Centerfold

Hermione Granger was sitting in her office at the Ministry of Magic contemplating the changes in her life over the last two years.

Instead of returning to Hogwarts for her final year, Hermione and her two best friends had begun the task laid upon them by the late Albus Dumbledore. It had taken the three of them the better part of a year to complete. Their absence from Hogwarts had been kept as quiet as possible, and so the majority of the British wizarding world had assumed they were completing their studies. Only their friends and fellow Order members had even an inkling of what they were really up to.

The last Horcrux had been destroyed the day they should have graduated from Hogwarts. It was also the day that Lord Voldemort chose to attack the school, deciding the students and parents posed too tempting a target.

Hermione’s original decision to skip her final year had been difficult, and a compromise had been reached. Instead of stopping her education, she, Harry, and Ron worked with their professors in their almost non-existent free-time. This allowed them to take their NEWTs on time and graduate with the rest of their class.

Hermione had been thrilled with this option, although Ron and Harry had complained loudly. In the end, though, the boys had given in to her mother-henning and submitted to the exams with fairly good grace.

Voldemort’s attack on their graduation ceremony had not been anticipated, causing the casualty rate to be quite high.

The fight had enjoyed an incredibly dramatic ending, seeing the three best friends standing on the platform which had been raised to award diplomas, their backs together, and their wands out.

In the end, it had been Harry’s love for his friends and their love for him which had allowed the three teenagers to do what so many had thought impossible: kill Lord Voldemort once and for all.

The graduation celebration had quickly morphed into a victory celebration, even if the three heroes had felt there was little to celebrate.

As a fully qualified witch with outstanding NEWTs scores, Hermione had been inundated with job offers. She had decided early on that she wanted to go into potions research, and so had taken the offer with the Ministry’s research and development department, and was in training to become an Unspeakable.

That was how she had passed the last year.

Her thoughts were brought sharply back to the present with a loud knock on her office door.

“Come in,” she called.

In walked a man she had never seen before, although he looked vaguely familiar.

“Do I know you?” Hermione asked.

“No, Miss Granger, we have never met before. Although you may be acquainted with my cousin, seeing as he did go to school with you. He’s several years older, though, and was in a different House, so maybe not.”

“Well, then, what is your name, sir, and what can I do for you?”

“My name is David Flynt.”

“You don’t sound British.”

“I’m not. I’m an American with British relatives.”

“Ah. Well, then, Mr. Flynt, what can I do for you?”

“Well, Miss Granger, that is a long story, and one I’d rather not discuss here. Could we perhaps go to the coffee shop around the corner?”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. One did not survive confrontations with Voldemort without a healthy dose of suspicion. She also wondered about the name. She had a sneaking suspicion who the cousin was.

“I really have a lot to do this afternoon, and would prefer to stay here.”

“All right, then. I will try to be brief. As I said, I’m an American. My great-grandfather had an argument with his brother and left Britain for the States. There hasn’t been too much contact between the family branches since. At least, not until Voldemort’s return. At that time, I was contacted by my cousin and asked to take in his son, to protect him, if you will. My family in the States is quite prosperous, owning a publishing house of sorts.”

“This cousin wouldn’t happen to be Marcus Flint, would it?” Hermione asked, remembering how he had disappeared upon graduating and not been seen again until after Voldemort’s demise.

“I see you are as quick as rumors claim. Yes, Marcus is my cousin.”

Hermione nodded at this information, and Mr. Flynt took this as a sign to continue.

“Our publishing house publishes men’s magazines. Of the erotic variety. My brother, Larry, heads up the Muggle division, while I head up the wizarding branch. Our main wizarding magazine is Nimue’s Dungeon.”

Hermione felt her jaw dropping at this bit of news. Quickly, she suppressed her reaction and looked Mr. Flynt in the eyes. “I do not see what this has to do with me.”

“Miss Granger, each month the magazine has a special section of a famous witch. Next month is the anniversary of your defeat of Voldemort. The entire wizarding world loves you, and next month the fanfare about you will be astounding. We would love to have you as the June centerfold.”

“You want ME to pose STARKERS!?” Hermione shrieked.

“Ah, yes.”

“ME?”

“Of course. Why not?”

“In case no one has told you, I’m not that type of witch.”

