It seems I just never run out of concepts... always. Well, this one is fun! It does have the possibility of such at least. Tell me what you think, and I might post some more!
Summary: Rehabilitation is tough. People get hurt and wounds of old never seem to close. Enter the crazy Wizengamot idea of forcing rehab on those that were accessories into the darker side of the war. Hermione Granger was many things, but counselor was not one of them. At least she didn't have time to be to the worse criminals of them all in her opinion. Kingsley put his faith in the ambitious woman; but what if her ambitions and the twisted heart of a widower start a chain reaction… one of which might end in death
Hermione was scrubbing her face at the pages in front of her. Kingsley was staring at her with a neutral expression, but he could see her anxiety. They would not speak, at least until she had gathered herself some. This was not what they had planned. It wasn't even close to the bill she wrote, but no one would agree with her ideas, so the minister had to comply if he wanted the law passed.
"I don't understand," Hermione started, pressing her index finger to the parchment. "You need me to do what? This is bloody mental, sir," she finished with a hardened gaze.
"This was the only way they would agree to your antiprejudice law, Miss Granger. I am sorry, but large measures have to be taken to ensure its growth."
The witch stood up and straightened her suit. "Then get someone else to do this. I am not going to be the sacrificial lamb to start this." She spat, her curly hair threatening to break from its binding.
"Hermione, if you don't start this for the possible good press on this bill… it just won't happen. Without this bill, we cannot start our next big leg up. I want to get you internationally applied." Kingsley insisted as she pressed her hands on either side of the report.
Hermione's frown faded, and her pride tugged at her. "International? Speaking to others about my goals?"
Kingsley nodded slowly and knitted his fingers together. "I want people to think of 'next minister,' when they see your name, Hermione. No one would do it better, but no one sees you in public anymore. You are working on bills, but your face is missing. This is a grand way to start to get people whispering again. Our plans won't happen if you don't do something monumental."
She groaned loudly and flopped back in her chair. "So, I need to go play nice with people I have a sincere revulsion for, Kingsley? I better see a bloody decent amount of change if I am going to subject myself to him."
"I will make you a deal. You spend the three months recommended for proper reintegration, and I will never ask you to see them again." He said with a single nod.
Hermione covered her face and exhaled. "How am I going to explain this to Ron and Harry?"
"Simple. You are doing what you have to do, Miss Granger. You do this, and no one can say you never tried."
She bobbed her head in defeat as her hands fell away. "Alright, but swear to me that you will warn them I have no intentions of putting up with abuse."
"I swear on magic, Hermione. Not one spell or word will be allotted against you. You are the one thing between them and Azkaban."
The witch expelled the poisonous words she had on her tongue through another heavy breath to let them go; there was no way she could curse her way out of this. Erecting herself from the chair, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and furrowed her brows. "Kingsley, I expect them to be hospitable. I am not doing this for any other reason than to finish this bill. It is a priority for equality."
She was turning to leave when he hemmed. "Equality for all, Miss Granger. Hate never was the path to acceptance. Forgiveness is."
Hermione shot him a glare and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, forgiveness is only applied to those that are deserving of it." With that, the witch left the minister's office and tried to calm her disgust.
How long has it been? Over ten years. That is a vast bulk of time. It sure had not felt like more than ten years to her as she went through the ebb and flows of life. Things normalized a few years after the war; or at least as usual as things could get. She got to work in the Magical Creatures division and made considerable changes to the laws in that branch for a couple of years. So successful that Kingsley brought her up to help rewrite and revise many laws elsewhere.
Now she was in the thick of putting forth many antidiscrimination laws against muggleborns, muggles and magically conditioned wizards. The hitch in her latest bill was the counter-argument that no one was helping heal the wounds long since past. Healing wounds? More like kissing boots and making nice Hermione thought venomously. You cannot convict someone of a crime they did not receive guidance for not following? Ballocks, the whole lot of it.
"Hermione?" someone called out to her shaking her from her mental rant.
Turning she saw Ron walking the hallway toward the exit. "Oh, hello, Ron. I was just heading out for a bite," Hermione murmured with a polite smile.
"How are things? Harry told me you are always so busy with work that he and Gin hardly see you," he declared closing the distance.
She didn't want to talk to Ron. Of all people to see with how agitated she was, he was the last person she wanted to be around. "Yes, well. Between working and taking care of Andromeda, my workload is a bit on the heavy side." Hermione admitted with a small tint to her cheeks.
He stared at her with a tilt of his head. "Trisha was asking about you again. When are you going to come visit and see Rose? She is absolutely lovely." Ron mumbled as they left the ministry and entered Diagon Alley.
