Doing Whatever It Takes - orphan_account - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Hermione Granger was proud of her intellect.

However, that same trait led her to make questionable choices that most witches wouldn’t dare to make. If the logic behind the decision was sound, Hermione would choose to do it no matter the moral consequences.

That was Hermione’s way of thinking since childhood, but there was a point where the direction of her thoughts switched. Well, two points, really.

When Harry jumped on the troll to save her during their first year, Hermione put him on a shortlist of people that she truly trusted and cherished. Even now, that list only contained her parents and Harry. Getting put on that list meant that Hermione went out of her way to ensure her actions wouldn’t harm Harry. She even chose to proactively report the Firebolt that Harry received on the minuscule chance that it was a trap. It made Harry angry at Hermione, but that was a price she would pay to keep him safe.

The second point where Hermione started to think differently was after Harry cast the patronus to save Sirius Black. Ever since Harry saved her from the troll, Hermione’s only goal was to keep him safe and happy. Now that goal had changed to make Harry a wizard that would be revered by everyone.

That wasn’t an option before. Sure, Harry was kind and heroic, which deserved Hermione’s friendship, but that didn’t mean he was a powerful wizard. In fact, Hermione thought that Harry was quite average since his schoolwork was mediocre at best. All of that was thrown out when he cast a spell that wizards decades older would have failed at, and that was without considering the power behind the spell to repeal hundreds of dementors.

The historical records that Hermione had scoured hinted at the rare few who had that type of power, and most of them had gone on to reshape the world in their image. Ever since then, Hermione looked at Harry far differently.

He was still her dearest friend, but he was now also the key in which the magical world could be changed for the better. From the moment Hermione stepped into this world, the wonder and excitement of magic had been quickly smothered in favor of disappointment and disgust.

All of this magic had gone to waste in the hands of the lazy, bigoted, and useless purebloods who held onto their diminishing power zealously. Not only did they make the magical world disappointing for Hermione, but they also seemed to have no real threat as competition to their influence in the short term.

Her Harry would change that. Hermione had no desire to patiently wait for the system to change organically. What she desired was a change in the status-quo in her lifetime, and if that required a little bit of force? Then so be it.

But before all of those grand plans, Hermione had to get rid of Harry’s love of being average. With a bit of effort, Hermione was sure that Harry would have been able to keep up with her in schoolwork. At the beginning of their fourth year, she even tried to convince him to drop Divination and take up Ancient Runes to no avail.

What made Hermione furious was the reason Harry gave her. He didn’t want to ditch Ron and drop such an easy class.

Sometimes she wondered if Harry was a pureblood himself with how much he took magic for granted. But that was unfair of her. Hermione noticed how tightly Harry grabbed onto Ron and herself, as if taking his attention away from them would make them disappear. It was sweet that he was such a good friend, but the attachment to Ron was detrimental to Hermione’s plans.

She set out to change that.

A simple potion that exaggerated Ron’s jealousy towards Harry would do the trick. Hermione made it slow-acting so it would seem more natural, and Harry getting picked for the Triwizard tournament appeared to be the trigger. Ron foolishly stuck to believing that Harry was lying about entering the tournament and was on the outs with Harry.

Hermione loved it.

She also loved that Harry was entered into the tournament. Sure, Hermione would have to teach the person who entered her closest friend into a dangerous event a harsh lesson, but this was the perfect opportunity to make Harry realize his own power. He was competing with students who were older and thus had more knowledge, and Hermione knew of Harry’s selective competitiveness. She just had to transfer his attitude in quidditch to this tournament.

Though, with the way he was devouring these books, Hermione didn’t think she would have much of a problem.

“I still can’t believe that they brought in real dragons! What on earth are they thinking?”

Harry glanced at Hermione before focusing on the spell he was reading. Forming giant manacles out of stone might be helpful in the first task… if he was able to learn something this advanced.

Hermione huffed and continued her rant, “Not only that, but the staff are turning a blind eye to Malfoy’s ridiculous badge! By not saying anything, the students are going to take it as a silent approval!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Is that really a surprise, Hermione? Ever since we started Hogwarts, we’ve been taking care of ourselves with little help from the teachers.”

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at the book Harry was reading. She supported that he was actively trying to learn new magic, but that book only contained spells that were defensive in nature. That was perfectly fine, if there wasn’t a fire-breathing monster looking to cook Harry alive in a few days.

Hermione got up and went straight to the book that would be far more effective. Plus, the spells in this book were stunningly difficult to cast. Hermione tried her hand at it and failed miserably. However, the book did say that only magicals of age would be able to have a moderate amount of success. Not only would the book be genuinely helpful for Harry, but Hermione would also be able to make Harry push himself.

First, that pesky little note about the recommended age needed to disappear. Hermione lifted her wand and reluctantly vanished the page with a shuddering breath. She despised people who desecrated books, but Hermione had no choice but to be a hypocrite. She knew if Harry saw that page with the recommended age, he would immediately use that as an excuse to give up and try to find easier spells.

Hermione had justified that uncharacteristic action, but she didn’t know it would be the gateway for far more horrifying acts in the distant future.

Harry was too forgiving.

Hermione had neglected to give Ron the usual potions, mainly because she didn’t think it was necessary anymore, and that had been a mistake. She should have known that a simple apology from the lazy redhead would be enough for Harry to welcome him back.

She was back in the library looking over the various books that she noted for having potential. It was a shame that Harry was off doing nothing productive with Ron again. Hermione had already decided to have a little talk with the Weasley about the issues he was causing. She didn’t want to deprive Harry of his first friend, but if things didn’t change, she really would have no choice.

Hermione shook her head in disappointment. It would have been much easier if Harry hadn’t been such a pushover for his friend. She conveniently ignored that this also benefited her quite often.

On the bright side, the first task was spectacular! Harry didn’t cast any offensive spells to ‘Avoid injuring the poor dragon.’ Still, the stone manacles restraining the monster and a flame-freezing charm worked perfectly. Hermione remembered rolling her eyes at Harry’s excuse for not hurting the dragon, but at least he looked at ease while casting fairly difficult magic. She was glad he didn’t follow Professor Moody’s ridiculous suggestion of using the firebolt. Hermione didn’t know how a piece of wood could possibly stand up against a dragon.

“Excuse me, you are Herm-own-ninny?”

Hermione was broken from her musing to see Victor Krum standing in front of her. She frowned in distaste when she realized how badly he butchered her name. Still, Hermione didn’t want to spend too much time on him, so she ignored it.

“Yes. What do you need, Mr. Krum?”

“I am vanting you to go to the ball with me. You agree?”

Hermione tilted her head and wondered why he would invite her. Perhaps Krum wanted to her help him against Harry? Hermione doubted it, but she honestly couldn’t think of another reason. She was sure he noticed how uninterested she was in being his fan, so Krum surely had known that his fame did nothing for her. Hermione shrugged it off and decided that going to the ball with the Bulgarian wouldn’t hurt. She could treat it as a curiosity while ensuring he had nothing planned against Harry.

“Yes, I agree. I’ll see you then, Mr. Krum.”

Hermione went right back to her reading and vaguely noticed that Krum had stood in the same place for a few minutes before finally leaving. She briefly thought that Krum might actually be attracted to her but threw that thought away. Even if it was true, it made no sense for Hermione to have her first romance with a much older boy who lived in another country. That seemed like a massive waste of time.

The days following up to the ball were worse than usual. Not only did Hermione have to endure Harry mooning over Cho Chang like a besotted fool, but she also had to experience Ron’s poorly worded invitation to the ball. She would have never accepted it purely because of the end goal of separating him from Harry, but the sheer disbelief that Ron had on his face when Hermione said she already had a date couldn’t be forgiven easily. Hermione didn’t care too much about her appearance as long as she looked presentable, but she would make it a goal to doll up for the ball out of pure spite.

