then we can wait with the endorsement until the second round of the election."

"And what if I get through the first round and you don't? Are you willing to offer me a similar endorsement at that point?"

Mr. Bulstrode just chuckled at that as they glided across the dancefloor. He seemed to think she had made a particularly funny joke.

But before she could move from shock into anger, Blaise Zabini was there stepping in, making his excuses to Thomas and swooping Hermione away. He steered her firmly away from Thomas.

"Well good evening Ms. Granger."

"Zabini" she acknowledged, still half dazed.

"Oh, no. You get to call me Blaise. Don't you know we are friends? Besides. I was sent to retrieve you so let us just smile and inconspicuously dance towards those white roses over there."

"What?"
"Just smile for the cameras, my dear. It will all be over soon."

She strongly suspected who was behind this so she followed along and as everyone was looking the other way Blaise cast a disillusionment charm and grabbed her hand. They quickly walked around the rose bushes, up a garden path, into the manor through a side entrance, up two flights of stairs and arrived into a round room in one of the towers, full of comfortable chairs by a roaring fire.

Cheers erupted as Blaise lifted the disillusionment and took a bow as Hermione realised she was among snakes. Theo and Draco were sitting like two kings on their thrones by the fire and there was also Gregory and Millicent sitting close together and Pansy, who seemed mostly to be sulking and drinking.

Draco raised his glass "To a mission successfully accomplished. Good work Blaise."

Hermione stepped carefully into the room, almost getting the urge to reach for her wand. But that was ridiculous. She shouldn't feel this uncomfortable just because she was surrounded by former Slytherins.

"One lady in distress successfully retrieved from the dragon's clutches and brought safely back to the castle." And Blaise gave another bow for good measure.

"Sit down Granger. We are not going to bite." and Theo pointed at an empty sofa besides her.

Hermione carefully sat down on a couch near the door and asked "Why am I here?"

"Intelligence informed us of an explosive situation and we decided to intervene before the inevitable kaboom," Theo answered, making a hand gesture.

"Do you guys have any idea how creepy this all looks? The snakes plotting in a back room as the rest of the world dances and enjoys the party below."

"Oh, we do our best to live up to our reputation."

At this point Draco stood up and waved his wand at a side table where a bottle tilted to fill a glass which then floated towards him. He walked over to Hermione offering her the drink and then sat down on the sofa next to her. Blaise immediately took his chair by the fire preventing any hope of him returning there. "Calm down, Granger. Crisis averted. You have networked enough for one evening. Have a drink and enjoy yourself."

For a while she just stayed quiet listening to the friends banter among themselves. There was talk of quidditch but somewhere on her second glass of firewhiskey the talk turned back to politics.

"So Rowena's autobiography is out as of this morning. Did anyone pick it up yet?"

Four hands shot into the air. Neither Blaise or Hermione's were among them.

"Man, I knew she would be first out." exclaimed Blaise hitting the armrest with his hand. "I am only about two thirds done with mine."

"How is your autobiography coming along, Granger?" asked Theo from his throne like chair.

"I haven't started one, actually."

"Oh, please let me write it for you," Blaise exclaimed, making several smirks appear across the room. "My version of your life would be a blast to read."

Hermione was not used to this version of Blaise. In all honesty she thought he was more quiet and shy. I guess this was the Blaise his friends got to see. Did that mean she was friends with these guys now? How did that happen?

"Em, I was thinking of maybe doing something a bit different. It seems like everyone is expecting autobiographies from the candidates."
"Like what?" came from Draco as he focused on her.

"Maybe a series of articles explaining my view on various issues. So people know where I stand. It seems more sensible than a book detailing my dating history and where I buy my shoes."

"Interesting. This could work." Draco leaned back with a thoughtful expression. "What would you call it?"

"Reflections." She answered honestly. "It makes for a good series. Reflections on early child development, reflections on healthcare, reflections on the justice system, reflections on muggle relations, reflections on the magical financial system etc. etc."

"I like the basic thought, but I am vetoing those article titles. You are going to have to dumb it down a bit for the public. If you get too intense you will scare people away."

Hermione raised one eyebrow at Draco. "So reflections on puppies and butterflies instead?"

"Something along those lines, yes."

At that point Blaise chimed in with his opinion. "Well I think it's a brilliant move. Can I scrap the autobiography and start writing articles instead? Please, Theo?"
"No, you will stick to your autobiography, Blaise. It's the classic move. Can't go wrong with the classics." Theo said, looking all the more as if he was a king on a throne.