Hermione straightened her suit and eyed the crowd in front of them. "Well, when I have time. I am starting a new project, and it is going to be near impossible to do anything else. I will have to tell you and Harry about it tonight." She conceded, attempting to backpedal from the pending conversation.
"You know we worry about you, Hermione. You haven't been the same since," he paused and shrugged his shoulders. "You know."
"Yes, I do," she huffed halting their progress and pivoting toward Ron. "Listen, I have to grab a quick bite so I can get back to work. Tell Harry I will see him and Ginny tonight. I will let you know what I am going to be working on before it hits the papers tomorrow," Hermione declared and her lips pursed. "Try to be a bit understanding of what an ill predicament I am in, alright?" Hermione didn't give him a chance to reply as she walked off and disappeared into the sea of unknown faces.
There is much to be said about the afternoons at the manor in Draco's opinion. It always held a small delight for the young father to see his son blowing dandelions into the wind. Draco was sitting on the grass and looking out at the vastness that existed around his home. He would sometimes see her waving at him as she helped the boy walk; the child tottering between her legs as she laughed.
"A dragonfly!" the boy shouted and chased after the bug zipping in the air.
Draco was pulling small pieces of grass from his shirt and watching the blond child. "Maybe we should get some lunch, son," he called out, and the boy clapped.
"A new book too?" Scorpius inquired and the father cringed slightly.
"Not today," Draco replied, standing up from his relaxed position.
The boy exhaled loudly with a scrunched expression as he closed the distance to his father. "Why not? We never go out anymore, dad," he huffed, kicking a rock lightly.
"Because why leave when we have everything we need here?"
Draco started his traveling back toward the manor when the child reached him and kept pace with a skip in his step. "I want a new book. I want to go to the alley again," Scorpius pouted, and his tone only grew more upset by the second.
"How about we make a day of it this weekend. Maybe even see if your grandmother wants to go?" Draco offered, trying desperately to cull the determined child.
Scorpius bobbed his head but still looked doubtful. "You always say that," he sighed.
When they entered the house, they were greeted by a vision Draco was not accustomed to seeing. Their house elf, Dinkly, was hopping around with a skip to his step. Scorpius tilted his head in wonder before walking off toward the sitting room. If he couldn't convince his father, he would end up trying his grandmother. It was typical behavior, and Draco paid it little heed.
"Master Draco, Mistress told Dinkly that Mistress is looking for you," the small house elf said with a nod and hopped off.
Draco was grumbling under his breath; the likelihood of her finding his liquor stash and looking to chide him for it was high. The Malfoy father paced himself as he headed toward the sitting room. He did not want to seem eager to defend his actions, but he wasn't going to sit there and take her scolding either.
"As you can see, we have renovated the manor since you have been here last, Minister." Narcissa's voice carried into the hallway, and Draco's expression tightened.
"Yes, it is lovely, Mrs. Malfoy," Kingsley declared as Draco entered.
Lucius was sitting in his large armchair as Narcissa took comfort in the loveseat. His son was sipping on a teacup, likely filled with hot cocoa and stationed in front of his grandmother on the floor. Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting on the elaborate sofa with Harry Potter… of all bloody people.
"Ah, Draco Malfoy, it is nice for you to join us. Your son is quite rambunctious," Kingsley said with a soft smile.
Draco plastered on a smile as he closed the distance and stood among the group. "Yes, he does tend to get that way in the afternoons," Draco murmured before tilting his head. "What is the occasion this time, Minister Shacklebolt?"
"Oh, yes, where are my manners today," the minister responded and dug in his coat for a folded parchment. "I have all the detailing here. It is quite sound, I promise you." He said simply before Draco reached for the outstretched note.
Draco read over it carefully, and his stomach dropped. "You are doing what?" he inquired as his brow furrowed.
"To take it out of the eloquently written order; we are starting a new process to restore the few free former death eaters and assimilate them. A way of reconciling with our past so we all can move forward to the future." Kingsley explained.
Dinkly popped in with a tea tray and bowed quietly before leaving once again. Lucius was the first to move, but Draco could see he was threatening an outburst. The ornery wizard had gotten far more disastrous with older age. "You are reforming us how, Shacklebolt?" Lucius growled as he dressed a cup of tea.
"I am having an analyst be a part of your lives for three months. They will take notes as needed and have a report on whether you have atoned for your actions or further work is needed. We can't pass a law about discrimination and not take etiquettes toward being positive that no one is left behind. On both fronts," Kingsley finished, turning to Harry.
Harry scrunched his nose before pulling his glasses off and cleaning them. "Well, you know best, Minister," Harry mumbled.
"I am not having Mr. Potter come into my home every day," Lucius snapped before sipping his tea.
