This is a OS I wrote for the Wordsmiths and Betas OS-competition. The prompt was Marriage Law and I ran with it. It won the Best Stand-Alone One-Shot and was runner up for Humour. Very happy with such a result for my first try at their OS-competitions.
Special thanks to Colubrina who graciously allowed me to borrow the recalcitrant Nott house-elves from Rebuilding.
Beta-love to Ariel Riddle, any remaining mistakes are my own.
In the Eyes of the Law
"You want me to do what?"
Hermione stared at Kingsley Shacklebolt in horror. Kingsley didn't laugh.
"I want you to publicly support the new Marriage Law that will come into effect at the end of this month. You, of all people, Hermione, you must understand why we're doing this." He glanced at her arm, where the Mudblood scar stood out, pale letters on dark skin. She flinched and pulled her sleeve down to cover the slur.
"Over the last few years there has been a dramatic drop in magical births, partly because the generation that grew up with the War has been reluctant to settle down. The Wizengamot has decided to enforce a Marriage Law to encourage young witches and wizards to create families of their own and ensure the future of our people. And they want to do away with the distinction between Muggle-born, half-blood and pureblood at the same time. So they have decreed that purebloods must marry a half-blood or Muggle-born. That will do away with the notion of purebloods in one, a maximum of two generations! There will never again be a blood war, not when everyone's blood is mixed."
He glanced at the now covered scar again and let his words sink in. The fire in Hermione's eyes indicated that she wasn't done fighting yet.
"If you do not abide by this law, your wand will be snapped," Kingsley said, just as she drew a breath to start arguing against his points. Hermione's mouth dropped open.
"You are serious. You really are serious. This isn't some elaborate joke?"
Kingsley only shook his head.
Hermione sighed, her fingers stroking the wand in her robe pocket. "You realize I'm perfectly capable of surviving without magic," she said, eventually. "I grew up in the Muggle world. It's not that much of a threat to me. I will not…"
Kingsley quickly interrupted her. "But do you really think you can live without magic, knowing it exits, knowing you once had access to this magnificent well of power? Is not marriage a small price to pay? Besides, you and Ron have been together for so long, the public expects a marriage announcement any time. It would start off the new law under the best possible circumstances… A grand wedding between the two War Heroes… Yes, I can just see the Daily Prophet articles…"
Kingsley stared off into space and dreamed of the sorely needed good publicity it would bring the Ministry. Yes, a law like this and a big society wedding would definitely divert attention from more pressing matters, like budget cuts and mass unemployment and their failed attempts to curb inflation. His attention was called back to the witch in front of him when she shoved her chair backwards, its legs screeching on the floor.
"I am not supporting such a… such an atrocious infringement of my freedom. I'm going to do everything I can to stop it, you see if I don't." Sparks flew from Hermione's wild curls, which seemed to have doubled in size as she rose from her seat.
Kingsley shook his head again and tutted in dismay.
"You won't be able to stop it, Hermione, the vote has been cast. And Ron already agreed. He seems to understand that the Law only serves the greater good of Wizarding society."
Hermione let out a barked laugh.
"He only wants to shackle me into marriage and get me back into his bed. If you think I'm ever marrying that prat after what he's done, you're off your rocker. I'll sooner let you snap my wand than letting him touch me again."
She blasted the door open with a wave of her hand and stomped out. She turned around in the doorway, her wand trained on the man she had once considered a friend.
"I can't believe this is what you've come to, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Our generation didn't fight an adult's War only to be treated like cattle. Haven't we sacrificed enough? You're a disgrace to the post of Minister for Magic. Expect my resignation letter later today."
Harry Potter looked up in surprise when his door was slammed open and a furious Hermione Granger entered his office.
"Did you know about this Marriage Law malarkey?" she demanded.
Harry blinked in confusion and turned towards the other desk in his office, where Ron was trying to hide behind stacks of paperwork.
"What are you talking about, Hermione? What Marriage Law?"
"Shacklebolt called me to his office today to tell me it was my civic duty as a good employee of the Ministry to support the forthcoming Marriage Law that would force all single and childless witches and wizards under the age of 45 to get married and produce offspring to repopulate the wizarding world. And to eradicate blood prejudice, purebloods have to choose among half-bloods and Muggle-borns. Can you believe it?"
Harry rose from his seat and walked around his desk.
"Fuck Merlin," he said, leaning against his desk, arms crossed. "Did you know about this, Ron?"
He turned towards his friend, who had grabbed his wand and was cautiously straightening up. He was too slow to counter the silencing hex Hermione shot his way, though.
"That little tosser," Hermione seethed, her wand still pointing at him," has already agreed to be the poster boy for the new law. In fact, he agreed to marry me in a big public wedding for the sake of the Ministry."
Harry couldn't help laughing.
"Seriously? Did you really think that was going to work?"
Ron had turned bright red and tried to say something but no sound came out of his mouth.
Harry shook his head and watched with avid interest to see what Hermione would do next.
"You're such an idiot, Ronald Weasley, to think I would take you back after all the times you cheated on me, just to comply with some silly law! I'd marry Malfoy before I'd ever consider marrying you."
"Hey!" Harry glared at her, but Hermione only waved her hand dismissively.
"You know I don't mean anything by it, Harry. I like the prat well enough now, as long as you keep him on a tight leash." She turned back to Ron, still furious. "Get it into that thick skull of yours. I know you're not stupid so you should be able to understand. It. Is. Not. Going. To. Happen."
Ron made to move towards her, all puppy eyes and begging face, and she hit him with the Bat-bogey Hex, which made him flee towards the Ministry infirmary, bats flying from his nose at every breath, leaving surprised laughter in his wake.
Hermione and Harry watched him go in silence. When the laughter in the hallways had died down, Harry closed the door with a wave of his wand. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, making it stand up in tufts left and right.
"So, this marriage law thing. You're serious? They'll force us to get married and have kids?"
Hermione nodded.
"But what about Draco and me?" Harry asked, his gaze straying towards the picture of a cockily grinning Draco Malfoy on his desk.