"You are no fun. I want to switch to team Draco."

"Team Draco?" Hermione chimed in.

"Yes, Hermione." Blaise turned in his chair to face her. "Has Draco not explained the rules of the game to you? Theo and Draco here have a bet that they can get their chosen champion all the way to the Minister seat. You and I happen to be their chosen champions. Which effectively makes them the puppet masters and we are the puppets:" Blaise made finger movements as if he was making little invisible puppets dance for him.

"I see." Hermione slowly answered and meet Draco's eyes. There was a smirk on his face but his eyes seemed slightly worried about how she was taking the news of the bet. He relaxed when she just took a sip of her drink instead of, for example, exploding and storming out.

"And here I thought I was the one running for office all on my own. So what happens once we reach the office? Will the puppet-play continue?"

"Oh, they have no interest in what we do once we reach the top. For them it's just the challenge of getting us there. When we all wake up on september 23rd Theo will be in possession of Dracos Lamborghini or Draco will have the keys to Theo's Ferrari."

"And if neither one of us even reaches round two?"

"Then we will all party until dawn and drown our sorrows in firewhiskey."

"So for them it is all about expensive muggle cars?"

"What can I say. Bored billionaires are the worst, aren't they.."

"And what will you do if you reach the top office?"

"Become the coolest Minister of Magic the world has ever seen. It will be awesome. Maybe I should take you on as my secretary. Or my strategic advisor. You are smart enough to keep those two in check for me" and he pointed towards Theo and Draco. "And I may have to cut back on the parties and drinking a bit."

"Good thing you aren't Minister of Magic tonight then."

"Hear, hear."

Draco had stayed quiet during the exchange but raised his glass at this and joined the cheers. He then got up to fill both his and Hermione's glasses. While he was away she felt her fred jump in her pocket.

[Draco:] Don't be mad. I really can help you, and winning this bet with Theo is just icing on the cake.

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Saturday, 4 august 2012

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[Hermione:] You seriously sent dressmakers to my house? What is wrong with you?

[Draco:] And good morning to you too.

[Hermione:] You didn't like my dress yesterday?

[Draco:] Calm down. We talked about this already. You need a bigger wardrobe. Public figure and all.

[Hermione:] I was sleeping. I need sleep, Malfoy.

[Draco:] I told them not to bother you before 10.

[Hermione:] Which doesn't help when I was drinking with snakes until 3:30. I have a headache.

[Draco:] There are potions for that.

[Hermione:] Not the point.

[Draco:] Did they bring anything suitable?

[Hermione:] Yes, Malfoy. I have 25 new dress robes, 30 sets of every day wear plus accessories.

[Draco:] Excellent.

[Hermione:] Basically I couldn't be bothered so I told them to leave everything and charge it to your account.

[Draco:] Fine with me.

[Hermione:] Godric's goats, Malfoy. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.

[Draco:] Godric's goats? Since when is that something you say? How much were you drinking yesterday?

[Hermione:] Is this going to be one of those things you blackmail me with later when you want something?

[Draco:] I wouldn't dream of it

[Hermione:] You better not! This was all your fault!

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Sunday, 5 August 2012

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Sunday brunch at the Burrow was always a chaotic affair. This time it was extra chaotic because everyone had made an effort to be there. Molly and Arthur's 40th wedding anniversary was almost upon them and they were going away on a 3 week muggle cruise to celebrate. This would be their last sunday brunch for a few weeks. Only Percy and his family were not there, but they had promised to have dinner at the Burrow instead.

The rest of the family was there, plus her, Neville, Hagrid and Andromeda. All in all that made eleven Weasley, five Potters, three Longbottoms, two Tonks', a Granger and a Hagrid. Eating inside had never been considered. Eating inside was very seldom considered these days. When the Weasley children started having families of their own it had been decided that they needed a grand dining area so a 90 square meter greenhouse had been constructed. It was tall enough to fit Hagrid comfortably and the stone table was extendable and could seat up to 35 people. It was late enough in the season now that the grapes and oranges were almost ready. It was beautiful in a cosy way that just fitted at the Burrow.

"So how is the campaign going?"

It was George who posed the question while serving some potatoes to little Albus, who was sitting beside him. But Hermione could tell there were others around the table interested in hearing what she had been doing this week.

"It is exhausting. My hand is bruised and battered after all the handshaking this week. I don't know how I will make it through 6 more weeks of this. I suspect my presence will be required at every single social function from here on. Campaigning in the magical world seems to be a lot more personal than it is in the Muggle world."

