CHAPTER FOUR
'Well' Francie decided, 'I guess the thing that is giving me this headache is life - and nothing else but.'
~Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn~
It was time to fix things with Ron. As she watched the owl she had paid for at Diagon Alley's Owl Post soar off with her response to the Ministry letter, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders- for now anyway. She was going to cherish the last few days of privacy she'd have and spend it with her boyfriend, best friend, and family. But she had to fix the itty bitty problem with her boyfriend first.
After work, she Apparated over to Harry and Ron's place. She had checked in at the shop during her lunch break, but Ron wasn't there. George had spotted her wandering around the shop and told her. Now, standing outside the flat she'd only been to twice, she took a breath and then rang the doorbell.
"Yeah?" Harry's voice came through all scratchy.
"Hey, it's me, 'Mione. Buzz me up," She grinned. It was no shocker Harry could operate a doorbell, but Hermione wondered if Ron had learned yet.
They lived in a walkup and the halls were tiny, smelling distinctly of piss. It was like one of those bad movies with twenty somethings just starting out. She didn't remember this place looking so rundown the last time she'd come. But maybe they were all still too high on the prospects of graduation, new lives, freedom- that they hadn't noticed the shitty place they were getting.
Harry was waiting for her with his head poking out of the door. He opened it wide enough when she was closer. He slammed the door shut behind them so hard that a picture frame of the three of them shook. Hermione looked at him with a questioning glance and he explained, "We don't want to let the stench in."
She smiled, "There is a spell for that,"
"Not all of us are 'The Brightest Witch of Our Age,'" Ron's voice chimed in. She turned around, facing his glare. She rolled her eyes and muttered the spell, determined to be the bigger person. Here she was coming to try and make peace and Ron still wanted to be mad at her. There was no time to be angry, life was too short.
Harry sniffed. "Thanks, 'Mione. You're a lifesaver." She looked back at her friend and smiled brightly at him. "You want some tea?" He asked, going over to the stove and pouring steaming water from the kettle into two mugs.
"Sure," She said and Harry retrieved a third mug with a simple summoning spell. Hermione turned to her boyfriend, trusting Harry knew how she took her tea, and said, "Can we talk?"
He shrugged and walked away. She shut her eyes tightly in an effort to stay calm, before following him. The boys lived in a tiny flat. Right next to the front door was the kitchen and on the other side was a small living space. The bathroom was off to a corner, while there was one room that the boys had divided in half with a shower curtain to give them a side of the same room.
Hermione followed Ron to his "room" and cringed as she saw the mess. There were clothes strewn all over the place and some dirty dishes. She looked away and over at Harry's side, pleased to see it was slightly less dirty. There were no dishes, so that was nice. She sat down on the unmade bed gingerly and looked at Ron.
"I don't want to fight," She told him, hoping he'd listen to her. She watched him anxiously, studying his face for the slightest reactions. She saw his lips turn in on themselves, then he blinked a few times, before finally a small grin settled on his face. She felt herself release a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.
"Okay, I forgive you,"
"Ron, I- wait. What? You forgive me?" She said, puzzled, staring at him in shock. She stood up from the bed slowly, crossing her arms.
"Yeah, I forgive you, 'Mione." He said, like he didn't notice her seething anger rising to the surface.
"I never apologised, Ronald. I didn't DO anything wrong," She practically lost it, but fought to hold onto some control. She was going to be the bigger person, she was determined to be the bigger person. She was more mature, smarter and Ron was just a stupid, little boy. She had to tell herself these things so she could keep from yelling and she hadn't come over to yell.
Ron looked at her like she was the one with a mental block. "Look, 'Mione, you don't need to be embarrassed. I already accepted your apology. Lets just-"
"Ronald," She began, slowly, "think very, very carefully about what you want to say right now."
It seemed to click then. He took a step away from her and held his hands up. "Okay, um... 'Mione... I... I should have planned that date better. I should never just have whisked you off to Paris without the opportunity to see anything. I'm sorry."
She took a deep breath, relieved he wasn't as dumb as he looked. She smiled at him and walked over for a hug. Their bodies fit together and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him.
"You also didn't need to go blabbing to everyone like a little girl," She muttered in his ear and his body vibrated with his chuckle. His lips touched her forehead and she stayed there for awhile, just standing in his arms with his lips on her.
"Yeah, yeah," He muttered, pulling away from her. He planted a soft kiss on her lips and said, "Lets go back outside. Harry's probably worried you've killed me."
"I was considering it," She bumped her hip against him, taking his hand and leading him out of the room. She paused as he shut the door and turning back to him she said, "But please clean your room before I come over,"
"Yes, mum," He said with a roll of his eyes.