Hermione blinked and tilted her head to the side. She, too, looked at the picture of Draco Malfoy and then shrugged.
"I have no idea. I was so outraged by the suggestion that I should marry Ron that I forgot about same-sex couples. I need to find a copy of this Law to figure out what it really says. Dinner tonight? Make sure Draco doesn't escape. We'll need all the help we can get to end this thing before it gains traction. I can't believe this is about eradicating blood prejudice or increasing birth rates. Those old codgers in the Wizengamot are abusing their power just to get more grandchildren, you mark my words." She drew herself up to her full height and lifted her chin in the air defiantly. "I am more than some womb waiting to be impregnated."
She turned on her heel and stormed out again, heading towards the office of the Keeper of Records to find the documents she'd need.
"I thought you wanted children," Harry yelled after her. She flicked her finger at him as she hurried away.
Harry slumped on his desk, cradling the picture of his partner in his hands. They'd faced so much adversity when they first got together, they'd been through so much already. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Draco now. There really was only one thing to do.
"It's bad," Hermione said as she stepped out of the Floo and quickly vanquished the soot from her clothes. Draco looked up from his book, his finger on the line he'd just read. Hermione hated it when people did that. Mostly because she did it herself whenever she wanted people to hurry up and just leave her to read.
"Potter's in the kitchen," he said, his eyes already travelling back to the page. "Go on through."
"Come on, Malfoy, you need to hear this. The Ministry has fucked us over well and good this time," Hermione said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of his comfortable chair.
"Can't be worse than when they let Fudge proclaim that Mouldie Voldie hadn't returned to ruin our lives," Draco grumbled, but he let Hermione pull him towards the kitchen. When she plonked her little beaded bag on the table with a resounding thud, he knew he was in for a long evening.
"So? Did you find anything?" Harry asked after the usual greetings and a slightly awkward and clumsy hug during which the knife he was holding just about managed not to get caught in Hermione's hair. He turned back to his chopping board without waiting for the answer. He knew Hermione would talk at his back anyway.
"It's really, really bad," Hermione said as she settled herself on her favourite chair and pulled a colour-coded stack of notes from her bag. And a quill. And a roll of fresh parchment. And a fresh loaf of bread from their favourite French bakery. Draco always marvelled at the things women kept in their purses.
"The Law clearly states that the matches should be between couples of the opposite sex, that they are required to produce children within three years of their marriage or it will automatically be annulled and people will be reassigned a new partner, and purebloods must marry either a half-blood or a Muggleborn. They are prohibited from marrying other purebloods. I searched all afternoon, and I just can't find a loophole in any of the stipulations."
She sighed and crossed her arms with a petulant pout.
"Can I have a look?" Draco asked. He caught the stack of parchment she levitated over to him and was soon engrossed in reading.
"It's so unfair! We've already had to give up our childhood fighting a War the adults should have taken care of, and now they're taking away our adult life choices as well! And they're not even taking in account people's sexuality! I mean, that's so homophobic. I thought same-sex relationships were quite accepted in Wizarding society, but apparently it's more important to create more magical children than it is to have happy adults. I mean, what are you and Draco going to do when you're both forced to pair up with a woman?"
Draco shuddered at the very thought.
"You did offer to marry Malfoy," Harry said over his shoulder as he tossed the carrots in the stir-fry. "After all, he is quite fit… I can attest to that!"
"I was joking!" Hermione exclaimed, her cheeks pink from embarrassment. One drunken confession that Draco Malfoy was indeed quite fit - although her exact words had been a little more explicit than that - and if only he wasn't so utterly and completely gay, and less of a prat, she'd totally do him, and Harry never let her forget it.
"It's too late anyway," Draco said after shaking his head with a pinched expression.
"What do you mean, too late?"
Draco held out his hand and wiggled his ring finger. A simple platinum band glinted in the firelight.
"You got married? But what about Harry?"
Harry changed the spatula he was stirring with to his other hand and showed his own platinum band over his shoulder.
"You got married? To each other? Without me?" Hermione's voice rose in pitch with every word, until it was so shrill both men had to clamp their hands over their ears.
"We'd been talking about it already. And you know it's possible for two men to get married in the Muggle world. So we got our paperwork sorted, I pulled a few strings with the people who owed me favours and we got married at the Registry Office this afternoon. You know Muggle civil marriages are recognised in the Wizarding world," Harry said.
Hermione stared at both of them, mouth gaping.
"I think we finally broke her," Draco said, grinning.
"She is awfully quiet," Harry agreed. "Put the plates out, will you, Husband? The food's just about ready."
"Of course, Husband, dearest."
The men smiled at each other with a tenderness in their eyes and a softening of their features that made Hermione's heart clench painfully. She averted her eyes, feeling as though she was intruding on something too intimate to witness. And she'd know, since she'd walked into the two of them shagging more than once.
"You were right, Granger," Draco said to her as he served the food. "The wording of the law is watertight. I don't think there's anything you can do to stop this, unless you can get all the under 45's to rebel. But you won't. Some people will use this as the impetus to get their partner to propose, others won't care that much. Some may even be happy that the Ministry will choose a partner for them and that they will finally get to have that family they always dreamed about. A fair amount of people will be outraged, of course, but many purebloods won't openly oppose the Ministry for fear of retaliation. Or being condemned as blood purists."
"Are you saying I should just accept that this is going to happen?" Hermione asked, her eyes flashing dangerously and her hair crackling with magic.
Draco shrugged. "No, of course not. But I suggest you find a creative way around it, like we did. Why should you be the one taking on the task to fight the Ministry on this? It's not like you're the only one affected by it."
Hermione glared at him. "That's easy for you to say, now you're married and safe."
Draco smirked and glanced affectionately at Harry, who had decided not to get involved in the discussion.
"So you're not going to help?" Hermione asked with a disappointed scowl.
Harry reached over the table to grab her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Of course we'll help you. I want to see you happy, Hermione."
She smiled at him and some of the tension in her shoulders disappeared. She knew she could count on Harry. He'd always be by her side, no matter what.
