Beauty From Pain

Chapter Five

With how often Hermione paced in her small, muggle flat it was a miracle there wasn't a permanent pale worn in the floor.

Her body vibrated with a restless energy she couldn't shake. Lunch that afternoon had been such a strange affair that she wasn't entirely sure it hadn't been a fever dream.

She, Ginny, and Luna had lunch with Pansy Parkinson. And not just lunch, but a civil and voluntary lunch. She was still reeling from how normal it had felt. After they had all gotten through the small talk and forced pleasantries, and Ginny's poorly veiled insults, the four women had gotten along surprisingly well.

Mutual hatred for a specific individual can really bring people together, she thought with bitter satisfaction.

There had been the obligatory murder plots of course and plans of clever disappearances, but once they had settled down to really plan how to bring Rita Skeeter to her knees a clear plan had begun to form between them. Hermione had been reluctant at first, battling with her morality and her need to just move past it all, but Parkinson had been almost too good at getting 

Hermione to focus on her anger and righteous indignation. It made her wary but also develop a begrudging admiration for Parkinson's ability to manipulate people into seeing things her way.

If she was being honest with herself, she was almost grateful for it. If Parkinson hadn't been there, Hermione would have very easily let her anger fizzle out into a dull throb in the back of her mind and gone home to bury herself under blankets until the whole thing was forgotten in light of the next big scandal.

But now?

Her anger burned in her chest. It had wrapped itself around her forgiving heart and held it captive. She had been lenient with Rita Skeeter in the past but no longer.

She paused in her pacing and allowed a small, wicked grin the creep onto her face.

The plan Parkinson had suggested was almost perfect. They had all agreed that retaliation from Hermione and her friends was expected, and they would have to be careful not to get themselves in trouble along with her. Unfortunately subtlety and cleverness were not the most prominent characteristics in their friend group, but that was why Parkinson had come to help. She had suggested they allow Rita Skeeter to ruin herself.

Hermione resumed her pacing.

Scheming was all well and good, but the most important part, the details of 'how', needed work. 

Ideally, they would find a way to expose Rita Skeeter without having to be directly involved, ultimately enabling the Wizarding World itself to ruin Skeeter and reduce her reputation to the dirt that it was. They wanted Skeeter's fall from grace to be painful and permanent, and the only way to do that would be for her audience to do it themselves.

Her large audience, Hermione noted. She was getting that feeling of being on the verge of realization. Her large audience that she had written horrible, publicly shaming pieces about. Was there anyone Rita Skeeter hadn't written horrible things about?

Hermione's pacing slowed until she stood before her window, gazing through the glass without really seeing what lay beyond. She chewed thoughtfully on her thumbnail and squinted. Perhaps that was exactly what they needed.

Rita Skeeter had been writing for the Daily Prophet long before she wrote such slander about Hermione and Harry. So much time, and so many articles. There must be a vast amount of victims that she had written about and ruined, and if Hermione could get in touch with them and convince them to come forward...

The Quibbler had gained plenty of traction over the last few years as well. When it had come to light that Luna's father was the editor, a true friend of Harry Potter, and that the Quibbler had been the only one to write the truth during the War, the Quibbler had swiftly become the number one source of news for wizarding families much to the chagrin of everyone at the Daily Prophet. It wouldn't take much for Luna to convince Xenophilius to write the truths about Rita Skeeter and her past transgressions.