Draco was seething at the whole concept. "I have to agree with my father. I do not want a ministry official coming into my home and disturbing our peace." Draco retorted with a firm nod.
Kingsley shook his head and sighed. "It has nothing to do with disturbing your peace, Mr. Malfoy. We can't move forward as a community if we leave any wizard behind; pure or muggleborn. This is about unifying us, not ripping open old wounds. The world cannot move forward if we leave some to lick their wounds in silence." He finished and Harry bobbed his head.
"And I will not be coming here, someone else is. My only purpose here is to be the official that heard Minister Shacklebolt tell your family about this. The person you will be dealing with is respectable and the last witch I know who would harm or berate any of you," Harry declared with a tight expression.
"I still don't agree with this. I don't need some witch coming into my home," Lucius hissed, squeezing his teacup tighter.
Narcissa pursed her lips and shifted on the loveseat. "Will she be here all day long?" she questioned.
Draco scrubbed his face and groaned. "Mother, you can't be seriously contemplating this."
"If this will end the rumors and disgusting assumptions, then yes, son, I am," Narcissa retorted with an icy stare.
Kingsley hemmed lightly. "She wouldn't at first. Not unless she felt compelled. No one likes to be on display; I understand that wholeheartedly. However, we all need to work together to keep this as friendly and enlightening as possible. Her task is straightforward. Observe, communicate and report. You do not have to entertain nor save face. I would appreciate it if you would be pleasant and kind so we can all get through this with peace of mind."
Draco huffed and paced a few steps before turning to the minister once again. "What you are asking of us is downright mental, Minister." He said flatly.
Scorpius, who was quietly watching the turn of events, climbed on the loveseat next to his grandmother. "Is someone coming to visit, dad?" Narcissa hushed him with a gentle pat.
"Can we get through these three months? Nothing would give me more pleasure than offering up the vacant seat in Wizengamot for the Malfoys once the reform is completed." Kingsley declared, causing Harry to cringe lightly.
Lucius paused his teacup rising to his lips and arched an eyebrow. "Our seat? You are offering our seat in return for a positive report in three months?" he inquired.
"Yes, that is the idea. If you can prove that you have rehabilitated in three months. We can start reestablishing your seat and other reasonable positions for the Malfoy House. Only with a serious and thorough report can we prove that you have let go of your old beliefs." Kingsley paused and pointed to the parchment still in Draco's hand. "It is all in there. It will not be easy; I understand that. However, I am more than certain that it is worth the time of inconvenience."
Lucius smirked and bobbed his head. "Of course, Minister," he purred; his attitude was changing into one of more appeal at the mention of the perks.
Draco eyed the details with scrutiny. "We have to convince this ministry witch. Who are we working with, Minister Shacklebolt?" Draco asked with a skeptical gaze.
Kingsley glanced at Harry who was glowering at him. "Well, Hermione Granger is head of the project. She will be the head administrator on the case. I trust that she will be unbiased and follow procedures to the letter."
"Hermione Granger?" Narcissa questioned, now her expression was grave.
"Yes, she will be working on this case," the minister repeated, his tone careful and collected.
Draco shuddered and scrubbed his face. "Can we please get someone else?"
"No, Mr. Malfoy. She is the only capable of doing these reports. Is there a problem?"
Lucius was trying to hide the mild distain, but doing poorly at it as he spoke. "She is the last witch to be unbiased about us, Shacklebolt," the older Malfoy responded with a sneer.
"I promise you that is not the case. Now, expect her at usual business hours tomorrow and we can get this started. Any questions or legal concerns please contact me or Mr. Potter." Kingsley declared and glanced at the clock. "For now, I have a meeting and can't be late for it."
Kingsley said his goodbyes very kindly to the Malfoys, but Harry lingered just a moment. "Please remember- you cause her any distress and I have every right to be right back over here. Have a great day." Harry left after speaking his peace, leaving the Malfoys to stew.
"Of all the ill conceived laws, this one takes the cauldron cake!" Draco hissed tossing a glare at his parents. "This is ridiculous."
Lucius exhaled with a pinched expression. "That girl is the last witch alive to want the best for any of us," he spat, rising from his chair. "I am going to go to my study."
Narcissa was stroking Scorpius's hair as she frowned. "I suppose we best get used to company. My darling grandson, we should find something nice for you to wear tomorrow."
"Yeah," Scorpius responded with a smile.
"Try to calm down, son," Narcissa whispered as she stood up from the loveseat.
She kissed her son's cheek and Draco moaned. "I can't believe this rubbish."
"Let's try to be nice… it will only benefit us in the end," she reminded him and left the younger Malfoy to stew about the prospects of tomorrow.
