The Marriage Law
Disclaimer: The full rights for Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling – good for her too!
Authors note: my own take on the marriage law.
Hermione was outnumbered.
In the kitchen at Grimauld Place stood all the Order of the Phoenix members with their wands drawn and aimed at her.
Weren't these people supposed to be her friends?
When the chips are down you really do know who your friends are. Her father had been right all along.
20 years old, Order member, apprentice to Minerva McGonagall, smartest witch of her age. Now she was being ordered to marry Severus Snape because of that inane Marriage Law.
They had to be kidding.
Even Molly Weasley had sided with Albus Dumbledore. Hermione was a commodity that had to stay within the Order and not fall into the hands of the enemy. For the good of the Order she had to make the ultimate sacrifice.
Ron Weasley, her childhood friend, smiled smugly at her as did his sister Ginevra. Finally she was being punished for not sticking with Ron through his many indiscretions. Women should know their place in the Wizard world. This was definitely a man's world, no place for a know-it-all young witch of Muggle birth.
Snape had seized her hand and shoved an ugly big ring on her left-hand finger. Ugly did not even begin to describe the cheap paste monstrosity. It screamed bad taste. He'd chanted an incantation that bound her to him, it was very one sided and sounded like a Latin ownership slave sales receipt.
If this was any indication of her rights as a free witch then she felt there was only one option available to her at this junction. The only person who tried to help her was Minerva and she had suddenly been sent away on a study assignment.
The Order had taken her wand, Voldemort had killed her parents and her cat and now these people wanted to take her womb as well. She had to make a stand, death would be preferable to slavery.
Backing up towards the fireplace she put her hand under her cloak and into the pouch she kept at her side for emergencies. This was a well-rehearsed movement that she'd only fantasized about in the past.
"Fuck you Snape" she spat venomously at the tall greasy haired man.
"Fuck the lot of you" her face swept over the astonished faces that had her backed against the fireplace.
Quickly she turned around and threw floo powder into the fireplace "The Burrow"
She stepped out of the kitchen fireplace at the Burrow.
Turning quickly she threw in another pinch of powder "Hogs Head Tavern."
The idea was to make a few ports of call to throw them off when they tried to follow her magical trail.
She stepped out at the Tavern, pulled her hood over her head for anonymity then flooed again "Charlie Weasley."
"Hello Charlie" she greeted the stocky red headed man. "I seek Sanctuary" she said the code.
"Right then Hermione" Charlie said grabbing her to kiss her cheek. He tried to pull off the ring but was unsuccessful. "Ugly piece of shit" he observed "Better get this thing off ASAP, it's probably got a tracking spell on it."
Hermione nodded her head also trying to pull the ring off. "Ta Charlie" being her only reply.
Charlie then stepped close to her intimately wrapping his arms around her body and apparated with a slight pop.
He kissed her cheek and dropped his arms "Moscow" he said and blew her a kiss before he shimmered and disappeared again.
Retrieving her spare homemade wand from the hidden pocket in her robes she transfigured her clothes into simple non-descript Muggle attire. Changing her hair and eye colour with a glamour she set off down the square towards Saint Basil's Cathedral.
It was 7pm Moscow time and very quiet as all the workers had gone home for the day. Maybe half a dozen tourists had braved the early winter chill to stare in wonder at The Kremlin and take digital photographs.
She slipped into the Cathedral, skirting up the left side of the pews she carefully observed the people at prayer not detecting anything out of the ordinary. Stopping outside the confessional Hermione waited her turn beside an old woman with a rosary clutched in her hands.
When she was called she entered the booth and sat down. "Father" she began.
"Yes my child" the reply came in heavily accented English.
"I seek sanctuary from a forced marriage"
10 minutes later she was sitting in the Priests office. He was trying to remove the ring from her finger though unsuccessfully.
"Is not hard for me to understand this Miss Mina" he said as he wriggled the ring about. "Same thing happen in our world, just ring easier to remove." He forced a smile at the girl.
She couldn't help a low chuckle that escaped her throat, a tear slipped down her cheek and she tried to sniff it back. "Thank you Father Michael."
An elderly local Wizard that the Padre trusted came that night to the convent and cast protection spells to hide Hermione's presence. He managed to get the ring off of her finger with some spells she couldn't understand. Russian was not a language she spoke nor understood.
