Beta Love: The one and only glittergrrrl05

Disclaimer: HP and the HP universe belong to JK Rowlings and her assigns. I am not one of them. I make no money from this story.

Ch. 9

Thursday Night

Grimmauld Place

Sirius stared into the fire morosely, sipping from his glass of fire whiskey as images of Hermione and Harry played on a loop in front of his eyes. Sirius remembered them as small children, happiest when they were together; his lips quirked up at the ends as he recalled some of the trouble they got into together even as crawlers.

"I think they'll get married some day, Lily." Mary laughed as she recused Sirius's Animagus form from being used as a pony once again.

"You might be right." Lily picked up Harry. "And they'll be the cutest couple at Hogwarts Graduation Ball their seventh year. I bet they'll be voted King and Queen."

Sirius transformed into his human form, and he and James shook their heads. "It's a little early to be making those sorts of predictions, isn't it?"

Sirius's mouth flattened when he remembered what he and James did next. In the quiet of his home he could see where they were good together, but today, when he'd seen Harry's arm around his daughter, he'd had to restrain himself from physically removing the contact. But one thing was for certain: Hermione would need to be shielded from the press even more so than before.

He continued to sort through the day and remembered the witch guarding Kingsley's office. She was feisty and just his type; if he didn't have so much on his plate, he'd take her on a date. And when he drifted off to sleep in his chair as he often did when troubled, he dreamed of smooth, creamy skin sliding over his body and long, slow, deep, wet kisses that went on forever. The unknown witch licked her way down his torso ghosting wet caresses over his cock. He returned the gesture, pulling a hard nipple into his mouth, then kissing his way down to the most intimate part of her. In his sleeping fantasy, he looked up and met a pair of Irish green eyes. And startled awake.

Across town, the vibrant green eyes met steel gray and a witch jolted awake.

Friday Morning

Ministry for Magic

Sirius straightened his tie as the elevator arrived at Kingsley's floor. The doors opened and he made his way into the outer sanctum of the Minister's office. Seated at her desk was Deirdre Kathleen Finnigan, the witch from his dream.

Sirius stopped a respectful distance from her desk and cleared his throat. "Good morning, Ms. Finnigan." He searched her eyes for some sign that she'd shared his dream the night before, but she masked her emotions well. "First of all, I'd like to apologize for being so rude yesterday. I was, umm, somewhat disturbed by events, but that's no excuse for my execrable treatment of you."

Her eyebrows flew upward. He wasn't that bad. "That's fine, Mr. Black. I've endured much worse, I assure you. Now, how can I help you today? I'm afraid the Minister is unavailable at the moment."

"Worse? Someone's treated worse than I did? Please give me their names, Ms. Finnigan. I'll ensure it never happens again."

"That's quite alright, Mr. Black; I can take care of myself. But, again, how can I help you today?" Kate repressed a smile at his cheek.

"I need to make an appointment to see Kingsley as soon as possible. Can you help me with that?"

Kate narrowed her eyes. "Of course I can, but you could've owled for that, Mr. Black."

"Call me Sirius."

Kate considered her next words. Merlin, he was handsome with that twinkle in his gray eyes. Even the lines carved into his face added to his appeal. She relented. "Fine, Sirius. The Minister has an appointment available on Monday at one."

"That's unfortunate. I'd hoped for something sooner." He paused. "The situation I'm hoping to contain is extremely time-sensitive."

"I'm sorry, but that's his only available appointment for several days."

Just then, Kingsley opened his office door, attention on the papers in his hand. "Kate, could you get me the Dolohov file?" He stopped abruptly when he realized she wasn't alone. "Sirius. Everything alright?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could run a few things by you regarding Hermione, but Ms. Finnigan assures me you have no appointments available until Monday."

"Well, Kate would know. But I do have a few minutes left before my lunch is over, so come on in. Maybe we can get it knocked out before my afternoon appointments. Kate, could you bring that file to me as soon as it's available?"

"Of course, Minister."

Sirius quickly followed Kingsley into his office, leaving the door open in his wake. "I'll be blunt. I think we need to get out ahead of this; Hermione's transformation won't stay secret for long."

