Daddy Dearest - (No Update, Edit)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
*******************************

Chapter 77 ~ A Couple of First Contacts

The door to the holding cell clicked and swung open. Hermione looked up as an unsmiling Rita Skeeter entered. The door closed behind her.

"I heard you asked for me," Rita said to Hermione coldly.

Hermione knew at once Rita had not forgiven her for the "beetle in the glass jar" incident nor for forcing her to write an article about Harry Potter under duress. This might not be easy.

"Sit down, Rita," Hermione said, moving over on the cot. Rita's eyes swept over the witch, then she sat down, clutching her crocodile purse close to her.

"Yes, I did ask for you, Rita. I want you to be my only contact to the wizarding world," Hermione said persuasively, "You will be the only reporter I'll talk to…exclusive interviews just for your use. You've heard what's happened, I imagine."

Rita looked at her.

"Yeah, I did. Blew up your office. Had a little temper tantrum eh?" Rita asked her, her fingers twitching on her bag.

"Yes I did. But I was driven to it, Rita, believe me. The DKV line is permeating the Ministry, though they won't admit it openly," the witch said.

Rita's ears perked up now. Some dirt on the DKV and the Ministry? This was what she had been hoping for just this morning. Hell, every morning for the past several years. She narrowed her eyes at Hermione.

"That sounds like something the public would be interested in," Rita said, "But why me, Hermione? We haven't been exactly close over the years…though I did spend some time in your company…about two weeks worth of it if I remember correctly. As a beetle? In a glass jar?" Rita reminisced, frowning at Hermione.

"I was young, Rita and you were so nosey. I couldn't help it, I'm sorry," Hermione said, "but if you do this, you will be the most widely read reporter in the wizarding world. It is going to be big…sensationalized. Just the kind of thing you can stick your Quick-quotes quill into. Plus I have other information that's been quashed…information that comes from within Voldemort's ranks itself. Information against Voldemort. Of course the source must remain anonymous."

Rita's eyes glistened. Oh, how juicy would that be? The DKV's tarnished little despot knocked out of the running by her pen. Rita remembered the early stories about the Dark Lord. She'd seen the results of deatheater attacks and the bodies of the murdered. The reporter didn't believe for one minute the Order was behind it. Dumbledore was just too blasted good to operate that way. If that smarmy wizard were cut open, probably all that would come out would be some sticky and extremely sugary lemon-flavored goo. In Rita's opinion, the Order itself was too soft and should be out kicking ass rather than sitting back and making ineffectual plans. Hm. Maybe she could work in some jabs at the Order while she worked on the story…if she worked on it.

"No one would publish anything against the DKV," Rita responded.

Hermione looked at her.

"You know better than that, Rita. The Quibbler would publish everything you gave them. Luna Lovegood is a friend of mine and follows right in her father's footsteps," the witch said evenly. "And it still has a good circulation."

Rita knew this was true. She was just giving the witch an argument so she didn't seem too eager. Rita was well aware that she would have to champion Hermione to make the story really grab the public. Almost everyone gravitated to the sympathetic underdog. But there was something else. Something that had troubled Rita for years about Hermione. Something that the witch held over her head.

Rita looked at Hermione, her eyes narrowed.

"If I do this, Hermione…there's a condition you have to meet first, right here and now," Rita said, adjusted her glasses as she looked at the witch.

"What is it?" Hermione inquired.

Rita pulled out her spare wand and cast a silencing spell over the holding cell. Since she was the Press, the Aurors never checked her bag. The witch turned back to Hermione.

"I want a wizarding oath that you will never reveal to anyone that I am an unregistered animagus," the reporter demanded.

"Done," Hermione agreed. She had almost forgotten that aspect of the nosey columnist. Obviously Rita hadn't. Hermione took the oath.

Rita felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her. She couldn't do Azkaban, and she wasn't willing to register such a useful talent. Now she felt safe. She opened her purse and took out her parchment and her Quick-quotes quill. The quill immediately positioned itself over the parchment, quivering slightly as if in anticipation.

Rita put on her most predatory smile.

"Now Hermione…let's hear your side of the story," she said, leaning forward…all ears.

*******************************

The next day, a large snowy owl flew through the thin air of a mountain range, a large parchment attached to its leg. It was cold, but the bird was well insulated and had been very well fed before being sent on its mission.

The owl belonged to one Simon Dewgooder, Severus' solicitor of many, many years. A stout, balding and quick-witted wizard, Simon handled all of the Potions Master's legal affairs with alacrity as well as directed the wizard to the best people for the job when he had other matters to take care of. Unfortunately, Simon wasn't a trial lawyer.

Severus arrived early and explained Hermione's situation and his willingness to provide payment for her legal counsel, but told Simon because of 'other affiliations' he could not do so publicly and needed him to contact the wizard he had in mind and persuade him to take up the witch's cause at whatever fee he wished for his services. When Severus told him who he had in mind, Simon stared at him in amazement.

"He hasn't handled a case in years, Severus," Simon said to the wizard.

"I think he may handle this one, Simon. It is the kind of case he gravitates to. You know he enjoys the limelight. He won't be able to resist returning to the public eye in such a grand and controversial manner," the Potions Master said, smirking a bit.

