Chapter Twenty-Nine

Their breakfast plates were empty in front of them on the table, but neither Harry nor Luna were in a hurry to get up. They each read the article about Hermione and Crouch more than once. Neither of them were close to figuring out what they could do to help.

Harry hated how helpless he felt. It was in his nature to want to help, to 'save', those he cared about most. Hermione certainly qualified. Despite their differences and how their friendship evolved as they got older, she would always be one of his loved ones. Even if she hated the very ground he stood on, he would do whatever he could to make her life easier, to protect her when she needed it.

Learning about Hermione and Crouch hadn't been a surprise. No, he assumed there was something between them early on. The opposite of love was indifference and they were far from indifferent. He noticed that the first time he was in a room together with them. Let Hermione try to call him unobservant again. He'd grown up. The way Crouch declared with such vehemence that there was nothing going on between them nor would there ever be, Harry knew he cared. As emotionally involved as Hermione became working on his case, Harry knew. He just wished they'd been able to be more discreet. Of course he also knew how intrusive the damned reporters could be. He had the benefit of having an Unplottable house. Not everyone else was that lucky.

"Should we go to Hermione? I'd hate for her to think everyone was against her."

"I don't know, Luna. We might be in the way or make it worse."

"There must be something we can do to help."

Harry sighed. Life could be terribly cruel and unfair. It was no one's business where Hermione and Crouch found what little happiness they could. They weren't hurting anyone. Why should anyone care? Everyone was just too damn nosy. Were they all living such boring lives?

"This is why I didn't want us to be public. I didn't want you to be harassed by these monsters."

Luna offered him an encouraging smile.

"I'm not afraid of them or what they might say about me. I know the truth about myself and as long as you know the truth too, no one else matters."

Sometimes Harry feared she was too good to be true and he would wake up from the dream. He leaned over to kiss her which only made her smile again. Was it wrong that he was having such a wonderful morning when others weren't?

"Now let's think of something we can do to help Hermione and Mr. Crouch. There must be something we just haven't considered yet."

"I don't know."

"Could we try to take the spotlight from them? Attention spans are short. If we could figure out how to draw the attention away, it could make it easier for them."

Harry smirked, ignoring the seriousness of the moment to be mildly inappropriate.

"Like what? Some delicious, devious scandal in public?"

"Yes. If I thought it would do any good, I'd let you bend me over a table in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron completely naked during the after-work rush."

Ignoring the sudden tightening of his pants and how his entire mouth seemed dry, Harry was struck with an idea that might just work and keep Luna fully-clothed. If it worked, they could try the table thing in private. He stood abruptly. There wasn't going to be much time if he didn't hurry. There was a lot to do first. He wouldn't resist the chance to kiss her again though.

"Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron a quarter to six this evening. I have an idea."

"What is…?"

"No, it's a surprise."

Hours later his heart pounded in his chest as he opened the door to the popular tavern. Friday evenings after work were always busy. The bigger the crowd, the better. He knew a large number of the Daily Prophet staff liked to stop in for a glass or two when they shut down the day shift. If he was lucky, some of their photographers would even still have their cameras on hand.

Luna stood at the bar with her back facing the rest of the room. Engaged in an animated conversation with Hannah Longbottom, she hadn't noticed he was there yet. Harry cleared his throat and raised his voice so the entire establishment could hear.

"Ladies and gentlemen, might I have your attention please?"

All over the tavern heads turned in his direction, including Luna's. He could hear whispers all around him of his name and 'Dementor Destroyer'. With his eyes focused only on Luna's, Harry crossed the room with all eyes on him. Right in front of his future wife, he dropped to one knee. He pulled the diamond ring he'd been working all day to find and buy out of his pocket. Gasps could be heard all over the room. Soon flashes of light from cameras illuminated the touching scene.


Trusting Rita Skeeter to keep her word about anything was just asking for trouble. Hermione knew her well enough to know she would double-cross them no matter what. The woman was a snake. No, that was an insult to those creatures. Some of them were beneficial. She wasn't.

"I think we have to prepare ourselves for the very real possibility that those pictures of us are going to get out."

Barty's shoulders drooped as she spoke.

"I'm not ashamed of what we did. Never will be. If I was any other man, I would drag you to Diagon Alley and proudly walk with you on my arm, but…"

He couldn't finish his sentence. There really was no need. Hermione understood. He felt ashamed of who he was… no, who he had been in the past and hated that her reputation was being affected. She hated that he felt that way even if she understood. There would always be those who would hate him and by extension, her, for just associating with him. He could cure every single disease known to humankind and save a million orphans from burning buildings and still be loathed and his actions distrusted. It was maddening. Too many people were hateful hypocrites stuck forever in the past.