Hermione noticed Harry awkwardly trying to bridge the growing gap between his friends. It was also noticed that he leaned more toward her side. That was an unexpected boon. Harry would usually pretend that a fight wasn’t happening and willed it away with feigned obliviousness. The fact that he was taking sides, especially Hermione’s side, was good news.

On the day of the ball, Hermione looked at herself critically in the mirror. With the help of Lavender, Hermione had to admit that she was surprisingly pretty. A liberal amount of Sleekeazy’s hair potion, a dab of make-up, and a form-fitting dress did wonders for her looks. Hermione didn’t usually consider herself physically attractive, but doing so right now would be illogical.

Ron Weasley’s face when he saw her made all of the effort worth it to Hermione. More importantly, Hermione noticed the stunned look Harry had on his face. She noticed that he didn’t moon over Chang and instead found his eyes constantly on her. Hermione instantly recognized it as attraction, which she didn’t expect.

While dancing with Krum, Hermione’s mind was filled with musings of what to do with this new discovery. She wasn’t too interested in relationships, and while that might change in the future, that meant Hermione had to pretend to be oblivious to Harry’s looks for now.

This did, however, give her new possibilities.

The new school year was churning out many unpleasant surprises. Not only did a ministry stooge have a teaching position, but a certain asian girl was also getting far too chummy with Harry.

Hermione’s eyes twitched when she noticed Cho Chang hovering in the background as the club wrapped up its meeting. Chang had made it annoyingly obvious that she was interested in Harry. Hermione wouldn’t have minded in most situations, but that girl had her boyfriend killed and her reaction was to go after the boy that was there during the murder.

Hermione saw issues with that.

“I’ll be right back, Harry.”

Hermione walked towards Chang with Harry staring after her. She knew what the black-haired wizard wanted. Hermione had already decided that deepening the relationship was the natural step with Harry. Even though she wasn’t ready for the next level quite yet, Hermione would still take action to stake her claim.

Chang stiffened as Hermione got closer and looked as if she was about to face a rival. Hermione scoffed at that in her mind. As if someone like Chang had any right to look at her like that.

“Cho!” Hermione greeted with an obviously fake smile.

“Hermione.”

“You don’t have to help clean up every time,” Hermione continued as if she didn’t notice the glare from Chang, “Harry will have me for help.”

“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like others helping.”

Hermione had to credit Lavender for having the patience to have conversations like this. Roundabout sentences with nothing directly mentioned. She didn’t like it.

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione gave up the pathetic effort she was making to sound… not like herself.

“Look, stay away from Harry. He doesn’t need an emotional wreck trying to latch onto him while Voldemort is out there.”

Chang flinched at the dark lord’s name but stiffened her shoulders. “You have no right to talk to me like that!” Cho shot back, “And you know what? I think I want to hear that from Harry himself!”

Hermione tilted her head curiously as she watched Chang storm to Harry and say something to him. Judging by Harry’s expression, Hermione assumed that he didn’t mind what he heard. This was still an easily fixable situation, so Hermione focused on what went wrong. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so blunt with her warnings. When she went over the short interaction, Hermione decided that she needed to learn how to speak differently depending on the situation.

As she blankly watched Harry receive a kiss on the cheek from Chang, Hermione wished that Ron was still close enough to Harry to stick around and be an obstacle. Those potions worked just a little too well in making Ron distance himself from Harry this year. The redhead still talked to Harry in passing, but Hermione could confidently say that Ron no longer had a ‘best friend’ label. It was what she wanted, but even Hermione had to admit Ron’s brashness would work wonders in dissuading Chang.

Hermione had her arms crossed as the asian girl gave her a triumphant look before leaving the room. She idly wondered whether it was a problem that there was no jealousy when Harry received that kiss on the cheek. From what Hermione knew, it was expected to feel some emotions when a girl was getting close to a boy you liked. After a few moments, Hermione decided she didn’t feel threatened because Chang simply wasn’t a real threat. She was confident that Harry would drop Chang when she made her interest known.

“Er… Hermione? You ready to go?”

Hermione glanced at Harry and briefly considered asking what Chang wanted simply to see his reaction. She eventually decided to pretend that she didn’t care and replied with a smile, “Of course, Harry. You want to go down to the library?”

Hermione had to hide a smile when a disappointed look flashed on Harry’s face.

As predicted, Chang wasn’t hard to get rid of. Hermione didn’t even need to do anything to make it happen. It turned out that Chang was a weepy mess and made Harry’s first kiss a disaster. Hermione briefly debated cursing Chang for daring to kiss her Harry, but she realized that this could be something positive. Hermione would be able to show Harry what a real kiss felt like.

Before all that, she had to deal with this situation.

Hermione had tricked Umbridge into following her into the forbidden forest to search for some ‘secret weapon.’ Honestly, Hermione was once again disappointed by the employees of the Ministry of Magic. Even a child in the muggle world would have realized something was wrong in this situation. Nonetheless, this worked out for Hermione.

“Just a little further, Professor.”

Hermione ignored the pompous bragging along with the insults to her blood that Umbridge spat out and focused on getting to the destination. She had initially intended to lead Umbridge to the centaurs, but Hermione kept remembering the scar of Harry’s hand. It wouldn’t have mattered if the scars were on anybody else, but not Harry.

The centaurs were discarded as an option.

Hermione knew it was likely that Umbridge would have left unscathed if she was taken to them. That wouldn’t do after the pain she had caused Harry. Hermione remembered what Harry had experienced in their second year and decided that death by Acromantula would be a fitting end to this monster of a witch.

“I can’t hope to get past this tree. Professor Dumbledore warned that only teachers of Hogwarts are allowed to.”

Complete bullsh*t that even a first-year would find suspicious, but considering Umbridge’s intellect, Hermione didn’t bother trying harder.

“Move aside!”

Hermione restrained herself from drawing her wand when she was pushed aside. Umbridge confidently strode forward and looked around for anything that looked like a weapon.

“Well? Where is it?”

“You need to walk a little further, Professor. Just a little to your right.”

Hermione eyed the giant spider hanging down from the tree that Umbridge was walking to. There was a chance that the pink-loving witch would look up to see the monster, but Hermione would just stun her and be done with it. However, She preferred that Umbridge be aware of the death that was hanging above her. The terror and helplessness would be part of the punishment for the pain she caused Harry.

“Did you just bring me out here to waste my time?! I’m warning you, Granger, I’ll have you expelled if you are!”

Hermione ignored the ranting and watched as the Acromantula slowly descended. With a smile, Hermione said, “I don’t think you will.”

“Wha— AAAHHHHHHHH.”

Umbridge was cut off as she was pulled up into the spider’s web and quickly wrapped in silk. The screams turned into muffled wailing as Umbridge’s mouth was covered and continued until the Acromantula’s bite put her to sleep.

When she left the forest, Hermione had a happy smile on her face.

Sometimes Hermione wondered if fate wanted Ron and Harry together. After all of her work to keep them apart, Dumbledore left Ron something in his will. Of course, Harry took that as a sign that the redhead had to come with them to hunt for the Horcruxes. Hermione was just glad that neither of them seemed too happy with that decision.

“WE’VE BEEN GOING IN CIRCLES! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT WE HAVE TO DO?”

Hermione stood a few feet away from the screaming match that randomly started. Once again, she mentally patted herself on the back at her success.

That necklace was dangerous, and while Hermione hated to wear it, there was no other way to make Ron do the same. She did make sure that Ron was exposed the most to the locket's effects.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE THEN? LEAVE!”

