A Skeeter

The Heiress

Chapter 3

By: fuchsiasteerpike

"Viktor, what a nice surprise!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms around the tall Bulgarian. Viktor returned the embrace stiffly, giving her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. When Hermione had a chance to get a good look at her old friend, she found his expression to be quite serious.

"I am sorry for your loss, Herm-own-ninny. I haff not come here for condolences though," he explained. His eyes went to the floor nervously, and Hermione saw Ron eye him suspiciously. He still did not get on with Viktor, despite the fact that he was long over the brief crush he had once had on Hermione.

"Did you run out of retirement money, Krum? Need to replenish your Gringotts account?" Ron nastily inquired.

"Ronald, really!" Hermione scolded him under her breath.

Viktor merely glared at Ron, and then turned his attention back to Hermione. "That Skeeter woman is on her vay vith a small army of gold-digging fools. I haff come to save you from them." He suddenly took her left hand into his right and dropped to one knee.

The trio gaped at him in astonishment, Hermione blushing furiously. "V-Viktor--," she stammered, but she was cut off when Viktor placed a reverent kiss on her hand.

"Please, do not doubt that I am serious. I haff no need for your money. I haff only need for your happiness and security."

"Oh, my," sighed Hermione.

"Wow," whispered Harry.

"Bloody hell!" swore Ron.

Viktor looked up at her beseechingly.

"But Viktor, we agreed that the two of us are not a match. We came to that decision ages ago," Hermione explained, pulling her hand from Viktor's gentle grasp.

He sighed at this, his eyes large and mournful. "Yes, ve did. But ve are fond of each other, yes?"

"Well, yes -- but with that reasoning, I may as well marry Harry, or even Ron!"

Ron glowered at her. "What do you mean, 'or even Ron'?" Ron asked, defensively.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know how idiotic the notion of me becoming Hermione Weasley would be! We'd kill each other outright."

Harry nodded in agreement. "You know she's right, mate."

Hermione nearly rolled her eyes again when Ron started to sulk, but Viktor took her hand once more in his and started to speak again.

"Vat about it, Herm-own-ninny? Vill you marry me?" he inquired.

Before Hermione could open her mouth to reply, pandemonium erupted on the household.

"The door was open!" a female voice announced. Four heads turned to the entrance in unison, only to have their eyes blinded by a flashing light. Once Hermione's eyes adjusted, she found herself squinting at none other than Rita Skeeter and a young man who was not her usual photographer.

Viktor quickly rose to his feet, throwing an arm around Hermione's shoulder protectively. "Call them off, Skeeter; I haff gotten here first," he informed her in a gruff voice.

"Bollocks!" Ron spat at Viktor.

"What the devil is wrong with everybody?" Hermione asked, throwing Viktor's arm off of her. She glared at Rita. "What are you doing in my home?"

"Hermione darling, I've only come here in hopes that I can help you in your search for true love." She pushed the young man with the camera forward. "This is my nephew, Peter."

Peter Skeeter was the exact male copy of his aunt. He was tall, wiry, and about twenty years of age, with a blond head full of corkscrew curls and bright blue eyes framed by tortoise-shell glasses. He appraised Hermione with a curious ghost of a smile before dropping on one knee. Ron's and Viktor's eyes both widened at this gesture.

"No, Hermione, don't let him propose!" Ron shouted. Hermione looked to Ron and Viktor with a bewildered expression, and they both looked mortified. She then turned and saw that Harry was just as confused as she was. A tug on her left hand brought her attention back to Peter.

"Marry me."

"Better yet, why don't you marry me, Granger?" a voice drawled from the entrance. Hermione's eyes flew to the door, where they beheld Draco Malfoy. Draco was then quickly pushed aside by a young man with a slightly rounded face, brown hair, and kind eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I got here as fast as I could! Gran told me about this, and I thought if you had to choose someone, best it would be a friend." He ran to her side and awkwardly dropped to one knee. "I think you ought to marry me to be safe."

Hermione felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. "N-Neville?"

But before Neville could respond further, a new suitor entered the room. He was suave and dark, with exotic eyes and designer robes. "You have a choice between a foreigner, a four-eyes, a ponce, and a stuttering moron. Why not choose a real man?"

Hermione furrowed her brow at the new intruder. "Blaise Zabini?"

He nodded and approached her with one of the most charming smiles she had ever seen. Out of thin air, he produced a thornless red rose and handed it to her. "Would you care to become Mrs. Blaise Zabini?"

Hermione took the rose with a trembling hand; it immediately fell from nerveless fingers as she fainted.

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"Hermione, open your eyes," Harry's gentle voice urged.

Hermione's eyelids fluttered open. She was lying on a chaise in the main room, and seven faces were peering down at her curiously. "I feel like Snow White," she groaned.

"You're not very pale at all, actually," Ron informed her.

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's remark. It was quite obvious that he was the only one who caught the Muggle reference.

"You fainted, Herm-own-ninny. If I had not caught you, you would haff been injured," Viktor explained, his expression dark.

Blaise grinned proudly. "I do have that affect on people. I get it from my mum, I reckon."

Draco scoffed at Blaise's remark. "You're batty if you think your charm made Granger go into a swooning fit. A proposal from a Malfoy is a very tough act to follow."