"Hey Hermione, have you heard the rumours? They say the Ministry is going to force us to get married and have kids! Surely that's not true?"
"I'm afraid it is, Neville."
"So what are you going to do about it?"
"I'm looking into the possibilities."
"Hermione! Have you heard? I might get Harry to marry me after all!"
"Whatever do you mean, Ginny?"
"With that new marriage law. Percy told me all about it. He says they made it specifically to make sure the Saviour would have children, and who else is he going to marry?"
"Who else indeed."
"Hermione, you have to find something to stop them! This can't be serious. You realise this is rape, right? Forcing someone to have sex?"
"You needn't try to convince me, Hannah. I know it's a horrible situation. But I don't know what to do!"
"But you're Hermione Granger! Surely you can find some solution so we don't have to do anything like this? Isn't there something you can find, some old law or a spell, in some obscure book or other? If anyone can find a way out of this, it's you!"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I've spent every waking hour of the past two weeks researching and I've come up with nothing."
"But you have to! You can't let this happen!"
"I'm trying…"
The Atrium was packed when Kingsley Shacklebolt took the stage to announce the new Marriage Law, to take effect immediately. People would have one month to register with a partner of their choice, after which the Ministry would start pairing people up.
Hermione stood, quietly fuming, in a dark corner near the Floo as she listened to the explanation. She saw several people glance at her expectantly, as if she'd just whip a solution out of her hat to make it all go away.
She was so, so tired of other people expecting her to clean up their messes. She had done her best, goddammit. She'd done the research, she'd petitioned the Wizengamot, she'd accosted the Honourable Members of the Wizengamot in the corridors and Diagon Alley and she had even followed one guy into a sleazy bar in Knockturn Alley. She'd quickly Disapparated when she realised she'd entered a sex club and struck Barnabus Clearwater off her list of contacts. She'd come up empty and she hated it. But that gratuitous assumption that she'd take up arms and save them all again was just too much. Draco's words from that dinner almost a month ago kept playing in her head. It's not like you're the only one who's affected. So now she was just tired of fighting, tired of being the heroine, tired, tired, tired. Let someone else organise the protests.
Her attention was called back to the stage when, to her utter horror, Ron stepped onto it, a huge bunch of flowers in one hand and a little ring box in the other. He rattled off some prepared speech about supporting the decision and Hermione could feel the dread settle in the pit of her stomach.
Ron chuckled at a lousy pun some speech writer had thought it funny enough to include and cleared his throat. "In fact, today is the perfect moment to take the next step myself. I feel I've waited too long to do this. There is a woman in my life I love more than any other, and I cannot imagine my life without her. She is the light of my life, the sunshine in my heart, the warm kitchen fire on a cold winter day. She is my everything. Hermione Granger, I love you. Will you marry me?"
Hermione watched as he dropped on one knee, holding out both the bouquet and the ring. A path seemed to clear as if by magic between herself and the stage, and everybody turned towards her with bated breath and excitement in their eyes to hear her response. She turned pale with fury.
"Ronald Weasley, you complete and utter arse! I've told you this before and I'm telling you again, I'm never, ever marrying you. Merlin's hairy balls, man, why won't you take 'no' for an answer?" She didn't even have to shout to be heard throughout the Atrium. Everybody stared at her in shocked silence. Ron recovered first.
"But, Hermione, you have to! Who else are you going to marry? It's not like you're getting any younger, and you're definitely not the easiest witch to live with. How much choice do you think you have? Come on, we'd be happy together, I know we would be, and…"
"Anyone! I'd marry anyone rather than you!" she yelled. Her eyes scanned the crowd and fell on Theodore Nott, a friend of Draco's she'd had some fairly pleasant conversations with in the past. He'd do. She walked up to him and poked him in the chest.
"You. You're not in a relationship, are you?" At Theodore Nott's hesitant shake of the head, Hermione nodded decisively and grabbed his hand.
"Good. Let's get married, then."
And before the eyes of hundreds of witches and wizards, the press and over a dozen photographers, she dragged a bewildered Theodore Nott behind her towards the lifts.
"What the fuck, Hermione? Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?" Ron shouted, making his way through the crowd to try and cut her off, his bouquet of flowers bumping into people left and right, leaving a trail of daisy petals and broken rose stems behind.
"Why, to the Registry Office, of course," Hermione answered in a singsong voice.
"Hermione! For Godric's sake! Let go of that snake and drop the dramatics. You're going to marry me, the wedding's all planned!"
Hermione pressed the lift button and waited for the doors to open, her foot tapping impatiently and loudly in the stunned silence of the Atrium. She still had one hand firmly around Theodore Nott's wrist.
"I'm not marrying you, Ronald Weasley. And you can't force me. If you thought you were going to manipulate me into accepting you with this grand public proposal, think again. Go find someone else for that wedding you planned," she said as the disembodied voice of the lift announced, "Ministry of Magic. The Atrium. Doors opening."
She stepped into the empty lift, dragging Theodore Nott with her, and turned to look at Ron with an angry glare.
"I'll never forgive you for this, you bastard," she said. She pressed the button for the fourth floor and waited while the voice announced that the doors were closing. Then they were jerked down and left and down and right and up again with the speed of a rollercoaster. She had to let go of Theodore to hold on to the side railing with both hands.
"Ministry of Magic. Fourth Floor. Keeper of Records. Registry Office."
Hermione and Theodore walked out of the lift and sat down stiffly in the empty waiting area. Everyone else was still in the Atrium.
"So, you want to marry me? Not quite the marriage proposal I dreamed of," Theodore said, a crooked smile on his face. "Or did you just want to annoy the Weasel and was I a convenient scapegoat?"
Hermione shook her head. "I'm not sure what I was thinking. But the more I consider the idea, the more I think we should get married."
Theodore regarded her curiously, but she didn't elaborate.
"Granger, you know I'm gay, right?" he said, after a long silence.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Theodore tugged on his short dark blond hair and sighed.
"It means I don't particularly like women. That is to say, I have nothing against them, but I don't find them attractive. This isn't going to work at all."
