Once upon a time there was an evil witch. She was considered the strongest, most intelligent, sexiest, and most dangerous witch not just of her own time but throughout all of wizarding history. No witch or wizard could best her. No enemy could stand in her way.
"Bella what are you doing?"
But this witch had terrible luck. You see, this witch had a strong-willed, arrogant, snooty, nosy sister who refused to let her family, including this most fearsome witch, fall for a losing war that very well could have been won if some snobbish, annoying little sister had minded her own business.
"Bella?"
But no, the arrogant, meddlesome sister turned the tide of the war and saved a most tiresome, childish boy. Thus earning her and her son pardons for their actions in this noble war. This intrusive wicked witch of a sister, one who walked around with a stuffed unicorn named Stuffie, refused to allow the most evilest of witches into battle. This poor warrior witch instead was captured by her foe and made to go through "rehabilitation," a most sadistic practice.
"Bella in the name of Merlin are you doing at the computer?"
Making witches and wizards into feeble-minded, senseless dr-
"Don't take the board away from me, pet, I'm not done."
Holding the keyboard aloft, Hermione did nothing to hide her suspicion.
"I told you you weren't allowed to use the computer unsupervised. That's a rule you agreed to. There are rules Bellatrix."
"I was merely writing pet, sharing my wit to the masses. There's no harm in that." Bellatrix said innocently. "Look I have fans!" Bellatrix reasoned, pointing at a word "kudos" alongside a "2." "I have to write or my fans won't know how to function without me."
"One, stop calling me pet. Two. Rules." Hermione reiterated stubbornly. "Besides how in the world did you even figure out how to use..." Hermione glanced at the screen, "Archive of Our Own?"
Bellatrix raised her nose into the air, "Muggle web sights hold nothing to the intellect of a witch pet." Bellatrix said haughtily. "I requested an invitation which they put in that box you made for me."
"And why is your name DomWitch5982. Wait. How do you know my pin number Bellatrix, that's to my personal bank account?!" Hermione said furiously.
Bellatrix shrugged. "Needed it."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course Kingsley would assign you to me, of course he would."
Bellatrix reached for the keyboard with grabby hand motions. "Let me finish, the muse is with me."
"Fine fine, just stay out of the study, we're filming there."
"Yes yes, filming, study," Bellatrix tucked back into her magnum opus.
With a roll of her eyes, Hermione backed into the hall. At least she was using muggle technology.
It took Hermione ages to show Bellatrix there was nothing to fear from "the box" and that no it wasn't proof that muggles had stolen magic from wizards. And it took Hermione quite a long time to outfit Black Manor with electricity, let alone with Google Fiber. The wards she had to create! The explanations she had to give she had to give to that muggle fiber installer! All worth it though for her to have that connection to the muggle world
Hermione left the room and walked down a series of hallways before stopping in front of a set of large chestnut doors.
She took a deep breathe.
This was it, this was her personal project, her moment to prove to everyone her idea wasn't crazy, that it would help the wizarding world.
Finally approved by the Minister of Magic himself, a lot was on the line with this. This was a way to teach muggleborn children (and to some extent muggles) about magic. It had been a hard fight with the ministry given that she what she proposed toed the line of violating the Statute of Secrecy but her stubborness won out. Now she had a three month trial period to see if it was a success, a waste of time, or worse yet, the downfall of wizarding kind.
But it probably would not be the latter, Hermione had thought of everything.
It all began with babysitting Teddy. His favorite television show featured a talking blue dog, one that could blink things into existence. The show was strangely popular by all children, muggles and muggleborns alike.
Hermione always regretted she only learned about magic at the age of 11. She felt such a deep-seated fear she had to play catch-up that never really has gone away.
Sitting there, watching this dog blink, she realized there wasn't anything different between blinking and waving a wand. This show, designed for children could introduce them to aspects of the wizarding world all under the guise of an imaginary world. It would normalize the idea of wizardry to muggleborn children. It could even explain their bursts of accidental magic to them.
A lot was on the line in the next three-months.
Hermione centered herself before pushing the study doors open. A small film production studio greeted her. Cameras stood on the left, right and center of a chair with shelves of books as a backdrop.
A few people, those muggleborns that volunteered with the production, were checking lights, the boom mics and camera angles. Behind the cameras sat some chairs and a very special machine Hermione and the Department of Mysteries created specifically for her show. It would provide them with real time statistics on viewership. They couldn't wait for ratings to be announced weeks or months after the show aired. She needed those viewership statistics immediately to show the ministry her project was a success.
The show all depended upon Hermione and her ability to engross hundreds if not thousands of children into stories about a magical, mystical realm. This would work. She conducted a painstaking amount of research into what made a successful, engaging story and she was proud with her results. It was quite simple really, an hour of writing later produced a gripping tale.
What made her nervous was that it would be live. Each day would feature a live broadcast of a new show. They had no time for retakes or post-production, they needed immediate feedback.
But live or not, Hermione's faced worse demons than a camera lens. She could do this, this would work.
-
"This" was an epic failure.
Hermione's head hung low while the production crew walked by her, some patting her on the back, some with words of encouragement.
It should have worked! The Ministry had pulled strings and gotten the show to air after that blinking dog show. Viewership should have been sky high.
It was. Initially. Then the decline began. Slowly at first then quite rapidly. By the end they had one viewer, one and Hermione was pretty sure it was Andromeda showing her support.
She had to write better stories she thought determinedly. It was better stories that always attracted people's interest. Always.