And there was Harry with his short temper. Hermione was proud to feel the magical aura that billowed out from Harry’s body. That resulted from Hermione’s efforts in the past few years after making Harry learn powerful magic.

“FINE!”

Hermione quirked a brow when Ron turned to her.

“What about you?”

Hermione scoffed and simply said, “Leave the locket.”

Ron’s face grew an ugly red as he flung the locket to the ground and stormed out of the camp. Hermione muttered, “Good riddance,” before looking at Harry.

He had a disappointed look on his face as he stared at the silver locket. He blankly said, “When did Ron become like that? He always had a problem with jealousy, but he was a good mate in the end. Now it seems like he’s someone completely different.”

Hermione slowly walked to Harry before wrapping her arms around him in a soft hug. She smiled when he returned the hug and buried his face into her hair. Hermione was glad that she started to tame it after Harry’s reaction to her at the yule ball.

“People change, Harry. Ron might have been a good friend when we were younger, but friendship doesn’t always last.”

Hermione didn’t mention that she was the reason it fell apart. It was still something she regretted, but Ron was too much of a bad influence on her Harry.

Harry tightened his grip on her waist before he asked, “Does that include you too?”

Hermione was about to just deny it before pausing. This was a perfect time to change their relationship.

She pulled away to look Harry in the eyes and smiled when he looked down at her lips. With a determined tone, Hermione replied, “Never.”

Harry’s eyes bulged when he felt soft lips on his own. He floundered in panic before following Hermione’s lead and kissed her back. This was much better than the salty wetness that Cho put on him after the DA meeting.

He would have loved to continue this, but a rapidly hardening problem in his trousers made Harry pull away with a blush. Judging Hermione’s amused expression, she knew precisely why he pulled away.

“Er… why’d you do that?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “That’s the first thing you say? I like you, Harry. I liked you for a long time, and I was tired of being just friends.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, Oh,” Hermione said with a giggle.

“I like you too.”

Hermione rolled her eyes again and pulled Harry into another kiss. This time there was a lot more tongue involved as Harry and Hermione explored each other's mouths like the teenagers they were.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Chapter Text

It had been a difficult few years since Harry had got rid of Voldemort. Everything Hermione tried to do seemed to be put on the back burner by the old men in power while they smiled at her patronizingly. She could have sworn that her goal for joining the Ministry of Magic was to use it to change the pathetic magical world, not to do pointless errands for wizards that weren’t fit to lick her shoe.

Hermione often got the thought to simply fix all of her problems with a nicely timed disappearance here and there, but doing so would be against Harry’s principles… and that wasn’t acceptable. He had already warned Hermione about what he considered crossing the line.

No matter how much she tried to hide her… differences in the line of thought compared to ordinary people, Harry slowly realized that Hermione could be frighteningly dangerous when her mind was made up.

She shuddered at the rage Harry was in when he found out what she had done to Ron. Hermione never regretted the consequences of her actions before… well, not enough to feel guilt at least, but it came close at that point. Simply because Hermione thought that Harry might actually leave her over it.

Thankfully, that didn’t happen. Much to Hermione’s delight, Harry loved her too much to leave, even when she was the cause of the destruction of his first friendship. Hermione made sure to reward Harry that night and didn’t stop until he slept with a dopey smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Granger. I simply don’t have the time to make modifications to the bill.”

While Hermione gave the old fart a pretty smile, she kept repeating in her mind that Harry would probably find out it was her if his main obstacle in the Wizengamot dropped dead. It was hard to keep that in mind when the old bastard kept looking at her like he wanted to devour her.

It took Hermione an embarrassingly long time to realize it, but apparently, she was considered to be fairly attractive to the opposite sex. It wasn’t really her fault since all that mattered to Hermione was that Harry found her pleasing… which he most certainly did, so as far as Hermione was concerned, she didn’t have to be attractive to anyone else.

The men in the Ministry made sure to show Hermione how wrong her thinking was. It was like there was a contest to one-up another in how disgusting they could be. Sure, it was all verbal, and nobody dared to try anything physical with her, but Hermione suspected that if it wasn’t for Harry, then she would have had to cut off quite a number of hands for wandering too close. The lords that leered after her might have thought that Hermione was safe because of Harry’s power, but they didn’t know that Harry was the reason most of them were still breathing.

“Ms. Granger, I don’t see why I can’t try and help you a little. Like I said, I don’t have the time… but if I receive a little… encouragement, I might be able to do something.”

Hermione’s brown eyes sharpened as she focused on Lord Selwyn. She had honestly forgotten she was still talking to the reprobate.

“Oh? What kind of encouragement?”

Selwyn pointedly stared at her breasts before trailing down to her legs, “I think you know, Ms. Granger. Let’s not act dumb here.”

Hermione tilted her head with a blank face before a slow smile grew on her lips. She looked into Selwyn’s eyes as she unbuttoned the top few buttons on her blouse. The old fart practically drooled as more and more of her pale skin was revealed.

Hermione sauntered close to him and said, “You don’t mind if I use my wand to put up some privacy wards, do you?”

Selwyn waved his hands carelessly and said, “Do what you must. I think I’d like you to be under my desk. It’ll be a treat to know I got Potter’s woman to blow me while telling him I support his bill.”

There was a flicker in Hermione’s eyes as she pulled out her wand and put up wards that would obscure the room from anyone trying to snoop. The fool had freely given permission to draw a wand simply to get his co*ck sucked. The only thing that kept him safe was if he didn’t say those words, but now that he did, nobody would be alerted to spells being cast from her wand. Hermione was happy her attractiveness was helpful in things that mattered… like murdering old f*cks that dared to try and take what was Harry’s.

After the wards were up, Hermione flicked her wand at Selwyn, who was already disrobing in anticipation of what was coming. Too bad that the only thing he would be getting was death.

Selwyn stiffened and froze before slowly falling to the floor face-first. There was a loud crunch and a splatter of blood as his nose broke, not that Hermione cared. There would even be a convenient explanation for this since the soon-to-be-late Lord Selwyn would die from a heart attack and must have fallen on his face.

“You know, you’re quite lucky that we’re at the Ministry. I wish I could use you to practice some curses that can’t be used on decent people. My Harry is trying to build something that would help this world, and its people like you that are making him feel like giving up.”

Selwyn made some muffled noises that vaguely sounded like threats.

Hermione kicked him to flip him over and cast a stinging spell right at his manhood, smiling when he screamed through his closed lips as the petrificus totalus prevented him from protecting himself.

“Yes, I’m sure you’ll show me my place when you’re six feet underground.”

Lord Selwyn immediately threw away his dignity when he realized what she intended to do and whimpered in fear. He looked up at Hermione, who suddenly seemed like an angel of death, with teary eyes and pleaded silently.

“Oh, don’t worry too much, you useless excuse of a wizard. It’s about time for you to go anyway. You know, with your age and everything. I’m just speeding along the process a little. If it makes you feel any better, your son might join you and give you some company if he doesn’t learn his place. Can’t have a younger version of you settle his arse in your seat, can I?”

Selwyn’s last memory was Hermione’s wand shooting a spell into his chest before he died, the last thing he felt being a sharp pain in his heart.

Hermione walked to the apparition point after another day wasted. She had gotten rid of Selwyn a few days ago, but that bastard was just replaced by another that didn’t seem to get how the world should work. It was too soon to do anything drastic, but old Parkinson would quickly be sent into retirement if things didn’t change.

“Did you know Lord Selwyn’s son came to the minister demanding further investigation?”

“Really? What’s there to investigate? The old man died of a heart attack. And you know what he was rumored to be up to. Maybe he offed himself by wanting to get with one of his secretaries.”