She leaned over to kiss him again. It didn't seem to help. He just offered her a sad smile as he walked to the sofa. Both kittens immediately jumped into his lap. Maybe they could provide him with a little bit of comfort.

There was only one person she could think of who might be able to help in that moment. Before she could talk herself out of it, she scribbled off a note and attached it to the leg of her owl. As she watched it fly out the window, she caught sight of the group of reporters waiting outside the front of her house. She hated every single one of them and wished she could curse them all. Even thought she might have enough hatred inside her to use half a dozen avadas at least. How dare they? Had they no shame?

"What was that for?"

Barty gestured to the window before she closed it behind the bird.

"We need some help. As much as I hate to do so, I'm putting my pride to the side for the moment."

If he had any further questions for her, she didn't give him the opportunity to ask. Trusting that they would have a visitor sooner rather than later, Hermione returned to the bedroom to get properly dressed. She wanted to feel more in control of her life even if it was as simple as just putting on a pair of clean trousers and getting out of her dressing gown.

Waiting around for something to happen could drive them both mad if they weren't careful. Yet again she hated that she was stuck at home even if she could see the sense in it. If she could've lost herself in her work, time might've been more bearable.

She tried to ignore the fear in her gut about what would happen if she wasn't at the Ministry actively working on Barty's case. Would anyone else care enough to take it up? She didn't think so. His temporary parole wouldn't last forever. She could only imagine the number of owls Kingsley had already received that morning demanding Barty be thrown back in Azkaban. Some might even be demanding she also be thrown into a cell next to his. The Wizengamot was probably being bombarded too. A solution would have to be found soon or he would be back in a damp cell contemplating smashing his head against the stone whether he denied it or not. But she wouldn't give up until he was free for good.

For over a minute she stood in front of her wardrobe just staring at the clothes inside. She tried not to be afraid of what could happen next either with their interview with Rita or if the pictures of their private moments were released to the public. It all felt so insurmountable. There would be no coming back from what they did. She knew it before it happened. Why had she been so reckless, so careless? She'd done nothing but ruined Barty's second chance.

Arms wrapped around her waist from behind. It was comforting. She leaned back against him and he tightened his embrace. Gently he kissed the back of her neck.

"I have many, many regrets in my life, but you are not one of them."

Her eyes welled up with tears. She'd been so afraid that he hated her deep inside and resented her for allowing what happened. If he hated her, she wouldn't blame him. She hated herself enough for the both of them as it was.

"No matter what happens next, I will always be thankful that you kissed me last night… and let me put those incredible tits in my mouth."

She snorted out a laugh. Leave it to him to break the tension in such a way. Playfully and with hardly any force behind it, she elbowed him which only made him laugh. He used his hands to carefully turn her around so they were facing each other.

"Well, I don't have any regrets either."

Except she did, but it seemed the wrong moment to say so out loud. Likely he knew already and was willing to pretend to believe her in the moment.

"Good."

His kiss silenced any opportunity for her to blurt out the worst of her fears. For a short time, they were both able to forget what they were worried about. The sweet kiss quickly escalated. Barty tugged at the belt of her dressing gown. Hermione felt excited. After the night before, she knew exactly how good it was going to be and she was ready for anything to keep her mind off of their troubles.

A loud throat clearing from the open doorway of the bedroom interrupted them before Barty could even untie the belt properly.

"As I recall, lack of awareness of your surroundings and who was watching was how we all got in this predicament in the first place."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Blaise's blunt statement even though she knew he wasn't wrong. When she looked away from Barty she saw him standing casually against the door frame. The blank expression on his face might lead others to believe he was bored, but Hermione knew him well enough to see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Proper Slytherin and all, he might be able to hide his true feelings from most people. Not her. She knew him too well.

"Did you even bother to knock of the door this time?"

"Didn't see the point. The kitchen door was unlocked."

Barty looked at Hermione with a bemused expression that nearly made her laugh. Completely lost, he wanted answers. She tried to offer him an encouraging smile.

"Blaise is the help I thought we could use. I don't know anyone more devious with more questionable contacts than him. If we need help fighting dirty, I don't know anyone else dirtier."

An amused smirk on Blaise's face did make her laugh.

"Most might take that as an insult or a stain on my character, but I don't. Truthfully, I'm not sure you've ever given me a higher compliment, love."

As much as she wanted to roll her eyes, she stopped herself. The man could be too much at times.

"Barty, would you take our guest into the other room while I get dressed and tell him what's going on?"