“Miss Granger, I understand you’re surprised. But why don’t you let me explain for a minute before you make a decision.”

She nodded, although her eyes were narrowed dangerously.

“Miss Granger, as far as I can see, having you pose for us would be a win-win situation.”

“In what way?” Hermione ground out through clenched teeth.

“Posing for us would make you a very wealthy woman.”

“Again, I’m not that type of witch. I am perfectly happy with the lifestyle I currently have, thank you.”

“I’m sure you are, Miss Granger.” He thought for a minute, trying to remember all that he had heard about her. Then a new avenue of attack came to him. “But think of all the good you could do with the money. I know that you are a witch who is passionate about certain causes. How much more could you do if you could afford to quit your job and work on the full-time? Not to mention fund them?”

Hermione had spent enough time around both Dumbledore and assorted Slytherins not to recognize this attack for what it was. Even so, she did pause to consider what a significant amount of money would mean for the work she now did in her off hours.

“How much money are we talking about?” Hermione asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

Instead of talking aloud, Mr. Flynt passed her a contract. Reading it quickly, she felt her eyebrows rise.

“You can’t be serious?” she asked.

“Yes, quite serious.”

“Mr. Flynt, I don’t see how your company can stay afloat if you offer this kind of financial incentive to all your models.”

“I never said we offer this much to all of our models. We don’t. We feel that having you for next month’s issue would more than double our sales, especially with some proper advertising.”

“I see.”

“Miss Granger, if I may be so bold, I would like to point out that money is not the only thing in it for you.”

“If you are referring to fame, you needn’t bother. I am famous enough already.”

“That’s not what I was referring to at all. May I call you Hermione?”

Hermione looked at him carefully, trying to figure out why he wanted her on a first name basis. After a moment, she decided it didn’t matter. “Fine.”

“Hermione, I have known other young women like you. You are an attractive woman, but you hide it well. Further, all of your best friends are male. While some might think this was an advantage in winning one of the heroes’ hearts, I am well aware of the disadvantage it puts you at.”

He looked at her closely while he asked his next question. “Hermione, do your friends think of you as a girl?”

“Of course my friends know I’m a girl!”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if they thought of you as a girl. Or do they think of you as one of the guys? Do they treat you as a female? Or do they act surprised if you do something ‘girly’?”

Hermione thought about it for a minute. She remembered Ron’s reaction to Krum… or anyone else she showed a romantic interest in. For a while she had thought he was afraid to ask her out himself, but his relationship with Lavender had shown Hermione that he just didn’t think of her as dating material.

With a sigh, Hermione realized that Mr. Flynt was right.

“I hate to admit it, but you’re right. They treat me like a little sister.”

“Yes, they recognize you’re a girl, just not a girl in the category of potential dating material.”

“May I call you David?”

“Of course.”

“So then, David, how is posing nude going to change that? And really, why do you think I should want it to? I’m long over Ron and I was never interested in Harry.”

“Ron and Harry are not the only wizards out there, Hermione, nor are they the only ones who see you as an asexual being. I have often seen you referred to as ‘the brains of the trio’ or, less flatteringly as a ‘bookworm’. Once I, or rather, my staff, are done with you, you will be the most sought after witch in Britain, if not the entire wizarding world.”

Hermione sat, lost in thought, for several minutes. She had not been on a date with a wizard since Viktor Krum. The wizarding world was terribly old-fashioned. Invariably, wizards were either saw her as one of the guys because of her close relationships with Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys and Order members, or they were intimidated by her intelligence, being of the belief that witches should be attractive decorations and not real people. Overall, she preferred the first reaction. She had yet to meet a wizard who liked her brains and saw her as a female. Well, since Viktor.

That’s not to say she hadn’t gone on dates. She had. Just not with wizards. She had dated several Muggle men. But those relationships had all ended when she decided she couldn’t stand lying to her partner and had broken things off. For all that she was Muggle-born, Hermione was a witch and wanted to make her life in the wizarding world.

Hermione quickly processed the possibilities and re-read the contract. It was a very lucrative offer. Deciding that she had nothing to lose in this venture, she decided to be a Gryffindor and seize the moment.

“What the hell, I’ll do it.” And with that, she signed the contract.