Hermione didn’t stop to snoop on the conversation. It wasn’t her business what the new Lord Selwyn wanted to do about his father’s case, and she was above reproach. The old guard might be blockading Hermione and Harry with time-wasting strategies to kill the bills they didn’t want. Still, none of them were foolish to do something as overt as accusing one of them of a crime. The wizarding public would mob anyone who dared to.

Hermione stepped into the apparition zone and twisted, disappearing with a crack and arriving at her cozy home. It was a flat near Diagon Alley, giving Harry and Hermione a perfect place that was close to everything they needed. Sure, they could floo or apparate if they lived elsewhere, but their burgeoning political careers were the most significant influence in picking the place to live.

Being a regular face to so many witches and wizards helped keep their popularity high. That was key if their plans were to have any sort of success.

“Welcome home, Hermione.”

Hermione let out a little gasp of delight and yelled, “Harry!”

Harry grunted when he found himself holding up Hermione’s body after she literally jumped on him. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her wavy hair, taking comfort in the person he knew would always stand by him.

Hermione looked at him with bright eyes and said, “We should celebrate! I heard that you’re finally making progress!”

Harry hummed in agreement, “Old Selwyn really did have his fingers in everything I was pushing for. After he passed away, it’s like there was no united opposition to the amendments we wanted… though Parkinson is trying to change that.”

Hermione nuzzled her face into Harry’s neck, “Don’t worry about him, Harry. It’ll all work out in the end.”

Harry hummed again but stayed silent for a few minutes. Mostly to think about how conveniently everything was falling into place. Sure, there would be more roadblocks to hurdle in the future, but that was more because of Harry’s own making. He remembered Hermione’s disappointment in him when he decided to give the people who silently supported Voldemort a second chance, much like what his mentor Dumbledore preached.

Harry had a feeling that if he hadn’t discovered what Hermione had done to Ron a few days prior back then, she might have gone to drastic lengths to change his mind. She was unusually agreeable to whatever Harry wanted for a few months before going back to normal. But in the end, Hermione went along with what he wanted to do, even though she constantly let him know it was a mistake.

Like in most other situations, Hermione turned out to be correct. There were many moments where Harry wished he had used the vacuum of power at the end of the war to clean house, but he was barely an adult at that time. Hermione was the only one between the two who had the foresight to see what would happen. His naive thinking ended up putting him in an uphill fight.

Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by soft lips pressed against his, bringing back his attention to Hermione’s chocolate-colored eyes as she pulled back.

“What’re you thinking about? That’s not a look of someone finally having things go their way.”

Harry smiled wryly before moving to take a seat and pulling Hermione to sit on his lap. He never did like admitting when he was wrong, but he was unfortunately put in that spot quite often with Hermione as his girlfriend. However, there was one benefit to doing so.

“You were right, Hermione.”

“Well, of course! But with what exactly?”

Harry snorted in amusem*nt and said, “With bringing down the hammer on these damned purebloods. I should have done as you said.”

Hermione frowned in thought before remembering what he was talking about. It was such a long time ago, plus there was no point in thinking about what could have been. But it was music to her ears to hear that she was right, purely because Harry once again knew she made good decisions. It was something that Hermione unsubtly pointed out ever since the Ron fight.

Harry could see his girlfriend’s pretty face light up in a smile before gaining a fake humble look. “It’s alright, Harry. It’s too late to change that, but we’re well on our way to fixing it, aren’t we?”

Harry nodded while ignoring the hands trailing down his torso. Hermione always did get horny after being told she was right. Harry might not like admitting he was wrong, but since it was usually to Hermione, he always did so with a hint of glee. Purely because they ended up having the best sex of their lives after the confession.

Harry smirked when Hermione’s small hands dug through his trousers and wrapped around his thick shaft. She bit her plump bottom lip and said, “How about I get your mind off this?”

Harry shifted a little, making more room for Hermione’s wandering hands while palming her bottom. She didn’t know how many eyes that part of the body drew to her, but Harry keenly felt the rage at the men and women that dared to look too long.

Hermione giggled and pushed her heart-shaped arse into his hands while using both of hers to slowly stroke his co*ck. She was reminded of when they had fooled around in the tent while on the run. Those were exciting times, the thrill of danger around every corner with only each other to depend on. Not much has changed in Hermione’s mind. The only thing was that they traded the tent for a nice apartment.

She teased the head of Harry’s co*ck with her thumb and said, “What’s next, Harry. Is Parkinson going to be a problem?”

Harry slid his hand from Hermione’s arse to her hip, stroking the sliver of exposed skin. It was predictable that this came up. Ever since Hermione learned that sweet-talking him into something was easier with his co*ck in her hands, she had been relentless with that strategy.

Harry did nothing to dissuade her from doing it. Not only were the things that Hermione wanted Harry to do beneficial for him, but it also gave her a sense of accomplishment that she ‘persuaded’ him into doing something.

But Harry had to cut this line of thought right now, “Hermione, I still want Parkinson to be living when I see him next time. He’s a fool, but a fool that can be brought to our side.”

Hermione’s hand stopped before resuming its movement up and down his shaft. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and moved her hands away before pulling her again into his body. Hermione gasped while staring into Harry’s eyes, her lips almost grazing his.

“I think we both know what I'm talking about. You might have erased all of the traces, but I know what you did.”

Hermione stayed silent for a couple seconds before trying to defend herself, “He wanted me under his desk! I swear I didn’t want to do it, Harry, but how can I let someone like that go?”

Harry’s eyes darkened in anger as Hermione shivered in lust at feeling his magic blanketing around her body. “I wasn’t going to blame you even if he didn’t do that. But know that I know, you let him off far too easily.”

Hermione relaxed against him, happy that this wouldn’t be another lecture about the morality of what she had done.

“We can’t just get rid of everyone that annoys us, Hermione. Once might be alright, but even the sheep would figure out something’s wrong if the people against us keep dropping dead.”

Hermione knew he raised good points, but that didn’t mean there weren’t ways to have the perfect alibi when those people drop dead. She would let it go for now, but there would be plenty of chances to bring it back up later.

“If you say so, Harry,” Hermione said while lifting herself from Harry’s lap. She pulled his co*ck out and vanished her skirt along with her underwear. “But enough about old men who lived too long. Let’s celebrate.”

Harry grunted when Hermione’s puss* surrounded his shaft, and her face crashed into him for a rough kiss. Hermione bit his bottom lip softly and pulled back before letting go. She panted while slowly riding his co*ck with her hands buried in his messy hair.

“I can never get tired of how good you feel inside me.”

Harry kissed her jaw and said, “And I can’t get over the feeling of being in you. Knowing that you’re mine. Mine to f*ck.”

He pulled Hermione down harshly, making her squeal in shock.

“Mine to kiss.”

Hermione moaned when she found her tongue pushed back into her mouth with Harry’s lips covering hers. She hugged him while bouncing her hips, the arse that Harry praised clapping down on his lap while Hermione relentlessly chased her org*sm. She moaned into Harry’s lips when his co*ck kept hitting a specific spot in her puss*, making sparks shoot through her whole body.

Hermione’s arse planted itself on Harry’s lap with one last thundering clap as she let out a muffled squeal. Her puss* gushing out juices that stained Harry’s trousers. Hermione’s whole body quivered in pleasure, but Harry’s didn’t let her be. While she was in the middle of her org*sm, Harry grabbed her hips and used her like a pleasure doll. Lifting Hermione before dropping her onto his co*ck, making her already sensitive puss* flutter, extending her org*sm and making her eyes roll back into her head.