Hermione laughed mirthlessly. "You think they care? You think they care about happiness, or matching personalities, or even sexual preferences?" She shook her head. "Of course not, because if they did, this bloody law, enforcing monogamous heteronormativity and reproduction on people who may very well be inclined to neither, would never have been created in the first place." She paused, then continued, in a kinder voice, "The reason I think this could work is because we both don't want it. You're gay. Marrying a woman is the last thing on your agenda, yet you will be forced to do so. I don't want to get married at all. I never wanted a husband, I'm fine on my own. I've been thinking about children, that's true, but… well, I never considered it seriously. So, you see, this could be the perfect solution for both of us. It could be a marriage of convenience. Just to get the paperwork done. I don't need your money, I have enough of my own. Nobody ever said anything about being faithful or some such rot. You can see other people, have any relationships you want, and I can do the same. I think we can have a cordial relationship, cordial enough to raise any children in a not too dysfunctional environment. What do you say?"
Theodore stared off into the corridor. It made sense. In some weird and twisted way, it made sense.
"Children? I never thought I would have children. I'd made my peace with that, you know," he said softly. Hermione squeezed his hand in sympathy. Then he cleared his throat and shook himself out of his confused daze.
"We'll live at Nott Manor. There's enough space for both of us to live completely different lives and we might never even see each other unless we make an appointment for dinner. And I'm not getting rid of my house elves."
Hermione shrugged. "I certainly wasn't planning to spend my days cooking and cleaning that draughty old Manor for you. But if you mistreat them I will free them."
"Only idiots mistreat their house elves. And Nott Manor isn't draughty at all."
"We'll see. I'll need an office and a bedroom. We will have separate bedrooms, of course."
"My dear, I can give you a whole floor to yourself, library included. But what about…" Theodore motioned between them with a suddenly awkward look on his face. "Creating children?"
Hermione grinned. "Don't worry about that. We'll face that challenge when we're ready for it. I have some ideas."
Theodore slumped in his chair, crossing both his impossibly long legs and arms with the awkward grace of a baby deer.
"I can't believe I'm seriously considering this."
Hermione noticed the flickering of the little lamp announcing the lift was arriving and said, "You better consider it quickly, Nott, because I think we're about to get swamped."
He closed his eyes for a moment, let out a slow and heavy breath and then held out his hand. "It's a deal, then?"
Hermione shook his hand. "It's a deal," she confirmed.
"I'm marrying Hermione Granger," Theodore said in an awed voice. Then he started laughing hysterically, and Hermione, who looked at him in astonishment, couldn't help but join in. They leaned against each other in the throes of laughter, their whole bodies shaking and incapable of saying anything even remotely intelligible. That was how the paparazzi found them when the lift doors finally opened.
They'd filed the paperwork that day, arranged their pre-nup the next and got married within the week. Ironically that did make them the poster couple for the Ministry's new law, as they were the first to get married since it had been announced, which had made Kingsley's day. He might not get his society wedding, but two of his War Heroes had basically endorsed the law, either by proposing or by getting married, and it was the best possible publicity. That is, until the Nott family lawyer sued the Ministry for the unlawful use of the couple's names and faces and walked away with a hefty sum, pushing the Ministry even further in debt.
Hermione Granger-Nott moved into Nott Manor with an alacrity that surprised even her closest friends - but then the promise of a private library did have its charm. The house was a comfortable Georgian mansion situated in beautifully maintained gardens, not draughty at all, though she wasn't planning to admit that. The house elves were dressed in little black uniforms and made it perfectly clear to her that they wouldn't just take any orders from her, she was to eat with the Master in the dining room - they had better things to do than serve the same meal in two places - and unless she had allergies, she was to eat whatever they dished up.
Harry couldn't stop laughing when she told him about that awkward first evening as husband and wife, how they had gone through dinner and drinks with nothing but polite chit-chat and long, uncomfortable silences. But the house elves had insisted on celebrating the arrival of their new Mistress with a fourteen course dinner, and through fourteen courses they had to sit.
"I take it your first evening as a married woman was not quite as satisfying as my first evening as a married man, then?"
Hermione groaned in response.
"Poor Theodore," Harry said, with a glance towards his living room where their husbands had retreated after dinner, probably to discuss the exact same thing.
"It's just so weird to live in that great house, with house elves bossing me around and having dinner every evening with a man I hardly know, but who is legally my husband. Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking." She shook her head with a forlorn expression.
"You were thinking How can I annoy Ron the most and make sure I never have to marry him."
Hermione swatted at Harry when he started laughing again, but then joined in.
"That was pretty much it, actually," she admitted. "He really does bring out the worst in me."
Harry shrugged. "You know I love him dearly, Hermione, but I never understood what you could possibly see in him. I'm sure you and Theodore have much more in common."
"Oh yes," Hermione said airily. "We both like men."
Dinner with Harry and Draco was the highlight of every week - at least one dinner where she didn't need to mind her table manners for fear of getting rapped over the knuckles or poked in the back by snotty house elves who clearly felt she was unfit to take the role of Lady of the House and needed licking into shape. She spent most of her time in the Nott library, trying to ignore the fact that she really had to think of something to do with her life now that she'd resigned from the Ministry by burying herself into Ancient Runes and Magical Theory volumes she never thought she'd get access to.
About a month into their marriage, Hermione and Theodore were sitting down for a quiet lunch - they'd finally convinced the elves to serve them in the conservatory instead of the gloomy dining room - when Harry and Draco stumbled into the room unexpectedly. Their clothes were dishevelled and sooty from Floo travel and their faces pale and horrified.
Hermione jumped up and vanquished the soot with a swish of her wand before embracing a clearly shaken Harry.
"What's wrong? What happened?" she asked, looking at Draco.
"You didn't see the Prophet this morning?"
Hermione shook her head. Draco whipped out the newspaper and Theo, who had come up to them, snapped it open.