"You follow Muggle politics?" came predictably from Arthur.

"Not as much as I probably should. But I took those courses at Uni and I make a point to vote. At least in the general elections and the ones for the European Parliament."

"You seemed to be campaigning like a pro on Friday" Bill chimed in, winking at Hermione. "I doubt anyone noticed how much you wanted to be anywhere but there."

"What was on Friday?" came from Neville.

"Gala dinner at the Greengrass manor. Didn't you see the papers yesterday?"

"I saw Hermione dance with the honourable Thomas Bulstrode." Bill whispered loudly to George across the table, making sure that everyone could hear him.

"Hermione!" came disapprovingly from Molly. "Why on Earth are you dancing with the competition?"

"Just trying to get him to vote for me" she answered jokingly and got a few chuckles for her efforts.

"Why wasn't I invited to that? I don't think Daphne likes me anymore." came from George.

"Perhaps it is her brand new husband who doesn't like you" responded Ron.

"You may have a point there, little brother."

"Well, I for one hope you win. It would be nice to see the position remain within the Order."

At that comment it was inevitable that the talk turned to Kingsley Shacklebolt. His death had been sudden and it still wasn't quite real to them. Molly and Arthur had taken it especially hard. They had been friends with Kingsley for a long time. In their minds anyone that survived the war, like Kingsley had, should live to see old age.

Kingsley had been visiting the French minister of magic when the tragedy occurred. Kingsley had had his wand out when he slipped and fell. His security detail had immediately helped him up and he had not seemed injured at all. But no one had thought to check if his wand was damaged. He had continued with schedule as planned and it wasn't until that night that he drew his wand for a simple incantation. The backfire from the damaged wand had taken his life instantly.

Harry had lead the investigation himself. Nothing had pointed to any foul play. The French minister had been devastated and the French equivalent of the Auror department had given their full cooperation. It was ruled an accident and a funeral had been planned.

But even before then people had started to speculate about who would be his successor. In the end it was the 105 year old head of the Wizengamot, the honourable Mr. Andreas Macmillan, who got appointed as Acting Minister of Magic. Since Andreas Macmillan wanted nothing to do with the honour, he immediately announced that this time proper democratic elections would be held so every witch and wizard of age could have a say in the matter of who would become the next Minister for Magic.

"Are you doing all of this by yourself, Hermione dear?" Molly called across the table while trying to get some of the grandkids to eat something and directing her two house elves on where to put things. "You should get some help. Maybe Fleur can help you. She is always so good at these sort of things."

Fleur just rolled her eyes at that, but said gracefully nonetheless. "If you need help then I am, of course, happy to help."

It was obvious that Fleur was not overly excited at the idea of working hard for Hermione's campaign.

"Thank you Fleur, but I am managing quite well and I have some help. But you could let me know if there is something going on somewhere that I should know about."

Ginny, who was always too observant for her own good narrowed her eyes but before she could formulate the obvious question there was a commotion at the table and little Lilly screamed as little Alice looked perfectly innocent beside her.

When things settled again the talk went towards the upcoming cruise. Molly and Arthur were leaving the following day and not coming back until the end of the month. It was a muggle cruise so Charlie's wife Helena, who was half-blood, had been helping them get muggle suitcases and making sure they knew what to expect. They had even been practising with cell phones because they would not be able to use their freds in front of muggles. The cruise would take them from Barcelona to Mallorca, then to Sicily, onwards to several Greek islands and then stopping in Rome, Florence and Marseille before returning to Barcelona. Harry, who was in charge of international affairs at the Auror office had had a quiet word with some colleagues in Italy, Greece and France. He was fully prepared for the more than likely probability that half the muggles on the cruise ship would have to have their memories modified.

Hagrid, Andromeda and Teddy went home after dinner but the rest stayed for the customary quidditch game. As with the brunch, the quidditch game had evolved as the family grew. There were now two quidditch pitches. The smaller one was for the youngest crowd racing about on their toy brooms. Anyone already attending Hogwarts was allowed to join the big game. And anyone still digesting the feast could sit on the couches by the smaller pitch. From there you could also see the big pitch. Molly and Arthur always cosied up on one of these to watch the family and take care of any crisis that came up among the grandchildren.

Hermione was surprised when she found herself joined by none other than Ginny Weasley, notorious quidditch enthusiast on one of the other couches.

"You are not playing today?"