"I agree, but why do you need me?" Kingsley sank into his desk chair, motioning Sirius to the take the one across from him.

"She's a member of the Order of the Phoenix, one third of the Golden Trio, and now a Black. I think it'd be more strange for the Ministry to ignore this situation," Sirius returned.

Kingsley considered him over his steepled fingers. He dropped his hands to this desktop. "You're right, of course. What do you propose?"

"Minister." Kate's voice interrupted their conversation. "The file." She placed it on his desk and turned to leave, but stopped. "If I may, I suggest you call a press conference and get the speculation over and done, if Hermione is who I think she is. And Minister, you only have ten minutes before your first appointment this afternoon."

"Thank you, Kate; we'll take that under advisement." Kingsley nodded as she resumed her path to her desk.

"I agree with her, but the only problem is Hermione. She has a particular – aversion – to the press after the debacle in her fourth year with that Rita Skeeter creature," Sirius said after Kate had left the room.

"Why don't you take the weekend to talk to her? And we'll set up the conference for Monday at one o'clock, here at the Ministry." Kingsley paused to pull the Dolohov file over. "If she won't do it, then we'll cancel it."

"I'll get in touch with her when I get home." The wizards stood and shook hands, and Sirius headed for the door, stopping beside Kate's desk. "I was wondering, Miss Finnigan, are you free for dinner on Sunday evening?"

And for the first time, Sirius managed to truly discomfit Kate Finnigan. "Well, Mr. Black, I'm afraid-"

"You're not married, are you?"

"No, but-"

"Excellent. I'll owl you for directions to your house and to set up the time." Sirius winked at her before he strolled to the elevator.

Friday Evening

Room #1, Eighths Tower

Sirius's face appeared in the two way mirror on the bedside table. "Harry."

The wizard in question had been staring at the ceiling, tossing a captured Snitch into the air, and sorting through the day's irritants. He took a deep breath, grabbed the Snitch and set it aside before picking up the mirror.

"What's up?"

"Harry, can you get Hermione? I need to talk to her."

Harry's lips tightened as he considered his options, but in the end he gave a short nod of his head. "I can try."

Friday Evening

England Quidditch Training Facility

Ron was sitting at the dinner table with this teammates when Harry's owl dropped down beside him, holding out his leg with a letter attached. He pulled a piece of chicken from his plate and Athena took off after accepting the snack, not waiting for a reply. Ron continued to eat, but tore open the letter eagerly, tuning out discussions of Wronski Feints and the Bulgarians and the Italians.

Ron,

I hope you're doing well. Not sure how to say this, so I'm just going to say it. We've had a shock here. Long story short, Hermione is Sirius's daughter. Her hair is really dark brown, and her eyes are gray. And I think I'm in love with her, but that's got nothing to do with her being Sirius's daughter. I hope you can get home soon because I think she could use your help. And I need to know you don't hate me, because you're my best mate.

Harry

Ron choked on the bite of chicken he had just put in his mouth; he felt like he'd taken a Bludger directly to the skull. He re-read the letter just in case he'd misunderstood. Merlin's saggy y-fronts, what in bloody hell was going on?

He immediately began making plans to see Harry and Hermione. It was Friday night, and he could get permission to be away until Monday morning practice if he needed it.

"Oi, Weasley, you up for a pint? We're headed down to Ogden's to unwind." Oliver drew his attention.

"Uh. No. Just got this letter from a friend. I, uh, need to see about going up to Hogwarts. Have you seen Coach?" Ron's answer caught the attention of his jocular teammates; they all knew who his friends were and, more to the point, they knew where they were.

"Blimey, Weasley, everything alright?" Lost in thought, Ron didn't even know which of his teammates asked him the question.

"What? Oh, yeah. Well, I – I have something I need to do." He drew out his wand and conjured his Patronus, still the terrier, and sent a message to Harry. "I'll be there in the morning, 10:30; meet me at the Three Broomsticks. Bring Hermione." The silvery Patronus turned and ran off.

The head coach walked into the cafeteria just as the terrier made its way out. "Weasley, was that your Patronus? Don't see any Dementors about."

"Yes, sir, that's mine. I've got a bit of an emergency; can we talk?"