Harry was sitting on the couch with three steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table. He perked up when he saw them and sighed in relief. "Harry," Hermione said, taking a seat next to him, "how on earth do you share a room with him? It's disgusting."
Harry chuckled, "Been sharing my living space with him for years. Force of habit."
"Yeah, all right, Pick on Ron Day is now over." Ron said, dropping onto the beanbag by the window. Some of his tea sloshed out onto his shirt and Harry snorted while Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You make it too easy, mate," Harry grinned.
"You're the one that wanted this stupid beanbag thing." Ron muttered, rubbing his hand down his shirt like that would make the small black dots go away. Hermione was about to utter a spell when Ron haphazardly pulled his wand out of his pocket and said, "Scourgify,"
"I also wanted to move into his rubbish flat. Doesn't mean you had to go along with it," Harry mentioned, sipping his tea.
Ron rolled his eyes and looked out the window. Hermione tried to get comfy on the springy couch. She squirmed around, but nothing helped. She looked over at Harry who was grinning sheepishly and sighed. It would have been nice if he splurged on something. She knew he wanted them all to have a typical just out of school experience, complete with less than appealing accommodations, but this was kind of sad.
But she was still living at home with her parents, so she didn't really have the moral high ground to say anything.
She wasn't staying home just because she didn't have the money. It was a combination of that and just getting her parents back. At the height of the war she had taken their memories of her and their life together. Her parents moved to Australia and she had gone off to war with a chance of never coming back. As soon as the war ended, she Apparated to Australia and found her parents. They had spent the summer together before she went back to school for her final year. She had come back home for Christmas and New Years and hadn't seen them until graduation. She wasn't quite ready to leave when it felt like she had just gotten them back.
She'd let Harry have his rubbish piss smelling flat and uncomfortable furniture. After everything they all went through, he deserved to get whatever he wanted and if this was it, so be it. Eventually he'd become an auror and make his own money and he'd feel comfortable enough to do what he pleased with it.
It was time to tell them she had come to a decision about the show. She didn't even know if Mrs. Weasley had told Ron about the offer.
"So, um," She started, "Ron... did you hear about this new show the Ministry wants to do?"
Ron stiffened. He looked over at her, his lips drawn in a tight line. He nodded, "Mum wants to do it."
Harry glanced between them, "So you're doing it together?"
"'Mione got an offer?" Ron gasped, sitting up.
Hermione glared at him, "Why wouldn't I get a letter? I am a muggle born. I fought in the war-"
"No," Ron shook his head, "That's not what I mean. I just- Merlin."
"Well," She cut him off, "I want to do it." She paused, looking at both of them. Harry sipped his tea and Ron looked less than thrilled. She wasn't sure what to do in the silence so she awkwardly added, "I'm just telling you."
Harry took it upon himself to break the silence, "So are you nervous?"
Before she could say anything, Ron sprang up and looked at his girlfriend. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard! What do you mean you want to do it? Why? What in Merlin's pants would make you want to do this? It's going to be awful! A bunch of stuffy, nutters being forced to make nice with muggle borns. It's going to be a disaster!"
Hermione glared at him, "The Ministry is trying. So we should do our part, too. And," She started, standing up as well, "you're a pure-blood too! Maybe there are others like you out there!"
"Where were they during the war? Huh? Where were they, Hermione? Merlin, you're always so optimistic and idealistic. Well, it doesn't always work out, okay? In the real world, you can't just change something like this with a bloody reality telly special!"
"How can we, when people like you don't want to try? It won't be easy and it won't be fun, but we need to try and take every option we're given! If I can even influence one person, young, old, pure-blood, halfblood- I don't care! If I help someone, that will be worth it." Hermione's chest was rapidly falling up and down as she stood on her tiptoes.
After the bridge she and Ron had crossed moments ago, they were back to fighting. How could he be so closed minded? Harry didn't like the idea either, but he wasn't yelling at her for wanting to do it. She waited for him to shout back, but he didn't. He slammed his tea down and marched out of the flat. The door rattled behind him and Hermione fell back down onto the couch.
"It feels like we just fight all the time," She whispered, after a few moments of silence. Harry passed her his tea and she took the mug from him gratefully.
"It's just a phase..." Harry said, and she wondered where he had found that line from. "I mean, you're both getting used to this new thing and you both believe very strongly in... whatever you believe in." He added after a moment's thought, "And you two have always been fighting."
She cracked a smile, remembering all their fights at Hogwarts over the years. It was true. They had never really had the smoothest relationship. She had just thought it would be different now that they were older and dating. They'd had a wonderful last year at Hogwarts. It was almost like a dream. Maybe it was just all the stress of their new lives and getting settled into the roles they wanted.