He agreed. Both men exited the bedroom closing the door behind them. She took another deep breath before reaching for her clothes. They were limited in their options when it came to potential allies able to help them.

Blaise was the first and only one she considered when she knew they needed help. She wasn't sure when she first started trusting her coworker but she knew without question that he could be. Underneath the persona he'd spent his entire life perfecting was a very good man. It surprised her when she came to that realization. She knew she was right though.

Just a matter of minutes later when she stepped out of the bedroom, she found Blaise seated in one of the armchairs next to the fireplace furious. He was skilled at keeping his facial expressions as neutral as possible, but she could tell by the clenched jaw that he was on the verge of wanting to hurt someone badly.

Her note to him had been very vague. All she said was there had been an unexpected development they weren't sure how to handle and could use some advice. A big part of her wasn't even sure he would make the effort to help at all, but considering how only a short period of time passed between her sending the owl and him barging in her back door, he must've dropped everything to leave the moment he read her message. That meant a great deal to her. More so than she even realized until she saw how upset he was on her behalf.

"I have my own issues with the staff of the Daily Prophet, but to know their lead reporter is willing to stoop so low as to blackmail for interviews…"

Blaise stopped himself before he went any further. No doubt it wasn't charitable or kind. His hands clutched the end of the chair's armrests in a tight grip. Hermione was almost scared to know what he was thinking. His anger at being duped by the junior editor was clearly still unresolved. She was glad to be on his good side for the moment. If she was smart, she would do whatever was necessary to stay there. Blaise was an enemy she did not want.

"The arseholes at the Daily Prophet have gotten away with the most unethical behavior for far too long because no one has been willing to stoop to their level out of fear of retaliation."

Nothing Blaise said was incorrect. The most widely read wizarding newspaper in Great Britain did think they were somehow above basic ethical standards of journalism or even the law. Repeatedly their journalists and photographers had shown careless disregard for anything or anyone who had the audacity to get in the way of one of their stories. Papers had to be sold to ensure they could all keep their jobs. What did it matter if innocent people got hurt in the process? They were all expendable.

Even powerful figures in their government like Kingsley was hesitant to make too much of their insidious tactics. No one wanted to become the target of their next series of investigative exposes. Though most had nothing serious to hide, the disruption to their lives and the lives of those around them was incentive enough to keep as low of a profile as possible. Harsher consequences for going too far in their pursuit for the next big scoop might have been the discouragement their reckless organization needed, but everyone was too afraid to make the first step.

"What are you thinking, Blaise?"

She was anxious to know what was going through his mind. As much as it might have annoyed her in the past to recognize, she knew that Blaise was usually three or four steps ahead of everyone else. His strategic mind was brilliant, but she wasn't about to compliment him out loud.

"I'm thinking that I don't see how to get you out of actually sitting down with Skeeter for the interview."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear at all. Hermione felt her stomach twist into painful knots. Any interview with Rita was bound to be unbearable. No matter what they said or how they said it, she was going to twist their words beyond all true meaning. The hateful bitch had a gift for fantastical embellishment. There was no way to be sure how they were going to be quoted. Just as she thought earlier everything was bound to get much worse before it got any better. She could only hope they would survive what was coming.

"You both need to meet with Skeeter as planned, but be as careful as possible with your words."

Frustrated beyond all measure, Hermione didn't bother hiding her groan and the roll of her eyes. Did he really think they were so incapable of independent thought that they were just going to spill all of their secrets when the odious woman was listening? He should've at least known her well enough by then to know she wasn't so incompetent. Instead of being annoyed with her response, Blaise was amused. His smirk only served to irritate his coworker even further.

"It's the Gryffindor in you, love. Maybe you can't help it, but when your emotions run high, you say far more than you should. Skeeter will know how to manipulate you and anything you say."

"I can handle the bitch. I've done it before."

"Yes, by trapping her inside of an unbreakable glass jar. She's not likely to give you the opportunity to repeat that."

Hermione narrowed her eyes to glare at Barty. Was it necessary to bring up that part of her past? And especially in front of Blaise who wasn't aware of the details? His eyes lit up with the hope of hearing a juicy story. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Maybe later when everything settled down and she was pleased with the results.

"Don't get angry with me. Nothing Mr. Zabini said was incorrect and you know it."

Unfortunately, she did. Yes, she did have a tendency to act first and think later. It was a terrible consequence of the company she chose to keep in her adolescence. Or maybe it was a trait she already had in abundance that the Sorting Hat could sense when she was eleven. Who could really be sure?

"Fine. I'll be extra careful when I speak to her."

"Good."

Blaise jumped up to his feet like he was ready to go. How could he even thinking of leaving just then? They hadn't settled anything really.