10:30am

Saturday

Three Broomsticks

Harry walked into the Three Broomsticks, apparently alone, and settled into the back corner booth. From there, he had a full view of the restaurant and a wall to his back for protection. He seated himself at the end of the bench and watched the front door to the currently empty restaurant. Madame Rosmerta's private rooms were already booked for the day, so this was the best they were going to be able to do.

He didn't have long to wait. Ron walked in, shaking off the cold, and spotted Harry in the corner. After the obligatory one-armed hug, they settled themselves down for brunch and a chat. Harry quietly muttered a muffling spell to fend off any would-be eavesdroppers.

"Oi there, 'Mione, how're you doing?" Ron glanced at the space beside Harry. "I think you can come out."

Slowly, reluctantly, the invisibility cloak moved up. Hermione braced for his reaction to her changed looks. Ron, for once, seemed to know the right response.

"There you are; I've missed you." He held out his hands for her to grasp. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, Ronald, it's hard." She blinked back tears. "But thank you for not freaking out." She shook her head at the memory of returning to the Eighth Tower after her transformation. "Pansy shrieked when she saw me. Shrieked. It was mortifying."

"Don't worry about that bint; she's a few bricks shy of a full load."

A strangled laugh escaped Hermione at Ron's description of Pansy. "She can be dense, can't she?"

He grinned at his ability to make his best girl friend laugh. "So, how can I help?"

Hermione shook her head regretfully. "I don't know, Ronald. Just be my friend. Don't desert me." She couldn't disguise the plea in her voice.

A flash of pain replaced the smile on Ron's face. "Never again, Hermione, never again." He looked at Harry. "Tell me what happened."

It took over an hour to fill Ron in on the particulars of the situation. He also got caught up on the newspaper situation. "Marietta Edgecombe, huh? She always was a sneaky bitch."

"Padma swears she hasn't told her anything else," Hermione said, shrugging.

"Malfoy helped," Harry added.

"Malfoy? Ferret face?" Ron was incredulous. "That tosser helped? Are you sure it wasn't him?"

"Yes, Ronald, we're sure. He's changed," Hermione reassured him. .

He looked to Harry for confirmation.

"It's true. He's still a right prick at times, but nothing like before." Harry responded with only half of his attention. There was a familiar-looking wizard making his way into the restaurant, which was only half full as the lunch hour approached. "Look at that wizard with the brown cloak. I'm pretty sure he was here when we met with Sirius and your mum, Ron. I wonder - think he's with the Daily Prophet?"

Ron reached into his pocket for his wand. "What's the plan?"

"I think I'm just going to introduce myself." Harry abruptly stood up and walked directly to the wizard who, with no ready retreat after making himself at home at the counter, looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a Muggle car.

"Oi there." Harry stuck out his hand. "Harry Potter. And you are?"

"Uh, Harold. Harold Wannamaker."

"Nice to meet you Harold. What do you do for a living?" Harry had yet to release Harold's hand from a very firm grip.

"Err, uhh…" Harold tried to no avail to let go. "I'm, uhh, a photographer."

"Ah, yes, I thought so. You do realize that I'm still a student and so are most of my friends?" Harry paused for effect. "It'd be a shame for such a hard-working man as yourself to be sued for selling photos of students after the Headmistress asked for the press to respect our privacy."

"Uh, yes, yes it would."

"Excellent, then I trust we'll see no more of you, Harold? Because I'd hate to contact my godfather Sirius Black and the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, about students being harassed."

Harold's eyes widened at the threat. "Yes, Mr. Potter. You're right."

"I wish I could say it was nice meeting you, Mr. Wannamaker. But you have a good day."

The photographer fled as soon as Harry released his hand. With a smirk that would do Malfoy proud, he re-joined his friends at their table. They were snickering at the plight of the fleeing wizard.

"What did you say, Harry? He left in quite a hurry." Hermione had never seen him dispatch someone with that kind of efficiency.

"I'm tired of us - no, check that; I'm tired you being harassed, Hermione. I can just see some crazy headline about the three of us, and I'm not going to sit still for it."

