CHAPTER THREE

Frodo: I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.
Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.
~J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring~

The next morning, she and her mum had breakfast together. "Camping?" Hermione asked, over a bowl of cereal. They hadn't been camping since she was fourteen for one reason: it hadn't gone well. They all agreed that would be the end of camping. The Grangers were not campers. All three of them had admitted that and made peace with it. They had buried it in the ground with gravestones. She didn't know why her mum was back on the camping bandwagon. "Have you convinced dad?"

Her mum rolled her eyes, sipping her tea. "Your father has no say. In anything."

Hermione sighed. "Why do you want to go camping again? You said yourself, there was no electricity, you couldn't dry your hair, there was no place to shower besides a creek, and we could hear bears at night."

"We did not hear bears." Her mum laughed, pouring some more milk into her mug. "Stop being dramatic, dear."

"There were bears!" Hermione protested. "I don't want to go back out there. I'm an adult, you can't make me."

"Sweetheart, I can make you do anything while you live under this roof. Now, you're growing up, and you're starting to get your own life together. I just want us to still be together and do stuff as a family."

"Mum," She said, glancing at the clock to see how much longer she had, "Of course we'll keep doing stuff together. I love being with you guys. But can't we go see a show at the West End? Or a museum... or... we'll all go to dad's dentist conference! But please, no camping."

"Hermione, we're going camping. So buy some mosquito repellent." her mum said sternly, standing up and going to the sink.

Hermione muttered bitterly, "There's a spell for that."

"Good," her mum said merrily, "then I trust you'll practice it in time for the trip. Now, what was that letter from the Ministry about?"

Hermione closed her eyes briefly. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night thinking about the letter and reality tv and prejudice and if she was going to do it. She wanted to owl Ron and see if he had gotten a letter since the Weasleys were a pure-blood family, but she'd been too mad at him to do it.

"The Ministry is..." She trailed off, trying to find the easiest way to get it out, "doing a reality tv show, trying to bring muggle borns and pure-bloods together. And they want me to be a cast member,"

She wasn't sure how her mum was going to react. She didn't even know if she wanted her mum to be outraged or excited. She watched her mum carefully and saw some sort of glint in her mum's eye. "Are you going to do it?"

"I- I don't know. Wait a second, don't you watch that one about the family in California with all the sisters and..."

"No, no," her mum said with a wave of her wand. "They're crazy, but that one about the girl in Alaska is good."

"What one-"

Her mum cut her off, almost like she was annoyed her daughter didn't know which reality tv shows she liked, "The one whose mum ran for the vice president in the states."

"She has a reality tv show? Can anyone have a real- wait. You like this stuff?" Her mind was an absolute mess, she decided. She couldn't keep anything straight anymore. "So you want me to do the show?"

"I did not say that," her mum began, defensively, "those shows are probably scripted and they edit shots like crazy to make you look unstable. It's completely up to you. There would be cameras everywhere. They'd follow you on dates, lunch at the Burrow, your job..."

"I'm supposed to be paired up with a pure-blood family and spend time with them and stuff like that..." She trailed off, "I don't really want to hang out with pure-bloods..."

"Hun, it's getting late. We can keep talking about this when you get back, but for now you go to work and keep thinking about it."

Her mum was right, and Hermione left. When she got to Flourish and Blotts, she was relieved to find the air conditioner on. It seemed Joy had decided to turn it on since Molly whats-her-face would be signing copies of her cookbook in the store that afternoon.

During her lunch break she went over to talk to George with the intention of asking him about the letter she had gotten. She had been walking outside for two minutes and already her body was burning up from the harsh sun. She was envious of all the people around her in shorts.

However, as she got closer to the store, she noticed a line out the door, stretching down the alley. Confused, she picked up her pace and saw snow falling through the window. The laugh came slipping out before she realised it- the ingenuity of George Weasley. It was a sight to see. She remembered when Fred died, everyone had been so concerned about George and how he'd pull through. He had jumped right into work and no one saw him for days. But now he was better, he had started getting better when he started going out with Angelina months ago.

It had been bizarre at first, but everyone had gotten used to it once they saw George smiling again. Hermione hadn't been able to judge them for it when she figured both of them probably felt guilty about it themselves. As long as George was happy, that was all she wanted. And that was all the Weasleys wanted.

Even if they were pure-bloods. Hermione sighed, the idea that she, herself, was prejudiced rattled her to the bone. She had spent her whole life priding herself on being a free thinker and there she was blaming all pure-bloods for the problems in the world.

"Back of the line!" Someone shouted at her as she approached the store. She glanced at the line- she couldn't even see the end of it- and then back at Jack who it seemed George had sent to man the line.