The wizard waved the ring in front of her face and said something to her in Russian. She shook her head at him and shrugged her shoulders. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling trying to think of an English word to describe his meaning adequately.
"Darlk" he stuttered out uncertainly "Margics" he nodded at her "Ya?"
After a moment she repeated "Dark Magic". He smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"Mal" he said shaking the ring.
Mal she understood. It meant bad or evil in a number of languages. She then pointed at the ring and motioned to him to throw it out the window. He knitted his brow for a moment and watched her mimic stepping on the ring and throwing it away again before he nodded in understanding.
"Ya" was all he said. Rising up from his seat he smiled in a fatherly way at her and kissed her on the top of the head before leaving. This simple gesture reminded her of her grandfather and a tear rolled down her cheek at the memory of another place and time.
A silent nun came by a short while later with a nightgown, bowl of soup and some crusty bread. Hermione thanked her but received no reply.
She was not a praying person nor religious in any way, but she thanked the Cosmos for Father Michael and the European underground movement. The Father was a squib born into an influential pure blood family and like many others before him he joined the church. He was allowed to marry but had chosen not too and dedicated his life to saving the oppressed. People like Hermione Granger that are victims of an unjust society.
He tried to avoid the punch but his attacker was too quick and knew no mercy.
"Where is she?" Snape shouted as he punched Charlie again.
He screamed dementedly "I demand my property back, you hear me!" another punch.
He threw Charlie down in a bloody mess on the wooded floor of his cottage and kicked him hard in the stomach with his steel capped boot.
Blood foamed out of Charlie Weasley's mouth and he forced a smile up at his attacker before managing to say "She's safe from you arsehole!" Then he slipped into unconsciousness.
Snape continued to kick Charlie only stopping short of killing him. He then turned in circles maniacally in the small, too warm room.
"Where are you Bitch?" he screamed.
Finding Charlie's wand on the side table he forced it to reveal it's last spells. He guessed the red headed Wizard had covered his tracks with a number of inconsequential incantations. Throwing down the wand on its unconscious owner he cursed in frustration then stormed out into the Romanian snow.
He took out Hermione's wand from his pocket and held it aloft "Find her!" he commanded and felt the rush of portkey travel drag him into the night.
He landed in an alley with a heavy thump still clutching Hermione's wand. He walked out into the dark street to get his bearings but found himself in a completely foreign place where he recognised nothing.
Pointing the wand again he once again commanded it "Find her!"
Little did he know that Hermione had charmed her wand in anticipation of this very situation. Should anyone take it and try to perform more than one spell with it…
"Shit, fucking hell!" he cried out the oath as the wand burst into flames and seared his hand with a magical green fire.
The wand had disintegrated and he clutched at his wounded hand mumbling healing spells but not being able to stop the burning sensation nor heal the charred flesh. He fumbled with his wand in his left hand and tried to heal his right unsuccessfully. Desperately looking around he saw a puddle of muddy water and as his only option stuck his palm into it to try and soothe the raw pain.
The pain was not unlike a slicing hex but the throbbing was almost unbearable. Snape got his handkerchief out of his waistcoat pocket and bandaged his hand tying a knot and pulling it tight with his teeth.
More determined than ever to exact his revenge on the bushy haired bitch he invoked the tracking spell on the ring that he'd forced upon her. Standing in the square and turning in a circle his wand lit up with a red light like a small beacon when it pointed towards the ring. Perfect.
He walked the streets for an hour tracking the ring. Down cobbled paths and across small parks he finally found himself in a run down street that looked deserted. When the red light went out he started to point his wand up and down to get an exact bearing. Down it pointed, down into the grill that covered the stormwater drain on this miserable Muggle street.
Levitating the manhole cover in the road he climbed down into the murky underworld of the Moscow sewerage system. The smell was unbearably filthy like a ton of rotting garbage and shit. Snape felt himself retch and turned to vomit to the side. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and once again pointed his wand to find the ring. It didn't take long to find the discarded lump of destroyed metal sitting in a small alcove. Using his wand he blasted 2 large rats before putting it away and using his one good hand to pick up the remains of the ring.
Immediately he doubled over in pain and felt himself being dragged away. The elderly Russian Wizard had transformed the remains of the ring into a portkey and as Snape hurtled through space to places unknown he finally felt what it was like to be afraid.