A few minutes later, Harry pushed his co*ck into Hermione until his balls touched her lower lips, groaning softly while letting loose into her womb. Rope after rope of hot cum splashed into the back of Hermione’s puss*, prolonging her org*sm even more. She let out a weak sound of defeat as she slumped into Harry’s arms, staying in that position for minutes before she could even talk.

“Are you sure Parkinson needs to live?”

Harry burst out laughing at Hermione’s first sentence after coming back from her org*smic trip.

“I do apologize, Lord Potter. I can’t get the support of the others for this. I might be the nominal head, but I can’t speak for the others.”

Harry sighed, “I understand, Lord Parkinson. I appreciate the effort.”

He left the office and strode back to the main atrium. Parkinson had been getting more of a backbone ever since Harry made some compromises at the start. Hermione warned him of this, but Hermione was also the person advocating for getting rid of Parkinson altogether. Harry didn’t really take her seriously since he knew that.

Harry wondered how many times it had to happen before he took Hermione’s advice the very first time.

“Mr. Potter!”

He nodded and smiled at the witches and wizards happily greeting him as if it was the first time they had seen him. Harry kept the grin on his face and pretended like this hadn’t happened almost every day, with nearly the same people.

As he gave his canned answers to whoever was asking him questions, Harry wondered why he was trying to do things the right way. The people he fought for in the war were still marginalized, with only token roles given to show that there had been ‘change.’ It wasn’t a secret to anybody that the Ministry was still run by the same people with different mouthpieces saying flowery words.

“Harry! There you are!”

The sea of people parted as Hermione walked toward Harry with a bright smile. She kissed him on the corner of his mouth when she reached him and pulled him out of the crowd.

After casting the muffling spell around them, Hermione asked, “How did the meeting with the new Lord Bigot go?”

Harry chuckled, “As you could expect. My hope that he was corrupt enough to be swayed by galleons wasn’t true. It looks like old Parkinson is a true fanatic.”

Hermione squeezed his hand before asking, “Does this mean….”

Harry nodded, “He has to go. I’m getting the idea that this is a complete waste of time. They are so entrenched that we’d have to wait for them to die out. Even then, the successors might be just as bad.”

Hermione could not have been more turned on by what she was hearing. She had been wasting her life away for years since they finished the war. The thrill she got when completing her goals had entirely disappeared, mainly because none of her goals were reasonable in the current Ministry system. Even the overarching plan to pass on any Ministry jobs to be Harry’s employee wasn’t working as intended.

Her real position in the Ministry was being Harry’s secretary, not because she couldn’t get a job herself, but because Hermione didn’t want to waste time doing administrative tasks. They were practically begging to fast-track Hermione to be a department head, but she had bigger dreams than settling for that.

As Harry’s secretary, her self-assigned role was to monitor the people who wished to block their vision for the future. Hermione was successful in that, but there was nothing she was able to do to these people. Well, until recently, that is.

Harry had been on a pacifistic streak after the war. It was like everything Hermione had pushed him toward in school had disappeared. Instead, a man who had endless patience took Harry’s place. It rankled Hermione at the start, but she decided that if this was what Harry decided, all she had to do was wait for him to get fed up.

And here it was.

“Do you want me to do it now? Or…” Hermione trailed off.

Harry tugged her closer to him as they walked and said, “I should be concerned that you seem so eager. But no, not right now. Let’s give him a few more days to live. He’s presiding over a few Lords getting sworn in next week. I want his death to make a statement.”

Hermione looked at him in surprise. That was a very un-Harry-like thing to do. There must be something that Parkinson did that didn’t sit right with him. It didn’t really matter too much for Hermione. All she saw was the chance to make their dream just a little bit more attainable.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Chapter Text

It felt strange to Harry that he was sending Hermione to eliminate a political opponent. He was firmly against using his girlfriend like an assassin, but the silly witch demanded that she should be the one to do it.

From the far-too-happy grin on her face as she insisted, Harry knew that Hermione would relish in the feeling of being able to get rid of Lord Parkinson. If only that poor sap took the bribe money and sat his arse in a seat. That would have avoided all this mess.

Mess… Harry was aware using that word when a life was about to be taken was callous, but he simply didn’t care anymore. After he discovered that Ron had been dosed by Hermione into acting like an utter tool, Harry went ballistic. He could forgive Hermione for many things, but he didn’t think destroying his first ever friendship was one of them.

Even now, Harry could remember the rage that coursed through his veins. Hermione didn’t know how close he was to breaking it off with her, but only stopped when he realized that Ron wouldn’t be coming back. Even though the redhead might have been potioned, he would remember every hurtful word Harry had hurled at him. Knowing Ron’s natural pride, it would take a while to regain the friendship without exposing Hermione’s actions. Even then, it wasn’t a sure thing.

Fear and loneliness kept Harry from cutting Hermione off. But he was glad it happened that way. Harry couldn’t imagine a life where she wasn’t by his side. Of course, his life would have been much easier if he had realized that back then.

After knowing Hermione’s actions, Harry purposely shrank away from the aggressive steps she seemed so fond of. This was where the decision on the Ministry came in. Harry had held all the power for a brief moment, and the wizarding world looked at him like he was the next Merlin. So many things could have been righted, but Harry decided to follow Dumbledore’s path and willingly gave up most of that power.

There was no use thinking about past mistakes. Harry and Hermione were taking steps to rectify them, so all he had to worry about now was how to keep Hermione from going too far. She had been vicious when it suited her back in school, but it seemed like she was like that all the time now. Hopefully, she would revert back to her old self when there weren’t so many c*nts blocking their reforms in the Ministry.

Once again, Hermione wondered if men always thought with their co*cks. It was pathetically easy to get past the ‘security’ of their little bigot party. All she had to do was wink and flirt a little before getting in. It seemed that being a mudblood didn’t mean much when the mudblood had a nice pair of tit* and a firm arse.

Hypocrites.

She could have asked for an invitation to the party as Harry’s representative, but that would involve being in a lower position than the soon-to-be-dead Parkinson. Neither Hermione nor Harry could allow that, so crashing the little get-together would have to do.

“Granger?”

Hermione stopped and turned to see who called for her. Not many here would call her ‘Granger,’ but when she saw a platinum blonde head, it made sense.

“Malfoy,” Hermione nodded, “I didn’t think you would be invited to this.”

Draco grimaced but had to admit Hermione was right, “I didn’t either, but I got one for some reason, so here I am… What are YOU doing here?”

Hermione felt a little sorry for him. After the war, almost everything his family had was either used up by Voldemort or had been exhausted in trying to redeem his name. The Malfoy family used to be power brokers in the Ministry, but they could now barely qualify to get invites to low-level parties.

Then again, maybe this was karma for Draco being a prick during school.

“It’s Lord Parkinson’s big day,” Hermione said with a glint in her eyes, “I wouldn’t dare to miss it.”

Draco stiffened and took a step back in shock. He wasn’t sure why, but Hermione seemed too similar to his Aunt Bellatrix for a moment. That was impossible, though. It must be his trauma flaring up again randomly. It was common these days for Draco to wake up sweating from the horrors he had gone through during the war.

Still, the Malfoy suddenly wanted to put some space between him and Hermione. “That’s nice… I’ll leave you to it then. I just wanted to say sorry for how I acted at Hogwarts.”

Hermione tilted her head curiously and wondered where the apology came from. As far as she knew, Draco had nothing to gain from doing it… so it might be from the heart? Hermione smirked, amused at her own thoughts, and waved Draco off after a nod at what he said.

“Ms. Granger! I’m so happy you could make it! I would have personally delivered the invitation if I knew you wanted to attend!”