Jack smiled at her when he saw her. "Go right in, Hermione," He smiled at her, "George said you might come by anyway. How is work?"

"It's great, there's a book signing, so it's kinda packed." She looked back at the store window and the tiny snowflakes, "So, looks like you guys are making good business,"

Jack laughed, "That George, he's very smart. Go on, you'll see, it's freezing in there."

She waved goodbye and then went inside. The cold air hit her in a nanosecond. It stopped her dead in her tracks and she wrapped her arms around her middle, in hopes of keeping herself together. The snow was all around her, and there were snow mounds scattered throughout the store. She could see her breath and worried she would get frostbite. It felt like Antarctica and wished she had a herd of emperor penguins to snuggle up with.

She took small steps forward and saw everyone else was moving slow, too. Ron wasn't over by the cashiers and she wondered if he had avoided working so he wouldn't have to see her. She was avoiding him too- it was why she was seeking out George and not him. George found her looking at an aisle of Multi-color Exploding Erasers.

"Hey there, 'Mione," He grinned. She laughed when she saw him. He was wearing one of those hats with the ear flaps and a giant winter coat.

"You came prepared," She said, "this is amazing. It's freezing!"

"Beats the AC, huh? Yeah, I thought it was cool." George said, his nose turning red. "Of course... it is a bit too cold... but who cares? No one seems to be complaining. How bad is it outside?"

"The weather or that line!" Hermione laughed.

George grinned, "Is the line that bad?"

She nodded, "I can't even see the end of it, and that sun is hot. You're gonna have a very good day with this idea,"

"Tell mum to come by when you see her. She's gonna be at that fruity lady's book signing,"

"I will, hey, um... I needed to ask you-"

"And what did you do to my baby brother last night?" George broke in, crossing his arms and looking down at her like she had done something wrong.

"ME?" She barked, mirroring George's arms. "I didn't do anything. Ronald-"

"He took you to Paris!" George said, "I know he's not the most attractive bloke, that honour goes to me, but he did take you to Paris,"

"I could Apparate to America right now. Or Africa. It's not that hard when you have magic." She pointed out, "So fine, he Apparated me to Paris. He didn't take me to Paris. 'Take' implies brining someone and showing them around,"

George shook his head with a laugh, "So you're mad because he just took you to eat?"

"In Paris! What was so bad with eating here if we weren't going to do anything else?"

"Because it's Paris- the mood and such- whatever. You can work it out with him. But you are the reason I don't have an extra hand in this madness." George didn't seem mad at her, just very amused. It was obvious he thought their fight was ludicrous.

"If Ronald wants to be a right, immature, prat about it than that is his prerogative. The grown-ups still had to get up and go to work today," She miffed, determinedly staring at a box of exploding erasers. She looked down at the floor and cleared her throat before asking George about the letter.

"You got a letter from the Ministry?" He asked, his nose crinkling the way all Weasley noses do when they are confused about something. "What for?"

"So you didn't get something about a reality tv show focusing on pure-bloods and muggle born witches and wizards?" She questioned, bitting her lip.

"I don't know anything about it. Mum might have gotten the owl. Ask her at the signing. But really? That's... I don't know."

"It's weird, right?" Hermione went on, seeing George was speechless. "I can't... ugh,"

"Wait- and they want you to do it?" George asked, catching on. His mouth dropped, "You on a reality tv show?"

"I know!" She shivered, "I can't even fathom- it's just so different from anything I've ever done or thought I wanted to do. And spending time with pure-bloods and teaching them about muggles... I'm sure none of them even want to learn! Does it make sense to even consider this?"

George shrugged. "It's a challenging idea. That Wilson Betemit sure is trying to get work done."

With George being no help, Hermione left the shop (regretfully since the second she was back outside she thought she was going to pass out from heat stroke). Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour had a line out the door. Hermione stopped off at a cafe with a purple umbrella to pick up a panini to eat on her way back.

The shop was starting to fill up with excited patrons. Hermione hadn't realised Molly Tankers had fans. She looked for Mrs. Weasley's beacon of red hair, but didn't spot her. She must not have arrived yet. In the mean time, she busied herself working crowd control and trying to get everyone seated by the stage so things went smoothly. Joy needed help bringing the refreshments out, so Hermione and a fellow co-worker brought out the platters of finger sandwiches and crackers.

"Hermione," Joy said, pulling her aside, "Make sure there's a bottle of water on the podium and ample pens for signing."

She did, and by the time she got back, she spotted Mrs. Weasley in the fourth row talking to the witch next to her. They both had copies of the book in their laps and seemed like they were enjoying their conversation. Mrs. Weasley looked up, like she could feel Hermione watching her, and waved happily. She waved back, but then there was a woman next to her asking where the loo was.