"Yeah, I think a proposal from a Snape would be about the only thing to top something that disgusting," Harry quipped.

Draco glared daggers at Harry. "And yet she hasn't said 'no', Potter, has she?"

"She hasn't said 'yes' either, Malfoy," Neville pointed out.

"To any of us," Peter added. The others shot him dirty looks.

"Sorry, but she doesn't even know you. I think you are disqualified by default," Draco sneered.

"Herm-own-ninny does not even like you," Viktor spat at Draco.

"Nobody likes you," said Ron, siding with Viktor for once.

"You're not even in the running, Weasel King," Blaise remarked.

The bickering continued for several minutes and would have lasted longer, if Hermione's patience had not chosen to run out completely.

"Stop it! I cannot and will not marry any of you!"

"If it were only that easy," Ron muttered.

Hermione shot him a worried look. "What do you mean?"

Rita Skeeter cleared her throat, drawing all the attention in the room to herself. "It's 'Penelope's Law', dear. You have to choose somebody or else."

"Or else, what?" Harry asked, giving her a dirty look.

Draco sighed impatiently. "Granger has multiple suitors who proposed to her in her own home. We are all magically bound here until she makes a decision. It's old magic."

"That is vat I tried to save you from," Viktor offered sadly.

"The same with me, Hermione. I just wasn't fast enough." Neville refused to even look at her.

Hermione then turned to Rita Skeeter, angrily. "You have not proposed, and therefore you are not bound to this place. I suggest you leave."

Rita smiled and reached out a hand to soothe Hermione's hair, but Hermione swatted it away ruthlessly. "Think of the story, Hermione darling. If I were to stay and record the progress of this little social experiment, we could make millions! 'Penelope's Law' has not been initiated for hundreds of years. Everyone will want to read about this! Think of the money--"

"Get out, or I will throw you out," Hermione growled through clenched teeth, her eyes blazing with hatred. This woman had intruded on her privacy, heedless of the fact that she was weary from the war and mourning the loss of several close friends. Rita was a hateful, stupid creature that had incited thoughtless young men to invoke an ancient marriage trap. Tears burned at Hermione's eyes as she realized she was seeing her life laid out before her, and that she was now left with the unhappy choice of two men she did not love, one she loathed, and two she did not even know.

Rita attempted to soothe her hair once more. "Please consider--"

This time, Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at the woman's neck. "Get. Out. You. Cow."

Rita complied, backing away to the door very slowly. "You will regret this, Hermione. Mark my words."

"Are you threatening her?" Harry asked. He too had his wand at the ready, as did Ron, Viktor, and Neville.

"No, not at all. I was referring to the money, of course!" She was at the thresh-hold of the front door and preparing to turn and go. Hermione raised a hand, imploring Rita to stop. "Have you had a change of heart, Hermione dear?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. I just wanted to inform you that from here on out, any beetle I find on the premises will be stepped on immediately. Do you understand?" She smirked when Rita fled the house in response.

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Once Rita Skeeter vacated the premises, an awkward silence descended on the household. Hermione looked at her suitors with a blank expression, and they all looked away uncomfortably. The atmosphere was suffocating her, so she stood up and said, "I am going for a walk. This house is quite large, so I expect that all of those here with thoughts of marriage will have found their rooms and will be out of my sight by the time I return."

No one spoke up in protest of her decision. It seemed as if the general consensus was that Hermione Granger was a terrifying force to reckon with.

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Once Hermione reached the path in the woods, she burst into angry tears. "Bugger!" She dropped to her knees and pounded her fists on the ground like a small child who had not gotten its way. "Damn, damn, damn!" She then hissed in pain as pebbles cut the skin on her hands. It was unfair, so completely unfair.

A rustling of leaves and the snapping of a twig alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone. "I said I wanted you out of my sight," Hermione said coldly.

"Begging your pardon, but you never said anything like that to me." A sweet, childish voice caused Hermione to look up. It was a child; a little girl to be exact.

Hermione stood up immediately, blushing with shame at her display. "I am so sorry! I thought you were -- well, never mind that." She studied the little girl before her, finding her to look oddly familiar. "Do I know your parents?"

The girl appeared to be at least eight years old. She was tall and quite skinny, with long black hair that was clumped with various tangles and snarls; sallow skin that was smeared with dirt, and a nose that was only slightly too big for her small, oval face. Her eyes were large, grey, and framed by long, thick lashes; an oddity, indeed.

The girl wiped her nose on her sleeve and shrugged. "Do you know Severus Snape?"

Hermione smiled at the girl. "He was one of my professors at school. Are you his niece?"

The girl shook her head. "No. I'm his daughter."

If Hermione had not just been proposed to by five different men at once, this news would have been the most shocking thing she had heard all day. However, it was a close second. After gaping at the girl like a fish for several moments, Hermione finally asked, "What is your name?"

The girl narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Justine, and it's not nice to stare."

End of chapter.

Author's note: I would like to thank amsev, who stops me from humiliating myself every time I submit a chapter. I would also like to take this time to address a menace: The comma. We need to stop the comma before it is too late; before it comes after your children, or your children's children! I bet the dreaded comma has reared its ugly head in this A/N, already.