Awaking in the early light of the morning from a fitful sleep Hermione transformed the jug and basin into a hipbath with steaming water. Casting a silencing charm she enjoyed the hot water and fragrant soap for a good hour preparing to start her new life clean and relaxed.
Clean and dry she put on the floor length black habit that had been left for her. The shoes were very utilitarian, as were the thick stockings. She wasn't very sure about the wimple but a quick swish of her wand had it securely in place. Hermione remembered her Grandmother saying once that 'God moved in a mysterious way' and dressed like this she felt that nuns attempted to emulate him.
She joined the other Sisters for breakfast and was then shown into the Manse to speak to Father Michael again. He complimented her on her attire before explaining the strategy for her escape. A number of safe houses had been set up for her to apparate to before reaching her final destination and assuming a new identity. She left promising to return the favour one-day and was thankful that some people could still be trusted in this world.
Two weeks later the safe but weary Nun waited at the train station in Prague to meet her connection. She had not been told whom she was meeting but was led to believe that he had sworn to protect her. Whilst Hermione was confident so far, having not met with any mishaps yet, she still felt wary. It would only take a quick snatch and grab and she'd be back in the dungeons at Hogwarts tied to a bed with the Greasy Bat defiling her. The longer she waited the more her uneasiness grew.
Many people smiled at her, but she was sure it was because she was dressed as a Nun. Europeans mostly respected the clergy and some people even stopped to offer her food. She accepted some fruit gracefully from a woman her own age and sat to eat it. Life on the run had been a most humbling experience and one Hermione had promised herself she would never forget.
An hour later she'd all but given up hope that her connection would come. Picking up her small suitcase she started to walk into the town to find a hotel for the night when a voice came from behind calling out to her.
"Sister, Sister please wait!" the thick accent called.
She stopped and turned to face the man that had called out to her.
"Yes?" she inquired as casually as she dared.
"Are you Sister Bridgette?" the man asked.
"Yes I am" Hermione replied.
"I bring you Sanctuary" he spoke the code words that she had longed to hear and knew would alert her that he was genuine.
Hermione laughed in relief "You don't know how pleased I am to hear that" she said offering her hand to shake.
He took her hand and shook it firmly between both of his much larger ones. At the finish of the greeting he took her suitcase "Please follow me to a safe apparition point." She followed eager to finish her journey and start a new life.
"Sister Bridgette I presume" the man asked.
Hermione immediately panicked. She knew that voice and although she found it hard to believe after her great adventure she realised she had been captured.
"Igor Karkaroff" she replied resignedly in a monotone.
"At your service Madam" he swept into a courtly bow.
Hermione was standing in the office of the Headmaster of Durmstrang School of Wizardry. Igor Karkaroff, Death Eater and friend of Severus Snape.
"So is this how it's going to end for me Headmaster, is this how I am to die?" she asked.
A frown furrowed Igor's brow, he genuinely looked confused. "I'm sorry Sister" he began "I do not understand?"
Hermione lifted her glamour removing her wimple in the process and recognition swept over his face. "Ah, so it's Miss Granger, the famous Hogwarts Witch" he laughed in amusement throwing his head back.
She didn't understand, why was he laughing like this. Surely he knew it was her.
He strode over to her and lifted her up off the floor in an embrace swirling her around like a child.
"Miss Granger, welcome to Durmstrang. I offer you Sanctuary" he said as he placed her back on her own two feet.
"You do, really?" she asked.
"Of course, anything to piss off Dumbledore and that cretin Snape. Do you know how much I hate that pair of idiots?"
She laughed at the way he said 'eediorts' like they were comic book villains. She offered him her hand "I trust you Igor, please help me."
"Of course Hermione, we must stick together on this. Yes?"
"Yes Igor, I believe we must."
Durmstrang was much colder than Hogwarts had ever been. Igor made sure Hermione was rugged up in a heavy winter cloak over her habit. He suggested she remain dressed as a Nun so as not to cast suspicion on herself while waiting for her final connection. She sat in to observe some classes until dinnertime then joined the teachers for a meal in the Durmstrang dining hall.
It was not as flashy as Hogwarts, and the students were all male. She was pleased that she had kept on the habit to make herself sexless when she was faced with the sea of testosterone that was eating dinner before her. Many glances were cast her way and some boys looked her up and down lasciviously before winking at her saucily.
Igor turned to Hermione and said "Just ignore them, they are boys and even as a Nun they see you as a young woman. You shall be safe here I promise you."