Mrs. Weasley found her a bit later and greeted her with a hug. "Working girl," She grinned, "Is it going well?"

"Sure, sure. It's great."

"What in Merlin's beard did my son do? I saw a line around the alley!" Mrs. Weasley asked, waving her arms for effect.

Hermione laughed, "It's snowing. You have got to go see it after the signing- it's incredible."

"That boy, always new ideas," She beamed, proud. Hermione laughed, remembering the days she was so against her twin boys becoming pranksters for a living. Now she couldn't have been more proud of them even if she tried.

"I was wondering if you had gotten a letter from the Ministry-"

"About the tv show," Mrs. Weasley cut her off, "Yes, yes. You got one too?"

"Yeah... um, I was wondering what you thought about it..." Hermione rocked on her foot, twisting her fingers in her hand. She braced herself for whatever Mrs. Weasley was going to say, unsure, like this morning, what she wanted to hear.

"I think it's an interesting idea," Mrs. Weasley began, "I haven't talked to everyone about doing it, but I would like to. I think we have a chance to be role models and we should take it. It seems the Ministry is trying and we should all do our part to help out. And if the show fails, then we tried and we'll all move on."

"So you're considering doing it..." Hermione said, "I'm so confused,"

"I'm sure you are. I know all those shows don't portray women in the most flattering way, but Hermione you are classy and intelligent and this is your chance to show a strong woman for millions of little girls to watch and hopefully, aspire to." Mrs. Weasley praised, rubbing her shoulder. "Think about it,"

Harry agreed to meet her for dinner. He ran his hand through his hair as soon as he entered the cafe, spotting her instantly. He beamed at her and waved, walking over. She smiled back, standing up to hug him when he was close enough.

"Ron's mad at you," Harry greeted her with, sitting down.

She laughed, remembering her conversation with George from earlier. It looked like Ron had told everyone. If he worked for the Prophet the whole wizarding world would know about their row tomorrow morning on the front cover. "So I've heard," She deadpanned, picking up her menu.

After they ordered, they made small talk. Harry told her about how he was starting to go the gym to bulk up for auror training. Then there was the story about Pig, Ron's tiny owl, pooping in their shower. "Oh, and," He rubbed the back of his neck, "Ginny wants to go out on a double date. I know she's at Hogwarts at that summer program, but she just wanted me to tell you,"

Hermione shook her head and smiled. Their food came and they started eating. They each swapped a piece of their food to try the other's and then Hermione worked up the nerve to ask Harry about what she really wanted to. She played with the pasta on her plate, pushing bits and piece aside, while occasionally eating some.

Harry noticed. Because he was Harry flippin' Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, and her best friend. He put down his sandwich and studied her. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had been looked at so intensely and reached for her soda. Maybe the carbonated beverage would help. She looked up at Harry and knew he wasn't going to ask her what was bothering her. His look was him asking and she would answer if she wanted too. And she did, that was the whole point of tonight, but she didn't know what to say.

So she started with explaining about the letter. Harry stayed silent through her story, giving her the chance to get it all out there. She knew it was a big deal for him, since he usually had outbursts where he'd just say whatever he wanted to, but she figured it was all part of his pre-auror training. He was growing up. The notion made her a little melancholy while she told the story, but she tried to push it away and not be such a nostalgia hippie since they were all getting older and changing. In the case of Ron, it seemed his maturity level hadn't skyrocketed, but she'd deal with her boyfriend later.

Finally, Harry said, "Every time I think the Ministry can't get any dumber, they do something like this."

"So you think it's a bad idea." She gathered, playing with her food again. She was a little embarrassed to have had to admit she was thinking about taking it and that's why it was bothering her so much. Especially now that she had Harry telling her it was stupid.

"Of course I-" He paused, looking around at the customers that had turned to glance at them. He cleared his throat and then lowered his voice as he went on, "I think it's bad idea. Hermione, the Ministry is just gonna hurt you through this. They're gonna twist everything you say and make you look crazy,"

"No, I mean- the point of this thing is supposed to help change the prejudice that exists." She said, but it sounded faulty even to her own ears. She sighed, wishing she had never gotten the stupid letter in the first place.

Harry looked at her and said firmly, "Please don't do it, 'Mione,"

She couldn't help it. Everything in her body was singing at her to do it and she had no idea why. Maybe because Harry seemed to convinced it would fail. Maybe because Mrs. Weasley wanted to do it and Mrs. Weasley was one of the smartest, loving persons Hermione knew. Maybe because the show would get her out of camping with her parents if she had to film that day.

She couldn't say no.

A/N: Hello readers. Thanks so much for going till this point and to everyone that reviewed last time. As always, reviews are appreciated. I'm getting a bunch more alerts and stuff, but if you could find a few minutes to spare and review it would mean loads.