"There's someone I need to meet with. Best to get it done with as quickly as possible."

"Who?"

His cheeky grin really shouldn't be allowed. Hermione's wand arm itched to curse him just a little bit in his perfect teeth.

"Best I don't reveal my sources just yet. I will, however, need to borrow the copy of the photograph Skeeter gave you, Mr. Crouch."

The thought of Blaise being in possession of the photograph that showed Hermione and Barty in as intimate a position as it was possible to be mortified her beyond words. No, she absolutely could not abide him seeing that. Her dignity might have been suffering, but it wasn't gone completely.

"Did you show him already?"

She didn't mean to address Barty with such an accusatory tone. It simply came out.

"Of course not. I just gave him the barest of descriptions of what it was."

"I know you don't want me to see it, Hermione, but I need to take it to one of my contacts. They can tell us with a few spells just who took the picture. We need to find the photographer."

Sometimes it was difficult to admit that Blaise had a point about anything. He could drive her mad with only the slightest of effort. Understanding that they would have to work together and trust each other to get through their present trials and the others that were sure to come, Hermione took the horrible photograph back from Barty. But she was no fool. She cast a spell on it to blur out most of it before handing it over. Blaise laughed when he saw it.

"You know how to take the fun out of everything, love."

Hermione just rolled her eyes. Was it not bad enough that they were all gathered there because of the inappropriate photos? She didn't want Blaise to see more. It was too humiliating.

"Not surprised to see you on top though. I'd always suspected you liked to be in charge even in the bedroom."

A mild stinging hex to his stomach only made him laugh. Perhaps worried she might try to hurt him even worse, Blaise escaped through the kitchen. She tried to remain hopeful that it would all work out in the end.

When she caught Barty staring at her from the sofa, he pat the cushion next to him in a silent invitation. She didn't really need any further encouragement. Once she was seated next to him, Hermione leaned her head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. It felt so natural to sit there like that with him, like they'd always been doing it.

"What if instead of meeting with Rita, I owl Auror Savage to come over immediately. When he arrives, I put him under the Imperius Curse, order him to remove the tracking spell from you, and then we run away to another country, never looking back?"

Barty chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

"That sounds like a marvelous plan. Let's start packing immediately."

"But how do we get Auror Savage here? Should you steal my wand and try to cast a spell? Or should I owl him that you've run off and I can't find you?"

Barty's laughter was a little louder than before. It felt good that in such a tense moment they were able to find some humor. Maybe all wasn't lost completely. They wouldn't be forever doomed to abject misery.

"I don't think it would take make effort on your part to get the auror back here if you really wanted. I saw the way he kept looking at you when he was here. Just send him an owl saying you only kissed me to make him jealous and now you need help hiding my body. He'll be here in three seconds with a shovel."

Hermione's laugh was more of a snort.

"I don't know if I believe that. He's never shown me any indication I was anything other than an annoyance."

"Then he must be shy. Poor chap."

She laughed again. It all sounded so absurd. Barty wasn't finished teasing.

"Must be torture watching you across Level Two every day and being unable to confess his true feelings."

A poke to his stomach made him laugh, but didn't keep him from continuing.

"I can sympathize with poor Auror Savage. Except I think I had it worse living in the same house. You've never worn one of your sinfully thin nightgowns to the office with nothing underneath it, have you?"

Her cheeks flushed redder with every word he said. Why should she feel embarrassed especially after the very active night they had less than a day before that one?

"No, of course not."

"Didn't think so. No, I was tortured worse than any lovesick auror. That night you woke me up from a nightmare and I could see all the way down your nightie?"

He shook his head and groaned in a dramatic enough manner she laughed.

"I had to stick my head in the sink and turn the cold water on for several minutes before I could face you again in the kitchen."

"You poor darling. I'm terribly sorry. I wondered why your hair was dripping."

Barty leaned his head down to kiss her. It didn't last long but it was long enough to make her want to drag him back to her bedroom.

"Ever since that night I've fantasized what it would be like to pull the straps of your nightie off your shoulders and watch it fall to the floor."

Her heart rate increased. The room felt warmer than usual.

"How long until Skeeter is supposed to be here again?"

"Two, maybe three hours."

Hermione stood up and grabbed his hand to pull him up to.

"Good. Then we have plenty of time. It may not be your exact fantasy, but come with me and I'll let you get me naked just the same."

Enthusiastically he followed her into the bedroom. The evening would bring unpleasantness they couldn't avoid, but in the meantime, they could try to forget it. Inside her bedroom all thoughts of Imperius curses, lonely aurors, and hateful reporters were pushed aside for a little while.