'DEATH EATER ENTRAPS GOLDEN BOY' the headline shouted at them, with a big picture of Draco and Harry leaving the Leaky Cauldron together. The article went on to explain how Draco Malfoy - convicted Death Eater - had lured their innocent, sweet Saviour into marriage to avoid the Marriage Law. He'd convinced the poor, gullible Harry Potter to get married in the Muggle world - a marriage that Wizarding laws were forced to recognise - to make sure the man would never again get out of his clutches.
Theodore read the article aloud and when he was finished, Hermione snorted.
"What a load of tripe," she said, gesturing at the paper. "But you knew it was going to come out sooner or later, Harry. What's got you so upset?"
"They've been sending Howlers and cursed letters to our home all morning. Harry was called into work and Shacklebolt gave him an earful for keeping our marriage under wraps and not showing enough loyalty to the Ministry, ending by asking if we could please annul our marriage as soon as possible and get settled with wife and children as was always expected of us." Draco paused, his grey eyes flashing with fury. The cutlery on the table trembled noisily until Harry turned away from Hermione and took Draco's hand in his to calm him.
"And then the mad crowd attacked us in the Ministry. Tried to curse us, we barely escaped to the nearest Floo. We managed to get home and then came straight here. Nott Manor is much better protected than our flat. We needed to get away."
"I'm so sorry," Hermione said. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need, of course. Did you have anything to eat? You can join us, we were just about to get started. Come on, let's sit down."
They sat down at the small table - quickly enlarged to accommodate four people instead of two - and the elves brought two more servings of lunch, grumbling and complaining how inconsiderate it was not to warn them that two guests were joining them, and if they wanted a second serving, they could come to the kitchen and make it themselves.
They grumbled even harder when Theodore requested Firewhiskey, an utterly plebeian habit, drinking Firewhiskey at lunch, but Harry still looked a little peaky and they relented grudgingly.
Several bottles of Firewhiskey, Elf-made wine and Goblin Brandy later, they had arranged themselves comfortably on sofas and squishy armchairs in one of the sitting rooms, with no recollection of how they'd gotten to that room in the first place, and Theodore and Hermione were the only two awake. Harry and Draco had snuggled together and passed out somewhere between the third bottle of Elf-made wine and the second bottle of brandy.
"Lightweights," Theodore said with a not very coordinated dismissive wave.
"Totally," Hermione agreed, wondering why the syllables rolled off her tongue so awkwardly. "But he has a cute arse."
"Which one?" Theodore asked, eyeing their friends.
Hermione tilted her head a little too far and slumped sideways against the armrest.
"Both, actually. But Malfoy 'specially. Susha shame he'sh gay," Hermione slurred after contemplating the answer.
Theodore smiled. "More shame he's taken."
"Snot really my type anyway." Hermione sighed dramatically and, after a failed attempt to sit upright again, made herself lie more comfortably in the chair, her legs dangling over one armrest and her head propped up against the other. She turned her gaze towards Theodore. Or one of the Theodores. How many guys did she marry again?
"Rich and handsome?" they said, all three of them together.
Hermione snorted and closed her eyes to make the room stop spinning. "More like a tall, skinny, blond git."
They were quiet for a while, until Hermione opened her eyes again and squinted at the entwined couple on the sofa.
"That arse though," she sighed. The Theodores laughed.
"Yours is quite nice, too," Hermione continued. "Might as well be married to eye candy, I s'pose. You're very nice eye candy, Theodore Nott."
Theodore laughed again and swaggered from his chair towards hers with a new bottle of brandy. He sat down on the floor and leaned his head on the opposite armrest from hers.
"Snot so bad being married to you," he said, offering her the bottle. She took a swig, coughed, and drank again.
"Could be so much worse," Hermione agreed. "Like Ronald Weasley."
"Or Ginny Weasley."
"Any Weasley, really. Though Charlie's quite fit."
"That the dragon tamer? Yeah, I remember him."
They both contemplated their slightly blurred memories of Charlie Weasley with his long hair in a ponytail and a tooth in his ear and leather everything sculpted onto his body and sighed in appreciation.
"I could do Charlie," Theodore said.
"We're married. You should share," Hermione said, swatting at him but missing by about a foot.
They caught each others' eye again and started giggling.
"This the way it's gonna be? If you bag a really cute one, you'll let me share in the fun as well?"
Hermione grinned. "Threesomes are fun. I'd be up for it."
"Might make the whole pregnancy thing a bit more app… apper... appletising," Theodore murmured, suddenly turning a little green, though whether from the thought of having sex with Hermione to comply with the procreation decree or from having had too much alcohol was unclear.
"Oh, my darling husband," Hermione said, dragging herself upright to pat him on the cheek, which she just about managed without poking his eye out. "You're so cute when you're repulsed by the idea of having sex with me. I'd almost feel insulted. I think you should make it up to me and take me travelling. I'm bored."
"You're bored because you have nothing to do," Theodore pointed out with a clarity that was surprising for one so drunk. "You need a job."
Hermione nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, but what to do? So many choices. No Ministry job, of course, but other than that…"
"Just do what you always wanted to do and never thought you would get a chance to," Theodore said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. Hermione could only agree with him, and she closed her eyes in the knowledge that the answer would await her when she woke up again.
Apparently getting arse-over-tits drunk and salivating over Draco's arse together was exactly what Hermione and Theodore needed to get past the awkward first stage of living together as near strangers and change into a more comfortable state of a deep and intimate friendship where two people become perfectly in tune with one another. As time passed, so did their relationship progress, to such a degree that Hermione couldn't even remember why she had never wanted a partner in her life before she married Theo. She hadn't realised quite how lonely she had been until she had to admit to herself that she missed Theo's companionship while he was off for a week in Italy with his newest beau.
"Although I suppose it still isn't what you and Draco have," she said to Harry when he fire-called her from France one evening. "I mean, it's more like having a brother or living with my best friend."
Harry laughed. "It's not as if you're lacking any action, Hermione. I know Theodore complained in his last letter to Draco about you forgetting your silencing charms."