Simon considered this.

"You might be right," the solicitor said. "I will send him an owl with the necessary information and request for services. But he will be pricey, Severus."

"That doesn't matter. The witch is worth it to me, Simon. I've been sitting on galleons for years. Thanks to your advice as to whom I have investing it, I have far too much money anyway. I don't use it. Besides…"

Here Severus paused for just a moment.

"...she's the mother of my son. My son needs her," he said softly.

Simon nodded. But he couldn't help thinking that the Potions Master had gone decidedly soft in the past few years. First he wills everything to the witch and his son, now he is willing to empty his accounts for the woman. Simon suspected the wizard was in love with his child's mother. Considering his situation, that wasn't good. Simon was very well aware of Severus' dual role with the Dark Lord. He held all of the wizard's secrets, bound by an Oath of Service never to reveal them while he lived. He knew to love a muggle-born was a dangerous act by a deatheater. The wizard could die because of his feelings for the witch. But Severus had survived this long with his duplicities. Perhaps he could make it through.

Severus departed and Simon went to work on his presentation.

*********************************

The owl turned left and wheeled to a high ledge on a mountainside. A house was built there. The owl landed on the open patio and was immediately bathed in warmth. It hooted appreciatively before hopping toward the closed glass doors that led into the house. It passed a few leafy tropical plants, a lounge chair and a huge Jacuzzi. It stopped at the glass door and peered at it before beating against it with its wings, scratching at it with its talons and raising a racket.

"All right, all right, I'm coming," said a smooth male voice.

The glass door flew open and the owl looked up and stuck out its leg.

"Come in," the wizard said invitingly.

The owl hooted thanks and flew inside, landing on the back of a thick, leather armchair. It did its best not to dig in too deeply as it balanced itself.

"What do we have here? A parchment from a solicitor. Gods, they just keep trying, don't they owl?" the wizard said as he removed the parchment.

"Go along into the kitchen…fly straight ahead and turn right. Gertrude will fix you up with something to eat and drink while I answer this. She knows the drill."

The owl hooted gratefully and silently flew off in the manner of its kind.

A little shriek came from the kitchen. The wizard smiled and shook his head.

"You think she'd be used to that by now," he muttered, carrying the large envelope over to his desk and sitting down, opening it.

"First he pulled out a picture of Hermione. He studied it.

"Not bad. Hermione Granger, former Assistant Spells Department head for the MOM for the past eight years. Hm. A muggle-born. Single mother. Gained her position by in-house promotions. She must have been exemplary. All right," he said to himself, nodding.

Then he pulled out another picture, this one of Draco Malfoy. He didn't even have to read the information scrawled on the bottom of it.

"Voldemort's front man for the DKV. Oh yes, I know you Lord Malfoy. You keep your lips in a perpetual pucker for the Dark Lord's ass," the wizard muttered. "Trying to advance the organizations bigoted ideals using this young woman eh? You prick."

Then he pulled out a history of Hermione's work record from the Ministry. Not a single write-up or incident report. There were a number of evaluations, all quite favorable. Still, she was passed over for the position of Spells Department Head. No reason was given. Simon must have called in a favor or two and gotten hold of Hermione's record before it conveniently disappeared. It was the original and had the Ministry seal and hidden watermark. They must have left a duplicate in its place. Good.

The wizard nodded and looked back at Hermione's picture.

"Now, what kind of trouble did you get into, little lady?" he asked as he pulled out another sheet of paper. His gray eyes shifted left to right and his rather bushy eyebrows rose. He chuckled.

"Well…good for you. Good for you, witch," he mused. "I imagine those bastards in the DKV want to make an example of you, eh? An unstable muggle-born in a position of power. Those wankers could slither under a flubberworm's belly they go so low."

The wizard frowned slightly as he continued to read.

"So, you're to be arraigned tomorrow eh? Let's see what the payment terms are…I don't come cheap…but hell…this promises to be so controversial I might do it pro bono. What a comeback this will be."

He glanced over the conditions of retaining his services. Hm. Payment through a solicitor. That meant that the person paying for his services wished to remain anonymous. Ah, intrigue. He'd missed that. Nothing like a good mystery to make a sweet case sweeter. There was also a very generous incentive drafted up. He smiled when he read the amount. Quite generous. But then again, he was the best.

The wizard picked up Hermione's photograph and looked into her smiling face. She had lovely eyes. He leaned back in his expensive padded swivel chair and twirled the end of his mustache.

"Well, Miss Hermione Granger. It looks like you've got yourself a lawyer," he said to the picture.

He wandlessly retrieved his glass of pumpkin juice from an end table, took a sip and set it down. Then he leaned forward and began to draft his reply to Simon in the affirmative.

Severus would be quite pleased.

**************************
A/N: Who is this mysterious lawyer? Well, we'll find out, won't we? It's obvious he has no love of the DKV either. This is getting very interesting. My mind is going a hundred miles an hour here. The forces of good are gathering, and what an unlikely bunch they are proving to be. But it has to start somewhere, doesn't it? Anyway, please review this chapter.