"How are you and Ginny?" Hermione asked, trying to change the subject from her own love life to someone else's.
Harry blushed, uncomfortable talking about anything that was about him. She rolled her eyes and kicked his ankle. "Come on, Potter, don't be a prude."
He rolled his eyes, "It's fine... I mean, we just write letters. It's not very... romantic or anything. Definitely no Paris in our future," He joked.
"Not funny,"
Wilson Betemit stared at the new healthcare bill he had been given. He hadn't been able to focus the last few days- his mind was too preoccupied with the prejudice issue he was facing. This show- it had to work. He didn't know what he would do if it failed. He couldn't just lock a bunch of muggle borns and pure-bloods in a room full of dementors in hopes they'd all make nice.
He had put Marty in charge of the project. Young, inexperienced, stuttering Marty. Had he made a mistake? Should he have a put a more senior Ministry official in charge? This project was life or death, after all. But no. Marty was young- he had only been out of school a couple years. He knew what was "cool." He'd be able to find a way to make it interesting for all the young people.
But did sweaty, nervous, shirt tucked into trousers Marty really know what was cool? Did his age really matter? Marty looked like the type of guy that would never be caught dead drunk at a club doing whatever dance move was in. Wilson sighed, this was getting more and more convoluted in his head the more he agonised over it.
There was a knock on his door, making him look up quickly and act like he had been in fact studying the proposed healthcare bill. "Yes?" He called, picking up his quill and skewing up his features like he had important thoughts about the bill.
"Mr. Minister, sir, it's time for your meeting with the muggle prime minister." His assistant said.
Wilson sighed, "Cancel it. I'm in no mood for him. Send me Marty,"
"Marty?" His assistant asked, perplexed. "Minister, this meeting has been set up weeks in advanced. If you cancel-"
"Just do it," he ordered, irritated. The British prime minister annoyed him and Wilson would probably end up saying something insulting if he saw him in his current state of mind. The last thing they needed was a war with muggles.
His assistant nodded, scurrying out of the room. He pushed the binder with the proposed bill aside, waiting for Marty to arrive. Being the Minister of Magic was a pretty rubbish job, he thought, looking around his office. There were no pictures of his family or friends- probably since he was lacking in that department. He'd spent his whole life in politics, working for this day, and now that he was here, he wondered if it was worth it.
Marty poked his head in, snapping Wilson out of his pity party. "Ah, just the man I was waiting to see. How are things going with The Muggle-Pureblood Relations Program?"
Marty walked over and took a seat in front of the Minister's desk. His arms were full of files, his hair plastered against his forehead. Wilson winced as the files cascaded onto his desk, mixing in with his own papers.
"I've got a confirmed list of muggles and pure-bloods," Marty recalled, handing him a piece of paper. "We just need to start matching them up and come up with a shooting schedule."
"And script writers," Wilson put in, studying the list.
"Yeah- wait. What? Isn't this... reality television. Isn't the reality part important?" Marty asked.
Wilson raised his eyes from the page. Simple, little, naive Marty. There was no way the pure-bloods were going to make nice with the muggle borns. The only reason they had agreed to it was because Wilson threatened all the ones he pardoned with a trip to Azkaban if they refused. Apparently Azkaban was worst than muggle borns. This show was supposed to fix things, after all. If they filmed the way they really treated each other, it wouldn't solve anything.
He thought about the best way to enlighten simpleton Marty to this. A part of him didn't want to crush the innocence in Marty. He saw himself reflected back at him, back when he was young and fresh, believing he could do anything- change the world. He now knew it wasn't easy and you couldn't always get there by doing the honourable thing. But another part of him was jealous of Marty's optimism and he was bitter.
He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward, "We can do whatever the bloody hell we want. That's what having power means."
Marty started to protest, he shook his head, "No, I can't-"
"What?" Wilson chuckled, leaning back in his seat and looking up at the ceiling in some sort of sick, twisted amusement. "Are you too good for this? You can't manipulate people- even if it's for their own good? Not everything is black and white, simple Marty. You're too young to see it, but when you reach my age, you'll have lived a hundred years in a short time. Politics changes you. You don't seem convinced," He chastised, looking at Marty's horrified face. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand then: Either you do it my way or I will have you fired and blacklisted from every job you ever attempt to get. Understood?"
Marty nodded. He would do it.
Wilson smiled.
A/N The Malfoys make their appearance in the next chapter! I hope you're excited and ready to dive in :D Thanks to everyone that reviewed, it means so much. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.