Hermione grinned back. "Goes around, comes around…"
"He'll be back in a few days, though. And I told you you could have come to France for a few days, so don't be petulant now."
Hermione shrugged. "I couldn't take this week off, you know that. We can't all swan off to France to build a new life there."
"Luna did, have you heard? She was forced into an engagement by the Ministry and drove her poor husband-to-be so batty they almost evicted her from the country, just to be rid of her. I'm still not sure if she did it on purpose or not. But she's off to South America again, chasing some weird, nonexistent animal."
Hermione laughed. "Good old Luna."
"Draco's calling, I need to go. Do promise you'll visit soon, though, please?"
Hermione made her promise and Harry's head disappeared from the flames, only to be replaced by Draco's.
"And send us some more of that clotted cream. The food here is good, but that is one thing they are sorely lacking. See you, Granger!"
The flames died and Hermione was alone. Until a house elf popped into the room and demanded she go up to dress for dinner, because they didn't put all that trouble into cooking, for her to appear less than appropriately dressed for the occasion, even if she did eat alone.
"Here's your coffee," Theodore said when Hermione hurried past him towards the Floo room.
"You're a darling." Hermione accepted the cup and took a fortifying sip.
"Will you be home for dinner?"
"No, I have an interview scheduled at seven, so you have the house to yourself tonight. Maybe you can have whossname over? The tall Italian guy?" She shifted a stack of papers to the other arm and placed the cup on a side table, precariously close to the edge, hopping in place to fiddle with her shoe strap. Theodore quickly pushed her into a seat and adjusted the shoes for her.
"Amedeo? Haven't seen him for a while."
"Shame. He was rather easy on the eye." Hermione checked her schedule and wiggled her feet. Theodore helped her get up, pressed the coffee cup in her hands again and walked her to the Floo room.
"Apparently my wife walking in on us was a bit of a turn-off."
"Really? I thought it was rather the opposite."
"You minx. Get your voyeuristic arse to work and don't come back before midnight."
She grinned.
"Have fun!"
Theodore grinned back.
"Oh, I will."
"We've been married for over a year now," Hermione said one morning. "Do you think we're ready for children?"
Theodore spat out his coffee and promptly turned a sickly shade of green.
"Wha- Why?"
"Work seems settled, my body's ready and at its most fertile today, seemed as good a day as any to start. But if you want to wait another month…" Hermione shrugged and turned back to her newspaper, the Wizarding Chronicle. She knew exactly what all the articles said, as she was owner and Editor in Chief of the only independent British Wizarding news outlet. The weekly paper had been an instant success - possibly because Hermione used all her inside knowledge to bring the Ministry's shadier sides to light, and people did love a good scandal. Shacklebolt had managed to hold on to his seat, but only just. She still had a few aces up her sleeve, though. It was only a matter of time.
Theodore looked at his wife with a mixture of dread and despair. He did want children. Now that he knew he had a chance to have kids of his own, with his aristocratic nose or piercing blue eyes or dark blond hair… But nothing about the idea of having sex with Hermione sounded at all appealing. He couldn't see his way out of that.
"Fine," he said with all the air of a martyr about to be beheaded, his eyes screwed shut and his cheeks dark red with embarrassment. "Whenever you're ready." He could always close his eyes and think of Charles, couldn't he? A dull thud made him open his eyes again and he stared at a small jar Hermione had placed in front of him. She smirked.
"Well, off you go, then, husband dearest. Fill it up and put a stasis charm on it. I have an appointment at the hospital in two hours."
Theodore's eyes flicked from the jar to Hermione and back again.
"But… What… How…"
"Go and jack off somewhere, fill up the jar and hand it back to me," she said slowly.
"I don't understand… Don't we have to… I mean… Sex?"
Hermione laughed. "Oh honey, I'm so sorry, but I really, really don't want to have sex with you. You just fill the jar, I'll take it to the hospital and they'll make sure it gets where it needs to be. I'll be pregnant without you even touching me."
Theodore stared at the jar in wonder. Then his eyes moved to her abdomen, and the colour on his cheeks deepened.
"Seriously? We don't need to have sex?"
Hermione sat down again and sighed. "Surely I explained this to you? Muggles have a way of helping couples with fertility issues. All I need is your sperm. I promise. So off you go, dig out your PlayWizard magazines and produce some quality swimmers so that this time next month I'm well and truly pregnant." She crossed her arms and leaned back, staring pointedly at the jar.
"This is a Muggle thing? Are you sure it's safe?" Theodore asked. His hand was already inching towards it.
"It'll be fine, Theodore. I promise. Now please stop wasting time, I only have an hour and a half left now and I need to travel the Muggle way."
Theodore got up and took the jar from the table. It was incredibly awkward walking out of the conservatory and leaving Hermione behind, while they both knew what he'd be doing not even five minutes later in the privacy of his own rooms. He paused at the door, but didn't turn back.
"Can I come with you?"
Hermione spluttered and coughed through the sip of coffee that had gone down the wrong way.
"You want to come to a Muggle hospital?"
Theodore shrugged, still staring out at the hallway.
"It seems right," he mumbled.
Hermione walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You really want to accompany me?"
Theodore nodded. "It just seems right," he repeated. "It's the conception of our first child. I feel like I should be there. We're in this together, Hermione. Now that I know we don't actually have to… Well, I want to be a good father. And I think that starts with being right with you, every step of the way."
She hugged him from behind, a little awkwardly because he was about a head taller than she was, and kissed his cheek.
"I can already see you'll be a brilliant father," she said, squeezing him a little tighter before she let go again. Then she pushed him out the door. "Hurry up now, husband dear. I'll get the car out. Don't forget that stasis charm!"
"I'm horny," Hermione said in a whiny voice.
Theodore looked up from his book.
"I did not need to know that," he replied.
"I don't know why you're being snippy. I can't go out and get drunk and shag a stranger when I feel like it."
