IT'S ONLY PRETEND
The Initial Shock
Chapter One
Post-Hogwarts
Hermione Granger sat behind a large wooden desk piled high with papers, open books, rolled up bits of parchment, at least ten different quills, empty inkbottles, one empty cup of coffee and a picture in a silver frame of her, Harry and Ron taken last Christmas. She leaned her head against her hand in a moment of exhaustion and sighed. Her eyes instinctively closed. She'd been working too many long days as of late; she was living off strong coffee and cold meals.
The door to her office opened abruptly, slapping against the wall forcefully. She snapped her head up and tried to look as though she'd been doing anything but resting. Luckily, a quill was dangling lazily in her right hand.
"Yes?" she asked, feeling her heart slam against her ribs. She was looking up at her boss.
Norman Stone was a stout barrel-chested wizard with a balding head of thick brown hair. His mouth was almost always turned into a frown and thick lines of concentration creased across his forehead. He was much too serious for Hermione--and that was saying a lot. A cigar dangled dangerously from the corner of his mouth.
"Granger, were you sleeping?" he asked, eyeing her.
"No, sir. Absolutely not!" she said indignantly.
"Well, you need to get some. You look like hell," he replied and she rolled her eyes and muttered, thanks.
"What can I help you with?" she asked blandly.
He dropped a huge file on her desk. It thudded against the wood and a few sheets of parchment fluttered off her desk and to the floor. She eyed the enormous file and looked back up at her boss. "This," he said, pointing to the folder, "is your new assignment."
"But I haven't even completed the background information you requested for the unexplained disappearances of cauldrons from the Apothecary in Diagon Alley--" she began, looking exasperated. How would she ever see the inside of her flat for more than a couple of hours again?
"I've given that assignment to Carter."
"Carter?!" she asked, standing to her feet in protest. "But...Sir, Carter is an--"
"--Idiot. Yes, I know, but this assignment is more important. Sit down, Granger. I need my best journalist on this one, and that's you," he said, pointing at her as she sat back down.
"Okay," she sighed, "what is it?"
"I need you to go on location for this assignment, Granger. Do you think you can handle traveling?"
"Traveling, Sir?"
"Yes, believe it or not, but occasionally, witches and wizards take vacations and visit other places...other than the inside of their offices," he said sarcastically.
Yes, but that's because they don't have you for a boss, she thought bitterly. "Go on," she said, opening the folder and flipping through the pages.
"We believe that Morgan's Merchandising is merging with the Seville and Sons Corporation."
"But that's impossible," Hermione replied, "that would make them some sort of monopoly, and no one would want to buy Damien Seville's products. Everyone knows he's a crook, and so are his sons for that matter."
"But if no one knows about the merger then people won't know, will they?" he asked, leaning over and
looking at Hermione closely. She leaned back in her chair. "I'll need you to go down to Mexico and stay at the
Royal Magician's Palace--"
"--You're kidding! That's one of the finest resorts in the world--"
"--I know, Granger," he said impatiently. "Like I was saying, I need you to go down to Mexico, book a room at the Royal Magician's Palace. I've heard from a reliable source that the heads of these two companies will be vacationing there and discussing the details of the merger. So I need you there to mix and mingle with the moguls. Get to know them. Get them to tell you their secrets. Pretend you have lots of money. It will all be charged to the paper because if you can get this story--we'll have plenty of money when everyone is demanding the story for print!"
Hermione stared down at the folder and sighed. She looked up at her boss and smiled slowly. "I don't know what to say." I'm getting a vacation...to one of the most beautiful places in the world. I can't believe it.
"So, you'll do this?"
"Yes, of course," she said, unable to stop smiling. Her exhaustion was momentarily forgotten.
"Good. Don't screw this up, Granger. You'll be leaving in the morning," he replied before turning and walking away. When he reached the door he turned back around, "Oh, I almost forgot. You need to have a spouse to stay at the Royal Magician's Palace. It's for married couples only."
"What?!" she asked in shock, standing to her feet again. "I'm not married."
"Pretend, Granger," he said dryly. "Get yourself a pretend husband and take him with you. Don't you have a boyfriend?"
"Well..." she hesitated, "...no."
He threw his hands up in vexation. "What do you do all the time, Granger?"
"Work, Sir."
"Well, take...Potter. He's a strapping young man. Aren't you two close?"
"Yes, but--"
"--I don't care who you take, Granger. Just be prepared to leave in the morning," he interrupted and left her office, forgetting to close the door.
"But, Harry's my friend," she said, dropping down into her chair. Suddenly, she felt incredibly exhausted again.
She was finally offered a story that would take her to an amazing location and she had to pretend to be married? She thought of Ron. She certainly couldn't take him. His girlfriend would murder her. Then, there was always Harry. She'd talked with him last week and he hadn't mentioned dating anyone. Would he even agree to such an absurd thing? Surely, she could convince him that he would be able to take a wonderful vacation, and they were best friends. Wouldn't that make everything less awkward?
She grabbed her things, stood up and pushed her chair back. If she was supposed to leave in the morning, she had to talk to Harry soon. She didn't even want to think about what she would do if he said no. Would she drop down on her knees and beg him? She almost laughed at the idea.
With a swish of her wand, she Apparated out of her office and soon found herself standing on her doorstep. She unlocked the door, stepped inside and dropped her things onto a chair in the living room. She walked over to her hearth and reached her hand into the jar that held Floo powder.
She tossed it into the flames. Once she was on her knees, she called out Harry's address and put her head into the warm flames.
"Harry?" she called out, her head hovering strangely in his fireplace.
"Hermione, is that you?" he called from another room. "Where are you? Oh, there you are. What's up?" he asked, bending down near her face.
"Are you busy tonight?" she asked nervously.
"No. Ron and I were going to hang out with a few of the guys, but I can postpone it if you need something. Is everything okay?" he asked, noticing how tired and strained her face looked.
"If you don't mind, could you come over around seven tonight? There are a few things I want to talk with you about."
"Oh, sure. Is everything okay?" he asked again.
"Yeah," she said unconvincingly. "So, I'll see you in a few hours?"
"Okay."
"Bye Harry," she called and before he could reply, Hermione was gone.
He rocked back on his heels and frowned. Something was definitely wrong with Hermione, but he would find out soon enough.