Hermione gave Lord Parkinson a polite smile and felt a little giddy at what she was about to do. The man hadn’t personally offended her, but since Harry was, it was practically the same thing. Unlike Selwyn, Parkinson didn’t try and get sexual favors from the women around him. He was purely interested in hoarding power and keeping his vision of Magical Britain a reality. That made Parkinson potentially more dangerous than the deceased Selwyn, whose main goal was getting his dick polished.

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, Lord Parkinson.”

With a wave of his hand, the host laughed loudly, “Then I’m glad it happened! It would have been a sadder day without you here.”

Hermione smiled before he excused himself and moved on to another newcomer. She had to admit that Parkinson knew how to work a crowd and make himself seem friendly. Too bad those skills won’t be too helpful to escape death.

Draco sat at a table far from where most of the important guests were seated. He didn’t mind, though, especially after he had talked to Hermione. Draco had forgotten about it since his later years in Hogwarts were spent slaving for Voldemort, but there had been rumors going around the castle that Umbridge had been last seen with Hermione before she had been found half-eaten.

Draco hadn’t even thought of Hermione being the cause of Umbridge’s death back then. Still, after seeing the image of Aunt Bella when looking at the witch, he wasn’t so sure anymore. If his suspicions were true, something would happen at this event that would prove it.

“Hello, Draco.”

Draco shifted his eyes away from Hermione to see Pansy standing next to him. His former hanger-on had become a sought-after woman since her father took control after Selwyn died.

“Pansy, you look well.”

Draco hid the frown when she invited herself to take a seat. He didn’t feel like playing any games, and he especially didn’t want to be seen next to a Parkinson until his suspicions about Hermione were settled.

“Where’s Astoria? She used to love coming to these parties.”

Draco ignored the barely-hidden envy and said, “I didn’t want her to strain herself. She shouldn’t be moving about this far into the pregnancy.”

Pansy stayed silent for a few seconds. “You’re happy with her then?”

“Pansy, she’s about to be the mother of my child. Yes, I’m happy with her.” Draco couldn’t have said that more dryly but immediately regretted it when he saw the pain flash on Pansy’s face.

She nodded briskly and stood up, “I’m glad. Have a good night, Mr. Malfoy.”

And that regret disappeared. Pansy still had the same poisonous tongue he remembered. The lordship that House Malfoy had vanished along with the wealth. Draco had contemplated warning her about his suspicions of Hermione but eventually decided to keep quiet.

It was one of the few helpful things he learned from his father. People without influence should forget about sticking their noses in matters above their heads. Or they’d conveniently disappear.

“Apologies, everyone! I have to interrupt the merrymaking to say a few words!”

It felt like Parkinson was speaking right in front of him, a common spell used at these parties when needing the attention of the whole room.

“We have a few newcomers that I have great hopes in! Please give Lord Quartz Oleander and Lady Ophelia Crow a warm welcome!”

Draco clapped along with everyone else in the hall at the two unremarkable people standing next to Parkinson. From what he could remember, Oleander and Crow weren’t true noble families, so they must have been elevated by Parkinson to occupy a couple empty seats. Draco had a feeling the old Malfoy seat was one of them.

“And in an unexpected surprise, the lovely Ms. Granger is here to celebrate with us!”

All the eyes in the hall shifted to the pretty brunette sipping from her wine glass before she gave them a polite smile.

“Ms. Granger! We would be thrilled to have you say a few words.”

Draco watched Hermione dab her lips with a napkin before sauntering to Parkinson. Her walk had a hypnotic effect on most in the hall, something Draco didn’t think the former bookworm would ever gain. Then again, he wasn’t sure if he paid all that much attention to her at Hogwarts. It was Harry that Draco was focused on, and Hermione had been a minor blip compared to the Potter.

“The first thing I want to say is that Harry, sorry, I mean Lord Potter sends his well wishes.”

A few people chuckled at Hermione calling Harry as Lord Potter when they knew she was involved intimately with him. Draco narrowed his eyes at how she was playing the crowd effortlessly. Hermione was never the best at speaking to a large group of people, coming off as demanding and lecturing. Draco felt he had been absent for far too long with all the surprises he was being hit with.

“Lord Potter often speaks of how much he respects Lord Parkinson’s work ethic, even if they don’t agree on everything.” Hermione had a wry smile on her face at the end. “I’m sure anyone with Lord Parkinson’s recommendation would be a fine addition to the Wizengamot. I hope you both live up to his expectations.”

Hermione nodded at Parkinson and stepped back, taking herself out of the spotlight. This time it wasn’t just Draco that was surprised at something Hermione did, but everyone gathered in the hall. It didn’t make much sense for her to be here in the first place, but the praise was over-the-top.

Parkinson cleared his throat, “I’d like to thank Ms. Granger for her kind words. Lord Potter and I ha— GRK.”

Draco raised his eyebrow when Parkinson choked on air, cutting off his self-congratulatory speech. His first reaction was to look at Hermione, but she looked as confused as anyone else in the hall.

When Parkinson dropped to his knees, the panic set in.

“Father!”

Pansy screamed in fear as she rushed up to him. The few mediwizards in the audience stepped up to see what was wrong, but before they could cast a diagnostic spell, Lord Parkinson started screaming in pain.

With bloodshot eyes and a crazed look, Parkinson started clawing at his own arm, trying to take something only he could see off his body. He only succeeded in ripping up his nails and scratching deep grooves into his skin.

“Restrain him! He must be hallucinating!”

Parkinson’s arms and legs snapped together in a rigid state as the healers tried to keep him from harming himself.

“IT’S YOU!”

Tears of blood were dripping down his face as Parkinson roared.

“HOW ARE YOU ALIVE!”

After two coherent sentences, Parkinson went back to screaming bloody murder. But that didn’t last long.

Draco was shocked to see something that could match Voldemort’s brutality long after his death. It was like the man was under a cruciatus, but that wasn’t possible since the caster would have already been discovered. When the healers failed to find anything wrong with Parkinson, Draco decided it was time to leave.

“NO!”

Parkinson made one shout in a desperate call for help before his body turned bright red. The audience watched in horrified fascination when Lord Parkinson exploded and the blood congealed into a grotesque version of the Dark Mark.

“… Merlin save us.”

Draco stiffened at the far too familiar sight as the screams started around him. The proud magicals started acting like animals to escape the wards and apparate as far away as possible. Draco stood in place as his eyes caught a curious sight.

Hermione seemed as terrified as any of the others, but it looked as if she was putting on an act. Draco wasn’t sure why he thought that since he didn’t know her mannerisms too well, but when Hermione glanced at him as she rushed by, he felt like she was more euphoric than anything.

Draco shuddered and swiftly followed the crowd. The world had changed too much if the golden girl was this terrifying. Maybe it’d be best to be low-key until Potter and his woman were finished with whatever they were planning.

“Outrageous! Our peer had his life taken by a mere sympathizer of the Dark Lord! How dare you suggest that You-Know-Who was coming back!”

Harry struggled to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Even now, they refuse to say his name out of fear.

“And what do you suggest about Lord Parkinson’s last words? He was clearly claiming that someone was back from the dead. Unless immortality is no longer a secret, the Dark Lord is the only one with this ability.”

Avery puffed up in anger, “He was hallucinating! Anyone could have told you the same. Lord Potter! Ms. Granger was there. What’s her opinion?”

Harry made it look like he was thinking about what to answer. He said with feigned reluctance, “I have seen her memory… and it’s disturbing. However, Voldemort is unlikely to do something so public when he has such little power. While I think we must be cautious, jumping to extreme conclusions can do more harm than good.”

Harry mentally patted himself on the back for such a convincing act. It wasn’t time yet to make a grab for power.