Theodore tried to suppress a smile. "You could. I'm sure there are men who…"
"Don't you finish that sentence, Theodore Nott! I will not be some creep's fetish come to life." Hermione sighed and squirmed uncomfortably on the sofa. This new, expanding body was very, very strange. She kept bumping into things because she wasn't used to her protruding belly yet. She had to walk differently to avoid back pains and never mind all those cute little heels she had in her closet. Flats from morning till nightfall. She had to pee every five minutes and could hardly keep any food down, even though she really wanted to eat loads and loads and then some. Especially pickled celery sticks and chocolate. Preferably together. And she was horny. So horny. But she just had to have the bad luck of being married to the one guy who really, really didn't want her.
"Maybe you can invite one of your little friends and I can watch?" she suggested hopefully. Theodore dropped his book in his lap and stared at her in mock dismay. Then he sighed.
"It's not like that would be anything new."
Hermione had the grace to turn slightly pink.
"That was an accident, I swear. I didn't mean to walk in on you and…" The silence lingered until Theodore supplied the name. "Richard. His name was Richard. We'd been together for about two months then, you know. You might try to remember his name."
Hermione shrugged.
"He wasn't right for you. Why bother filling my head with names I won't have to remember? You'll see when you meet the one, it… Oh…" She trailed off. Her hands went to her stomach and she stared down in wonder.
"It's moving. Our baby, it… Oh gosh, this is amazing!" She looked up at Theodore, her eyes shining brightly and a soft smile on her face. Theodore looked at her and smiled back uncertainly.
"Come over here. Come on, please." Hermione gestured at the seat next to her and he rose from his chair slowly. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. By the time he reached the sofa, Hermione had slumped back with a blissful smile.
"It stopped. But sit here, then you can feel it next time. Talk to the baby, maybe they'll react to your voice."
"Talk to it?" Theodore's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you? This is like Luna and her Nargles."
Hermione grinned at the mention of her friend. Sometimes Hermione wished she'd thought of just moving out of the country to avoid the Marriage Law. But Theodore Nott was a good man, an excellent companion and a supportive husband, so she couldn't really complain. And now this nugget in her womb was wriggling and swimming and kicking her stomach…
She grabbed Theodore's hand and pushed it onto her stomach. Theodore's eyes went wide, first with fear, then with wonder. He smiled incredulously.
"Hello, little one," he said softly. "I'm your father."
"Theodore Nott, where the hell are… you…" Hermione's voice faltered as her eyes fell on the couple making very creative use of Theodore's desk. Theodore was lying down on his back, his hands tied above his head, and a brunet man, whose neck had turned a dull red at the sound of her voice, was sliding in and out of him at a frantic pace. Well, that's what he had been doing until she spoke and they'd both stiffened in surprise. The brown-haired man didn't turn around, but he grabbed a shirt from the floor and covered Theodore up as he slid out of him.
"What the bloody hell, Hermione? Don't you ever knock?" Theodore panted as he tried to sit up and simultaneously cover himself to spare his modesty. He winced a little as his wrists were unbound and rubbed them gently.
Hermione wanted to speak but a particularly vicious contraction made her groan and lean against the door jamb for support.
"My waters broke. Contractions about every five to six minutes. We have to get to St Mungo's," she said, after it had finally subdued. If pregnancy was inconvenient, labour was plain torture. "Come on, Theodore, please. Get moving. Our child is about to be born."
Theodore stared at her, then leaned his forehead against a freckled shoulder.
"Shit."
Hermione heard some quiet murmurs and Theodore looked up again, nodding hesitantly.
"Your timing is awful, Hermione," he grumbled as he quickly threw on some clothes. "Get your bag and the Portkey, I'll be there in a minute."
She narrowed her eyes at the other man, who still hadn't turned around to look at her, and was about to ask a question when she caught Theodore's pleading eyes.
"Hurry up," she said instead of asking who on earth he had caught himself up with this time. She sure didn't recognize him that deliciously muscled behind.
Another contraction soon distracted her from the whispered goodbyes behind her and she waited in the entrance hall for her husband.
This was it. The tiny human being she'd been growing in her womb was going to take its first breath. It was scary and exciting and she couldn't wait and she wished she'd had more time to prepare. Theodore grabbed her elbow and her bag.
"Ready?"
"Not really, but our child isn't inclined to wait," Hermione said.
Another strong contraction made her clench Theodore's hand so tightly he was certain she'd broken some bones. As soon as the pain passed, they activated the Portkey to St Mungo's.
They were taken into the maternity ward immediately and a mediwitch came in to check her progress.
"First time, is it?" she asked cheerfully, just as Hermione cursed her way through another particularly nasty contraction. "Nothing to worry about, Mrs. Nott. Let's get you comfortable on the bed and I'll check on your progress."
Theodore swiveled around on his heel as soon as Hermione lay down, her clothes transfigured into hospital robes, and the mediwitch pushed her legs open to see how far she'd opened. He studied the wall with an attention it surely had never received before while the mediwitch behind him continued in her irritatingly cheerful voice, "Yes, well timed, Mrs. Nott. You are about halfway there. Just get comfortable, concentrate on your breathing. I can't give you pain relief yet because the Healer should check both you and the baby first. She'll be along shortly. Walking around may help with the contractions. Now, if you need anything, or if the contractions are longer than one minute and begin to succeed faster, please ring the bell and we'll be here right away to assist you. I'll see you later, Mrs Nott, Mr. Nott." She gave him a curious glance but smiled anyway and left the room.
Theodore turned around again just in time to see Hermione summon a book - of course she'd packed a book - and settle in the bed. His breath released in a sigh of relief. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.
He was wrong, of course. Five hours later she still hadn't had the baby, though the contractions were coming hard and long and fast, she'd broken two of his fingers and she kept swearing at him like a Jarvey, threatening to cut off his favourite appendage if he ever put her through something like this again. Pointing out that his appendage really hadn't had much to do with her current situation didn't help the situation and he was kicked out of the room.
Harry and Draco were waiting for him in the corridor.
"So, she finally kicked you out?" Draco asked. Theodore nodded miserably as Draco turned to Harry and held out his hand. "Told you! You owe me a Galleon."
Harry searched his pockets for a Galleon, which he plonked into Draco's hand.