"I think my transformation will be in the papers soon enough, anyway." She swallowed hard. "Maybe we should just do what Sirius and Kingsley suggested and call a press conference and get it over with."

Harry hooked his arm around her shoulders. "If you want but only if you want . And we'll be here for you, Hermione." She leaned into this warmth, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath of his comforting scent; it was always the same underlying smell, like leather, grass, sunshine, and broom polish. Without conscious thought, Harry turned his head and kissed the top of her head before turning and meeting Ron's gaze, who simply nodded in understanding. "We'll send an owl to Sirius and Kingsley when we get back to school."

Ron cleared his throat. "Right then, are we good? Do you want me to stay around?"

Hermione straightened and looked at him. "No, no. I'll be alright." She reached out her hand to squeeze one of his. "You'll come visit when you can? And write?"

He released her hand and stood to go. Harry and Hermione followed suit. "'Course I will, 'Mione. I love you." He hauled her into a bear hug and met Harry's gaze over her head. "Harry, you want to walk out with me?" Harry nodded his assent as Ron pressed a kiss to Hermione's forehead.

Harry didn't want to leave Hermione alone, but Draco and Daphne had just walked in. Aside from Neville, those two would be the best to keep her company while he was outside. He caught Draco's eye and waved him over. Draco turned to the blonde at his side, and they changed course to meet at the Trio's table.

"Malfoy, Daphne." Harry greeted the Slytherins. "You remember Ron."

The enmity between Draco and Ron hadn't faded with time.

"Weasel," Draco nodded to Ron.

"Ferret," Ron replied.

The two witches rolled their eyes at the childish display. Daphne decided to take the high road and attempt to diffuse the situation.

"Hello, Ron; it's nice to see you again. I didn't realize you were in town. Will you be staying long?"

Ron dragged his eyes from the staring contest with Draco. "Uh, no. Just needed to catch up with Harry and 'Mione. It's good to see you too, Daphne. You're looking lovely, as always." His compliment was rewarded with a genuine smile from the beautiful witch.

"Listen, Ron, I'll walk out with you." Harry continued his patently transparent attempt to prevent Hermione being left alone. He turned to their classmates. "Why don't you three take a pew? I'll be back in just a minute."

Draco and Daphne settled themselves in Ron's recently vacated bench while Hermione, glaring at the retreating backs of her closest friends, made herself comfortable across the table.

"What's he on about?" Daphne mused.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "It's like he thinks I'm made of glass. It's insane. My looks have changed, not who I am. And it's not like I can't take care of myself."

Malfoy dared to go where angels feared to tread. "Granger, no it's Black now, isn't it? Not to put too fine a point on it, but who you are has changed."

"It has not. I'm still Hermione Jean…" Her voice trailed off. Gamely, she tried again. "My name has changed, yes. But I can still take care of myself."

"We know you can, Hermione." Daphne tried to comfort her. "But things are going to be different now. Like it or not, you're going to be even more famous."

"Don't remind me." She resisted the urge to bang her head against the table top.

Outside, Ron and Harry both faced the street, watching for any sign of an attack by Dark Wizards or paparazzi.

"When did you know?" Ron asked.

"That I'm in love with her?"

"Yeah."

Harry cleared his throat, sounding a bit nervous. "Honestly?" At Ron's nod, he continued. "I've always loved her. I knew I was in love with her after you left us in the woods."

"Did anything . . .?" Ron didn't even finish the thought before Harry shook his head.

"We kissed. Once. And then you came back. And then you two were dating, and I was seeing Ginny. The timing was never right. And now this." He took his eyes off the street and met Ron's gaze. "I'm tired of pretending we're just friends. I don't know if she feels the same, but I have to tell her, somehow. I just need to work out the right time. And I don't want to lose you as a friend over this."

"It's okay, mate; you won't. But she's going to need you. I don't know if you two realize the shit storm of publicity about to come your way. Take care of her."

"Will do." They shared another back-pounding male hug, and Ron disapparated, leaving Harry to return to Hermione.

When he arrived at the table, Draco looked up in relief, an expression Harry never thought to see on his roommate's face in conjunction with his arrival.

"Potter, they've been talking about Masque costumes and Yule Ball gowns. You owe me."