The only female teacher at the school was sitting beside Hermione and agreed with the Headmaster's assessment "You can stay in my room with me, very safe from boys and men." she assured her with a nod.
"Ya, Grunilde, no man would dare enter your chambers" Igor agreed with a smile. Said Grunilde gave him a withering glare and turned back to her meal.
"Thank you" Hermione whispered to the woman and sipped her goblet of mulled wine.
It was Saturday and Grunilde, who had proved herself a great companion, took Hermione shopping to the small Wizarding village near the school. Hermione was thankful she had taken Charlie's advice and put most of her savings into a Swiss Wizarding Bank after she left school. She had only kept a small amount of money in Gringott's and did not worry about its loss. She was able to charge her purchases directly to her Swiss account.
The village was quaint and covered in snow. Hermione kept expecting to see Santa Claus ride through the town in his sleigh. It was postcard perfect, icicles hanging from signs, caroling children and the occasional deer straying into the street.
Grunilde showed her to a shop that sold magical trinkets and Hermione bought a charmed bracelet that allowed the wearer to understand foreign languages. With time the wearer would eventually be able to speak the languages even without the benefit of the bracelet. It was perfect, she thanked the shop owner profusely in Bulgarian. Her companion clapped in delight and they then went for a coffee to enjoy the day somewhere warmer.
Although Hermione was not at liberty to tell her story to Grunilde, she was still able to discuss work and the future with the Transfiguration professor. It was a pity she couldn't stay here indefinitely as Grunilde said she would love an apprentice of her advanced skill level to help her out with the teaching. Minerva was mentioned in the discussion and Grunilde understood that it would be wise not to ask any questions. Still their lives had been enriched even for this short time that they had known each other and, Hermione mused, that was what life was all about.
The days at Durmstrang turned into weeks and finally into 6 months and Hermione became one of the staff until the end of term. After being on the run for 9 months now she was finally feeling more secure. Igor found out from his contacts that she had been listed as missing presumed dead at the British Ministry of Magic. He also reported that Snape had been declared missing presumed dead as well. Telling her this gave Igor great personal pleasure and the leaving feast at Durmstrang rang out with joyful abandon that year.
She was standing alone observing the students at the leaving feast. A subdued ball had been organised and sister's, girlfriends and cousins had all been invited as companions for the boys. It was all very polite and quite reminiscent of a Regency coming out ball.
Instead of her usual habit Hermione was wearing a simple black frock with a rosary attached to her belt. All the boys knew she was off limits but still they looked at the young woman and admired her hair that was usually hidden by her veil. She danced with all the male teachers, young and old alike and was taking a breather with a drink when another voice interrupted her thoughts.
"You must be our newest Sister" the man declared.
Turning to address him she dropped her glass in shock. It seemed to fall in slow motion towards the hard floor before the man used his lightening reflexes to catch it.
"I am sorry Sister, I meant not to shock you" he said.
Hermione was staring at Viktor Krum. It had been years since they'd been together and he had grown somewhat older but was still, well, very much her Viktor.
"I am Viktor Krum" he offered her his hand. She simply stared at it, then looked up into his face.
"Yes, so you are" she replied evasively.
Something crossed over Viktor's face, perhaps it was something about her voice. Even though she had spoken in Bulgarian he felt he knew her.
"Have we met before Sister. I feel there is something familiar about you?" he queried her.
Before she managed to answer Igor was at her side. He leant over and whispered into her ear so only she could hear "He will be sympathetic to your cause, it is safe to tell him if you wish."
She nodded at Igor and he patted her shoulder, smiled at Viktor shaking his hand then left them alone. Hermione didn't know what to do. She simply looked at Viktor, and then smiled at him taking his hand.
"Let's walk, shall we?" and he allowed himself to be led away to a quieter place.
As a temporary teacher she did not have her own chambers and still shared with Grunilde, so she took Viktor to the staff room. Not too personal, but quiet at the moment. When they entered Viktor seemed nervous like he was facing his confessor. He thought she was a Nun after all, and Viktor had been brought up to respect the clergy.
He stood quietly in the middle of the room. Like a small schoolboy he nervously looked around the staff room as Hermione checked that they were alone and cast silencing and locking charms at the door. This made Viktor extra nervous. This woman was certainly beautiful but for goodness sake, she was still a Nun.