"Apparently not" she said with a sigh and not able to hide her looking long towards the pitch. Then she quickly turned to Hermione and fixed her with a stare.

"You have secrets and I am determined to make you fess up."

Hermione just smiled at her best friend, knowing there was no getting out of this after her comment at dinner.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything you are not telling me."

"Oh, you know me. Woman of mystique and secret identities and secrecy and whatever else you are imagining. You, my dear, are going to have to be more specific about what you are after."

"OK, how about this: Who is helping you with your campaign?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Come on Hermione. I am in a crappy mood already and I need something to cheer me up."

"What has got you down?"

"Let's start with the fact that Harry is leaving on Tuesday and my favourite babysitter is going to be absent for 3 weeks leaving me with a house full of kids." and she gave a loud sigh at the thought. "You have to try to come over and give me some sympathy every now and then. And bring chocolate."
"Want some house elves too?"
"Yes, please. Do you think yours will accept it?"
"Not permanently but I am sure I can convince them when it is just for 3 weeks. At least Miffy would. And if she does then Crux will go with her to keep an eye on her. Toad is still jumpy and I need Spike at home to look after her."

"Miffy and Crux would make a huge difference if they are willing to come. If not then maybe I could ask mum to send hers to me, although I think Fleur already asked. But; No more distractions though. Who is helping you?"

Hermione laid back and watched the game; "Would you believe me if I said house elfs?"
Ginnie mirrored her movement and answered; "No"

"Would you believe me if I said I was being helped by some fine young gentlemen who are willing to lend me all the political cunning they learned from being in the noble house of Slytherin ?"

"Slytherin gentlemen you say. That seems like a rather unlikely combination."

"You are probably right Not really a believable story."

They clapped politely when Harry, who was playing chaiser today managed to score a goal against Ron, who was keeper as always.

"Would you believe me if I told you that my goals currently aligned with some cunning and conniving snakes that are so rich and bored that they find entertainment in playing the noble game of politics?"
"I think we are getting closer to the truth. Who?"

"Malfoy."

"You are not serious Hermione? What on Earth?"

"Keep your voice down, Ginny."

"What have you gotten yourself into?"

"I am not sure. He claims it is just a happy coincidence that he is willing to help. He has a bet with Nott about the election. Nott is trying to get the minister position for Zabini and I, apparently, am Draco's chosen champion for this game of theirs."

"You trust that?"

"I am keeping a healthy scepticism. But he has proven himself somewhat useful so far."

"If anyone finds out that Malfoy is involved then you are in a world of trouble."

"He seems to share that view of the situation. Fully aware of people's low opinion of himself."

"And what is your opinion of him, Hermione?"
"Well this is the first time in over a decade I have talked to the guy so I am giving him the benefit of the doubt."
"You need to be careful."

"I am. But if I am serious about this whole ruling-the-world venture of mine then I am going to have to deal with all sorts of people. I am going to have to get out of my comfy little bubble and play some politics. Learn to be four steps ahead of the game at all times. Ignoring the likes of Malfoy may just come back to bite me in my arse. Maybe I can be the one to play the snakes this time around."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, uh?"

"Precisely."

The game ended an hour later when James caught the snitch as it was hovering above Molly and Arthur, nearly giving his grandparents a heart attack. The final score was 270 to 140. Not that anyone cared.

- # - # - # - # - # - # - # - # - # -

[Hermione:] Fleur invited me along to her book club on Thursday. What do you think?

[Draco:] Maybe. Who will be there and what book will they be discussing?

[Hermione:] Some of the Gringotts wives I presume, and Evan Fawley's autobiography.

[Draco:] That is brilliant. Yes, you should definitely go and stop them drooling over Evan.

[Hermione:] True. Have you read it?

[Draco:] Of course. Haven't you?

[Hermione:] I wasn't sure I should be seen buying the autobiographies.

[Draco:] Sh*t, I should have thought of that. I will owl you my copy. Just ignore the margin scribbles.

[Hermione:] You write on the margins? That is horrible Malfoy.

[Draco:] How else will future historians know how brilliant I am?

[Hermione:] Not a good enough reason. Books are sacred.

[Draco:] Do you want my copy tonight or to you want me to send you a clean copy tomorrow?

[Hermione:] Owl it to me. But I disapprove of your scribblings Malfoy.

[Draco:] You haven't even read them yet. I can tell you that my scribblings are better than the book.

[Hermione:] Is it that bad?

[Draco:] Personal opinion. You will have to read it and tell me what you think.

[Hermione:] Ok.