Avery didn’t think much of it and looked victoriously at the members clamoring for a comprehensive search. “I agree to the unspeakables adding more security wards, but like Lord Potter said, it isn’t time to invade the privacy of the members of this body.”

With Harry’s seeming concession, the clamor died down a bit until the session ended with nothing much done. The current Lord Avery had taken over after his father had been stripped of his titles. Harry had noticed that he was trying to take the lead after Parkinson had unfortunately exploded.

Poor man.

Harry slipped out of the chambers and avoided any well-wishers to get home as soon as possible. He had things to do that couldn’t be delayed.

After he apparated silently into his shared apartment with Hermione, Harry shrugged off his robes and let this fall to the floor before entering his bedroom. As expected, the woman that caused the recent chaos was sitting on the bed with a book open on her lap.

Harry unbuttoned the top of his shirt and said, “I’m sure you know this, Hermione, but you’re one scary witch.”

Hermione hummed in agreement but didn’t look up from whatever she was reading. Harry wasn’t bothered by this since he had always known her first love had been books. Besides, there was a way he could reliably get her attention.

Harry stood next to her and looked down at the diminutive woman that could topple the government if let loose. Her slight frame and good looks were a dangerous distraction from what she was capable of. Even Harry didn’t know how she had done that to Parkinson, and in all honesty, he had no desire to know. His stomach had turned when watching her memories of what happened at the party.

After Harry had settled his discomfort, he had imprinted the need to give Hermione detailed instructions in his mind. Parkinson had exploded in a shower of bloody gore because he had told Hermione that it needed to make a ‘statement.’ While Harry could see the benefit of what was done, he preferred to not use methods that would make Voldemort proud.

But first, he had a job to do.

“Hermione?”

Once again, all he got as a reply was a distracted hum. Harry stroked her wavy brunette hair for a few seconds before pulling on it tightly to make Hermione face up. She gasped at the shot of pain from the unexpected pull on her hair and quickly forgot about her book.

“I haven’t thanked you today.”

Hermione closed her eyes when Harry leaned down and captured her lips. He bit her bottom lip and sucked on it before pulling back, letting it scrape gently against his teeth before it left his mouth.

Harry picked up the book on her lap and lay it face down on the side table, saving the page Hermione was on so she wouldn’t bite his head off afterward. He climbed onto the bed and got in-between Hermione’s legs after parting them. The way Harry thanked Hermione was to eat her c*nt like it was the best dessert ever made. It wasn’t too far from what Harry honestly thought about it, so it wasn’t much of a hardship.

Moans filled the room after Harry vanished Hermione’s clothes. He made sure her moans didn’t stop until the love of his life was exhausted and satisfied.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Hermione knew she shouldn’t be doing this without Harry’s permission. Still, she felt it would be better to ask for forgiveness after the fact.

Since Parkinson met his end quite explosively, Harry kept her under a closer watch. It was nowhere near when he discovered what she did to Ron, but Hermione realized that her callous disregard for what she did to Parkinson might have spooked Harry.

That was why she decided to meet Malfoy without his knowledge. Besides, there was a good chance Harry might even agree with what she was doing.

“Granger… I didn’t expect this visit,” Draco eyed her warily, wondering who he insulted to deserve this. He had no proof that Hermione was responsible for what happened at that gathering, but Draco had learned to go with his gut instinct.

“Draco,” Hermione said with a smile, making Draco’s heart skip a beat in terror, “I have an offer for you. How about we talk inside?”

Draco didn’t want to let a woman with the aura of his late Aunt Bella into his home, but he wasn’t sure he had a choice. With visible reluctance, Draco stepped aside to let Hermione enter.

“It’s a little light on the decorations, isn’t it?” Hermione commented as she looked around the manor. It was a miracle that Draco had the Malfoy Manor still in his possession. Plus, it was restored after what happened to it during Voldemort’s return.

“Simplicity is sometimes the better choice,” Draco replied without missing a beat. He knew that Hermione was needling him about having to sell off most of the family’s possessions.

Hermione hummed in thought before deciding to move on, “I’ve noticed that you seemed to have been reformed in the past few years.”

Draco stayed silent as he led her to the sitting room. That was one way to say he had been sidelined by his old faction.

“Honestly, they’ve been a right headache for us these days. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to put up with when dealing with them.”

Draco could only nod, hoping Hermione would get to the point before Astoria realized she was here. The last thing he wanted was his pregnant wife to meet this woman.

“So I was thinking,” Hermione took the seat offered to her, “Wouldn’t it be great if someone sane took the lead. That’s when I thought of you, Draco.”

Those words should have been exciting, especially since Draco had reason to believe that the woman sitting in front of him had the power to make it happen. However, Draco learned, with a significant personal cost, that you never make deals with the devil.

And Hermione was very much a devil in his eyes.

“Granger,” Draco paused when Hermione gave him a look, “… Hermione, I don’t think I’m up to the task. Even though they might claim to be about blood purity, they care about gold the most. Which I have none of.”

“A small issue I can take care of,” Hermione waved off Draco’s excuse, “What I need to know is if you’re willing to be that sane man we desperately need. You will be rewarded greatly, Draco.”

Draco had to stop himself from quivering in fear at those words. That was the pitch the Dark Lord made to his followers before leeching them dry of any usefulness. And as if it couldn’t get any more terrifying, Astoria chose this moment to waddle into the room.

“Draco? I didn’t think we were expecting a guest,” Astoria had a hand on her swollen stomach when she saw Hermione, “Oh! Ms. Granger, what a surprise!”

Hermione had to admit that Draco had done well for himself with Astoria. She was certainly an upgrade over Pansy in looks, but more importantly, it seemed that they had actual feelings for each other. The latter was evident in how Draco jumped off the couch to support Astoria until she could sit down.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione made a deliberate pause, “Sorry, I think of Draco’s mother when I say that. Do you mind if I call you Astoria?”

“As long as I can call you Hermione,” Astoria replied brightly.

“Gladly! I really hate formalities after dealing with it all day,” Hermione laughed, “Hopefully, Draco will agree so he has to suffer with me.”

“Oh?” Astoria glanced at her husband curiously, “Agree with what?”

“I was hoping to get Draco to help us with a troublesome voting bloc. I understand why he’s hesitant, but they’re getting unruly.”

Astoria shifted uneasily in her seat, not wanting to say anything out of turn. One reason Malfoy Manor could stay in Draco’s hands was because of Astoria’s father. Since she had insisted on marrying Draco, her father didn’t want his youngest daughter to be homeless and gave them funds to secure the manor. But it came with conditions.

One of those conditions was that Draco couldn’t be active in the Wizengamot. Damien Greengrass had been too worried that the likes of Harry Potter would make his youngest daughter’s life miserable.

But Astoria knew her father had never thought that Harry Potter’s witch would personally ask Draco to get involved.

“This…” Astoria hesitated, “Could Draco think about it? I don’t want him to get too busy at this stage of my pregnancy.”

“Of course,” Hermione nodded, “I don’t mind if he takes a month or two to mull it over. When we get an answer, I want Draco to have no doubts.”

Astoria looked relieved but didn’t notice that Draco seemed visibly tense.

Hermione made some small talk for a few more minutes before having Draco send her off.

“You’re starting a lovely family, Draco,” Hermione said as she stepped out of the manor, “My offer will help you return to your previous standing. Think of the better life you’ll be giving your wife and child. Don’t make a mistake because of some ridiculous fears.”

“I won’t,” Draco replied before waiting for Hermione to leave the property. The second he saw her apparate, Draco shut the door and rubbed his brow. Maybe he looked too deep into what Hermione had said, but that last sentence almost sounded like a threat.