Harry smirked as he settled in beside Hermione, putting his arm on the back of the bench, sheltering her. "Would you rather talk about how Gryffindor is going to hand Slytherin its ass in our Quidditch match?"

Draco sneered. "You wish, Potter."

Harry grinned, minor insults exchanged. "Have you seen the new Firebolt?"

That Afternoon

Eighth Year Tower

Hermione curled into her favorite oversized chair in the common room, reading the latest copy of Charms and Transfiguration Monthly. Harry, coming in from Quidditch practice, broom in hand and still wearing his practice uniform, spotted her and strode over, propping his broom against the chair before he plopped down on the large ottoman at her feet.

"Hey, there. What're you reading?"

"Oh, Charms and Transfiguration Monthly. I picked it up today when we were in Hogsmeade for a bit of light reading."

Harry shook his head, grinning. "A bit of light reading, huh?"

"Honestly. Yes, Harry. Light reading." Hermione snapped back at him before her tone softened. "How was practice?"

He shrugged. "It was practice. We're going to miss Ron. Ginny's great, as always." He paused. "You're not going to believe who our best Beater is, though." She raised her eyebrows in encouragement. "Dennis Creevy."

Hermione's mouth opened just a little bit in surprise. "You're taking the mickey."

"No, I'm not. He's not a big guy, but he's fast and he's got a mean swing. The Slyths aren't going to know what hit them."

Hermione remembered Colin, Dennis's older brother who'd died in the Battle of Hogwarts. He'd always followed them around with a camera, and one of her favorite pictures of the three of them had been taken by Colin in the Great Hall during fourth year. It had gone with on the run last year and was now on her bedside table.

"It's a shame Colin isn't here to see this. He'd have loved to photograph his brother playing Quidditch for Gryffindor."

He looked thoughtful. "You're right; we'll win this one for Colin." He got up to head to the shower but gathered her in his arms for a quick hug.

"Uh, what?"

"I can't give my best friend a hug when it looks like she needs it?"

"Aww, thank you; that's so sweet." She rested her head in the crook of his neck, breathed in, and promptly gagged. "Merlin, Harry, you stink! Go take a shower!"

"What? I'm trying to be nice! Just for that –" He dragged her up and wrapped her in a full body hug.

"Argh, no! Put me down! You smell like a troll!" Hermione struggled to get free, giggling the whole time.

"Not until you say you're sorry." He kept her almost immobile, laughing at her plight.

Neville picked that moment to enter. The sight of Hermione wrapped in Harry's arms, giggling, was a sight to behold.

She spotted him over Harry's shoulder. "Neville, help me! He won't put me down! And he smells like a barn!"

Harry turned around, still holding her captive in his arms, feet dangling, unable to touch the floor.

"Neville, back me up. Do you hear what she's saying? I, the Chosen One, smell like a barn? And earlier, she said a troll. A price must be paid."

"Oh, I agree, Harry. But you need to put her down."

"Why?"

"So you can tickle her." Neville walked away, laughing at Hermione's shrieks of indignation.

"Neville, you traitor! No, stop it! Not the side! ARGHH! Harry! James…argh…stop it…Potter. I'm going to turn you into a slug!"

Sunday Morning

Across Wizarding Britain

Mystery at Hogwarts

Sources tell us that there is a mystery afoot at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and it has to do with Hermione Granger. In Advanced Charms, her long-time friend Harry Potter and rival (perhaps for her affections?) Draco Malfoy apparently broke a charm on her person. Our source claims that she now has darker hair and gray eyes. The only picture we have been able to obtain is of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley (Reserve Keeper for England) and a heretofore unknown witch that we cannot confirm as Hermione Granger. However, we have received word that the Ministry will be holding a press conference on Monday afternoon. We will bring full coverage to our subscribers.

Sirius stared at the grainy picture of Hermione, Ron, and Harry taken through the window of the Three Broomsticks. "Godric damn it." He crumpled the newspaper and threw it into the fireplace. This might be worse than I thought.

Thanks for reading, folks! As usual, Ch. 10 is going up on Bewitching Fiction within the next 24 hours. I hope you enjoyed this update! Please let me know if you did.