"So how's she doing?" he asked, looking at Theodore. "Apart from screaming like a Banshee?"
"In pain," Theodore said. "Apparently she isn't making the progress they want her to make. This could be a very long night."
"You think she'd want to see me?"
Theodore shrugged. "Worth a shot. I've been told to leave but, well, you're her oldest friend, so… Go right ahead."
Draco and Theodore slumped in the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area.
"So is this what it's going to be like?" Draco asked. "Waiting in the corridor while Luna gives birth to our first child?"
"Probably," Theodore said. " Although, knowing Luna, she might very well want both of you around every step of the way."
Draco chuckled.
"So how is life in France?"
"Really, chitchat, at this time?" Draco grinned at his friend and then started explaining how moving to France was the best decision they'd ever made, and when Luna had offered to carry their children, they'd accepted immediately. Theodore stopped listening after the first five seconds, his mind fixed on the baby who would be coming into their family any time now. He was about to be a father. He was about to hold his firstborn child. He was about to become responsible for the happiness and safety of a dependent little creature that couldn't say or do anything. He was about to embark on the most important journey of his life and he was scared shitless.
"What if I fail," he whispered to himself, but Draco had heard him anyway. He put an arm around Theodore's shoulders and pulled him a little closer.
"Look," he said, "we neither of us had the best examples when it comes to fatherhood. I mean, I'm sure our fathers loved us in their way, but their life choices didn't really contribute to our health and happiness. But that doesn't mean we'll fail. In fact, I'm pretty sure this will mean that we're both going to be excellent fathers, because we'll never place some idiotic psychopath's ambitions ahead of the safety of our families."
Theodore nodded hesitantly, clearly unconvinced.
"And you're not alone in this, Theodore. You have Hermione by your side, and she'll never let you fail. Failure is simply not in her dictionary. She'll support you when you need it, she'll be with you every step of the way, no matter how long you stay married. Seriously, marrying that woman was the worst mistake you ever made, you'll never get rid of her!"
Theodore seemed to relax a little and even almost smiled.
Harry hurried out of the room just as a number of Healers and Mediwitches made their way into it.
"This is it, Nott, you have to go in."
Theodore stood up shakily and stared at the door behind which his wife was about to give birth to their first child. Draco pushed him closer.
"Remember," he said in Theodore's ear, "Remember that she'll be with you for this, she'll be there whenever you need her and even when you don't. But she needs you to be there now. Go help her put your firstborn child onto this earth. You can panic later."
And with a last nod, he entered the room and took his place at Hermione's side.
When he finally held his son in his arms, he didn't feel any panic at all, only overwhelming, all-encompassing love and wonder. He sat down on the edge of Hermione's bed and leaned against her shoulder as the baby snuggled and slept in his arms. She was tired, so tired, but she couldn't sleep just yet. She couldn't stop staring at the smattering of dark hair on his head, the tiny, tiny fingers, his cute little nose and those pouting lips.
"He's perfect," she said, her head resting on Theodore's shoulder. "We made this perfect human being by ourselves. I never knew what a miracle this really was."
Theodore squeezed her hand in agreement.
"Hello, Nicolas Granger-Nott. Welcome to our family."
"Nicolas Harry Granger-Nott, you put that down this instant or there will be hell to pay," Hermione yelled as her son ran around the living room holding a beautifully wrapped present high above his head where his sisters couldn't reach it.
The three children stopped in their tracks and turned to look at their mother with a mixture of innocent and contrite expressions.
"You know we don't touch those presents until Boxing Day," she admonished as she levitated the present back to the pile. "Now, get out of here, find your father and annoy him for a bit."
"But Mum, he's in his office with Oliver and the door won't open," Calla whined. Hermione managed to keep her face neutral but inwardly she rolled her eyes.
"Go to the library then, or your playroom. I don't want to hear any of you until dinner time. I need to get these rooms decorated before Harry and Draco arrive."
"Are they bringing Scorpius and James?" Nicolas asked, his voice barely containing his excitement.
"Yes, of course they are. They wouldn't celebrate Christmas with us without their sons! Now shoo. I need to finish the dining room."
"And Aunt Luna? Is she coming?" Calla asked with wide blue eyes.
"If she makes it to the Portkey in time. Why are you still here?"
Nicolas and Calla ran out, their footsteps and laughter echoing throughout the house.
Hermione turned to her youngest daughter.
"And what about you, Miss Selene?"
Selene smiled the heart-melting smile she'd inherited from her father.
"Can I help you, Mummy? I like decorating."
Hermione smiled back. She never could say no to her youngest daughter. She held out her hand and they went into the dining room together, where Selene decorated the table in green and red and Hermione levitated the wall decorations while listening to her daughter's incessant chatter.
She had just sent Selene off to wash her hands before dinner when someone walked up to her from behind and put his arms around her shoulders.
"Well done, my darling ex-wife," Theodore murmured in her ear.
"Thank you. It's a little strange now that we're not married any more." She turned around and threw her arms around him. They stood hugging each other for a while, before they both let go with an almost embarrassed smile. They never had become very physical with each other and even hugging was sometimes still awkward.
"I know," Theodore said. "It's been a wild ten years. But in a way, nothing really changed. We always had separate bedrooms, we always lived separate lives. We'll always be our children's parents, together. We're a great team, Hermione, and we always will be."
"Nick will be off to Hogwarts next September, can you imagine?"
"It seems only yesterday I held him for the first time. I was so scared, right before he was born, but then I held him and everything seemed to fall into place."
They were silent for a while, remembering the first moment their menace of a son had entered their lives. A rumbling noise like a herd of elephants descending the stairs signalled the arrival of their brood and brought them out of their memories.
"We did alright together, didn't we?"
Theodore smiled at the mother of his children, his best friend, and confidante, the only woman he would ever even remotely love, as platonic as that love would always be.
Hermione smiled back.
"Yeah, we did. I'm glad I chose you all those years ago, Theodore Nott. I couldn't have wished for a better husband."
"Nor I for a better wife."