[Break]

“I completely understand, Lucas,” Harry said in commiseration, “It must be hard being one of the few level-headed members.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Harry,” Lucas Avery sighed as if the world was on his shoulders, “I want to make sure we won’t have the same panic I felt when the Dark Lord was in power, but some insist on it.”

That Harry very much doubted. He has it on good authority that Lucas Avery and his Death Eater uncle were getting swimmingly. But he didn’t reveal that to the rat that acted like they were on the same side.

“Well, you have my support on this. I’m glad a man like you is fighting for Lord Parkinson’s spot.”

Avery’s smile somehow grew wider at Harry’s words as he relaxed into his chair. “For the good of the people, of course.”

“Hmm,” Harry gave Avery a slight smile, “As it should be.”

Before the farce could be prolonged, Hermione burst into his office without warning.

“Harry! You won’t believe it!” Hermione was so focused on Harry that she didn’t notice Avery’s presence until Harry cleared his throat in warning.

“Oh!” Hermione’s broad smile dropped off her face as a more contained look replaced it, “Pardon me, Lord Avery.”

Just when Avery was about to greet her, Hermione rudely interrupted him, “Do you mind leaving us alone? Lord Potter and I need to speak privately.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione’s abruptness and hid his amusem*nt when Avery’s face turned red.

“… Of course,” Avery said with a stiff smile, “Thank you for your time, Harry.”

After Avery left, Hermione narrowed her eyes, “Since when did that pillock call you by name?”

“Since the pillock wanted to make nice and get my support,” Harry said with amusem*nt, “And honestly, I’d be happy if he didn’t muck up everything like Parkinson. If that requires me to act like his friend, then so be it.”

“Luckily, you won’t need to,” Hermione declared, “I found the man that can do the job.”

“Really?” Harry was doubtful, “And where exactly did you find him?”

“Malfoy Manor!”

“Draco Malfoy?” Harry blinked in surprise, “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“That has something to do with his agreement with Damien Greengrass, but I think you’ll be hearing a lot more of him soon.”

“Alright, Hermione,” Harry reclined in his chair, “You say Draco is the man for the job but did you forget what he did to us?”

How could Hermione forget? Draco had sold them out to Bellatrix, causing Harry to show his fangs for the first time and reducing the mad witch into a puddle of flesh.

But Hermione was sure Harry wasn’t talking about what she remembered the most.

“I know perfectly well what he did,” Hermione ran her hand over Harry’s tense shoulder, “And that’s why Draco is perfect.”

When Harry still seemed unconvinced, Hermione didn’t hesitate to climb on the cushioned chair and straddle his legs.

“He’s a coward, Harry,” Hermione whispered into his ear while pressing herself into his body, “Draco will be easy to control. Someone who can bring the Wizengamot in your palm without anyone knowing.”

Harry did like the thought of that. Taking forcible control of the Wizengamot, even if it was for the good of the people, would undoubtedly sour his reputation. And reputation was one of the reasons that even people like Avery tried to be polite to Harry. It was a significant source of unofficial power.

Plus, there was another reason that Harry was considering it.

“What about his wife? She was a Greengrass, was she not?” Harry’s hands gently rubbed Hermione’s smooth thighs, “How would she factor into this?”

“From the little we know about Damien Greengrass, I doubt Astoria holds much sway in anything,” Hermione said with a frown, “Then again, that man is mostly a mystery.”

Harry laughed, “Sounds almost like you admire him.”

“He’s hiding something, I know it,” Hermione had an uncharacteristic pout on her lips, “I’ll find what it is eventually.”

Harry couldn’t help but kiss that pout away, interrupting Hermione’s oncoming rant.

“MMPH!” Hermione’s voice was muffled by Harry’s kiss until she pulled away, “Priorities, Harry! We’re having a serious talk!”

“Fine, fine,” Harry let Hermione have her way, “I guess Draco wouldn’t be any worse than Avery. But I have to find a way to give the ferret some gold to control the rest of the pricks.”

When Hermione didn’t change her expression, Harry dryly asked, “And I assume you already have a plan for that?”

“Amnesty for most of Draco’s crimes. We can easily make up acts of bravery during the war and call for the reversal of the fines levied against the Malfoy Family,” Hermione said confidently, “Being who we are, there wouldn’t be too many questions asked, and even if there are, it’s a simple task to come up with fabricated memories or witnesses.”

“Well, it seems you have everything ready,” Harry commented, “It wouldn’t hurt to give this a try. Avery would be the only block here, even if minor.”

Harry swore he felt Hermione quiver in excitement, and he most certainly noticed the glint in her eyes. Quickly speaking to cut off Hermione’s thoughts, Harry ordered, “No. I want Avery alive and well to serve as backup.”

Harry had to resist laughing when Hermione started to pout again. When he kissed her while sliding his hands from Hermione’s thighs to her peach-shaped bum, she didn’t stop him from going further.

[Break]

“… and that is why I ask this chamber to reconsider the decisions made against Draco Malfoy.”

Harry gave the Wizengamot a nod before retaking his seat. Getting Malfoy back his wealth couldn’t be done just by a pretty speech, but this was the start. The next step would happen after a week when all the members had enough time to read his proposal.

Though there was a chance that this could fail due to the man Harry was trying to exonerate, it would be some surprise if it actually did.

Neville was a man who believed in justice, and with what Harry presented, the Longbottoms and the votes that were tied with them would approve. The fence sitters led by Greengrass would surely do the same since Draco was his son-in-law.

The only real question was the remaining votes. The one informally called the ‘Dark’ faction. Being that this was Draco Malfoy, they should approve this, but with all the in-fighting happening right now, it wasn’t a sure thing. Especially since anyone with a brain would realize that Draco getting back his wealth and lordship meant that House Malfoy would soon take back the leadership.

Luckily, Harry didn’t need them. Neville and Damien were enough when combined with the votes that Harry himself controlled.

“Harry,” Neville greeted as they left the chamber, “I didn’t think I’d ever feel gratitude for something Malfoy did.”

“I know,” Harry grimaced, not particularly liking that he had to trick a good friend, “Without Malfoy, Hermione and I might be lying dead in some unmarked grave. Even if Malfoy’s a massive prat, he did the right thing… the hard thing when it really mattered.”

Neville grunted in agreement, “It’ll be a clusterf*ck. Malfoy coming back. The Dark Faction is a proper mess right now, and he’ll whip them up into shape in no time. We’ll have to deal with their sh*te.”

And Harry hoped that really did happen. It’d be a boon to have Hermione slightly less murderous when there isn’t a nitwit trying to mess with her plans.

“What can we do?” Harry said with a shrug, “If I didn’t do this, it’d be just as bad when the Ministry was vilifying me.”

“I suppose so,” Neville said with a sigh, “Forget it. Hey, remember to come for dinner next week. Susan misses Hermione something fierce.”

“You mean Susan misses Hermione when she doesn’t have more work because of it?”

Neville met Harry’s smirk with his own and laughed before walking off with a wave.

Harry chuckled before he saw Hermione’s signature hair in the distance. As he walked toward his love, Harry marveled at how lucky Neville got with Susan. A witch with tremendous… assets would be the polite word. But not just that, Susan also came with the prestigious Bones name.

Harry would be jealous if he didn’t have a witch that was even more impressive.

“Hello, love,” Harry smiled as Hermione craned her neck for a kiss, “There were no problems. Just like you predicted.”

“Of course,” Hermione said with her nose turned up, “I’m rarely wrong, Harry.”

“Hmm,” Harry agreed and wrapped his arms around her slender waist, “And you know what. I think you deserve a reward for being right.”

Hermione grinned when she found that Harry had apparated them into their bedroom.