Then she was standing in front of him. Looking directly into his eyes she said in English "I know a friend of yours from Hogwarts in Scotland."
He was surprised at her English spoken without an accent. She sounded like a native speaker. "Who do you know?"
"Do you remember Hermione?" she asked.
"Yes of course I remember Hermione Granger, smartest witch of Hogwarts, brilliant student, amazingly wild hair. How could I forget the little girl."
She nodded her head and licked her lips. So, she was just a little girl to him. Brilliant, but still just a little girl with wild hair.
He'd turned away from her so she couldn't see his face anymore. However she could hear the emotion as he began to speak again. "She was my first love, some days I think I would give my life for just one more kiss of those young lips. To see her smile, hear her brilliant plans. She was just too perfect for me" then he turned back to her "What news do you have?"
Hermione noticed that his eyes had grown misty with emotion. "They introduced a Marriage Law intended to enslave Muggle Born witches and force them to marry and have children with Pure Bloods."
"Yes, I have heard of this abomination" he replied.
"Hermione was being forced to marry Severus Snape, the Potions Master at Hogwarts."
Viktor's face grew dark and he barely contained his rage. "I have to save her, why didn't Igor tell me sooner. What can I do to help?"
"Igor tells me that she has disappeared and is presumed dead by the British authorities. If she stays in hiding for another 12 months then she is declared legally dead." Hermione explained.
"And, tell me, is she safe?" his hands had fallen limply to his side as he beseeched her for news of his lost friend.
"Yes, do you want to see her. Do you still care for her?" she asked in a quieter voice.
"We were children then, but I knew I loved her even though she was so young. Now I am a man, and she is a woman. I would like to know if she still cares for me as I feel I would like to know her again." He had trouble expressing this and his words were slow "I feel in my heart that she is still with me. Do you understand?" He finished.
Hermione could feel her heart race. He loved her, he still wanted her. She had to tell him, but would it be unfair to drag him into her dark and hidden life.
"She's here you know. Do you really want to see her again Viktor?"
"Yes" was his only reply.
He'd come closer and was within touching distance of her body. His eyes were looking into hers and his hands rose up and tentatively rested on her forearms. The warmth infused her being and she stepped into his embrace.
Viktor felt her arms go around his body and her warmth stirred emotions in him and memories he'd thought were long forgotten. She sighed as his lips grazed her neck before moving up to finally capture her lips. He was lost in the delights of her body and it was beautiful.
The glamour's faded from Hermione and she embraced Viktor heatedly. Feeling his lips on her neck she shuddered with desire and when he finally reached her lips she welcomed the kiss passionately returning it with all her being.
He pulled back and looked into her face. "It's really you" he said "I thought I'd lost you."
All she could do was smile at him and then he continued to kiss her with all the passion he had denied himself these past years. His memories of a young girl and now his arms around this vibrant woman infused and enriched his love and he promised himself to never let her go again.
Twelve months later a very happy Bridgette Krum applied for citizenship in Bulgaria. Her husband threw her into the air and caught her three times to welcome her to his country. A party was thrown in her honour at Durmstrang and she was offered a position as transfiguration apprentice and assistant to Grunilde Djovanic. Igor Karkaroff had a friend at the European Ministry of Magic recognise the new Mrs. Krum and she had papers issued to verify her identity.
The British Ministry of Magic declared Hermione Granger legally dead. Her assets passed to her friend Minerva McGonagall as per her willed instructions. Minerva received occasional postcards from Bulgaria with ink paw prints. She made plans to visit Grunilde at Durmstrang on her next Yule break.
Sergei became a field hand on a family farm 500 km from Moscow. A family friend of Father Michael had taken him in when the dark man was found wandering in a forest without his memory or identity papers. His right hand was permanently disfigured and he could only perform simple duties but he was quite adept at mixing simple farm chemicals together. He rarely spoke and although he didn't understand everything that was said to him in the regional Russian dialect he could follow simple orders quite well.
Genevra Weasley was permanently disfigured by a kitchen explosion at her home. Her husband, Harry Potter, took a mistress then sent his wife back to the Burrow with view to divorcing her.
Ron Weasley died of complications from a sexually transmitted disease acquired from a Hag streetwalker in Knockturn Alley.
Charlie Weasley was found by a local girl and nursed back to full health. They are now happily married and living a full life running the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary.