MARRIAGE LAWS ARE FOR OTHER PEOPLE
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It's been a long time since I've written any fanfic. I've taken up reading it again, though, especially Harry Potter. And it turns out that marriage law fic is a thing. It's everywhere! And I'm wondering just what my favourite characters would be doing about this nasty little stunt...
It's not a romance.
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Hermione woke to something pushing at her shoulder. "Get off, Crookshanks," she mumbled, burying her face in her pillow. "It's the middle of the night."
There was a puzzled chirrup from the end of the bed, and a familiar voice above her head speaking in low tones. "Muffliato."
"Professor?" said Hermione, and the grogginess was wearing off fast now. "Professor McGonagall?"
"Lumos." A small beam of light illuminated the face of her Head of House. McGonagall was leaning over the bed with the curtains drawn around so that the light wouldn't disturb Hermione's dorm-mates. At the end of the bed Crookshanks blinked sleepily, a warm weight on his mistress's feet.
"You need to get up, child," the Professor said. "Quickly now. We don't have a lot of time." She whisked the covers down, and if Hermione hadn't already felt her stomach drop at the sudden appearance of her favourite teacher, she would have known to worry from the sheer sympathy on the woman's face.
"What is it?" she said. "Professor, is everything alright?" A bolt of sheer horror struck her. "My parents! Are they..."
"They are well, Miss Granger, I promise," said McGonagall. She was fully dressed, Hermione saw, her hair still tight in its bun as if she hadn't even been to bed yet. "But we have to get you out of here immediately."
"Is it You-Know-Who? Where's Harry and Ron? Should I get Ginny?"
McGonagall snorted. "Harry and Ron are in no danger," she said. "No more than usual, at least. As for Miss Weasley..." her voice wavered a moment. "There's nothing I can do for her right now. I've only room for two. But you, on the other hand, Miss Granger, I can help. And I will, so get up this instant."
Years of obedience to teachers – most of the time, anyway – had Hermione scrambling out of bed automatically. Crookshanks rose as well, stretching out his front legs and his wide intelligent eyes were bright and watchful.
"Here's your dressing gown. Slippers now, there's a good girl. Don't forget your wand."
Hermione hadn't even tied her gown shut when a muted chime sounded from the Professor's own wand. McGonagall cursed under her breath, and under any other circumstances Hermione would have laughed at such language coming from the normally strict teacher, but fear and movement took her breath as McGonagall grabbed her arm and actually sprinted out of the dormitory, dragging her down the stairs and out of the Gryffindor Common Room, Crookshanks following close behind.
Hermione did her best not to panic, but she wasn't helped by the portraits lining their route. Even in the dim light, she could see that half of them were urging her on, waving her down the corridors and whispering amongst themselves. "Where are we going?" she cried, and it sounded more like a wail.
Professor McGonagall didn't bother to answer her. She just ran faster.
After five minutes Hermione was bundled up the seemingly unending stairs of the Astronomy Tower. She was allowed to rest at the top, left in the doorway with a curt "Stay" from her Head of House. McGonagall strode out onto the open platform where the practical lessons were held and Hermione could see her conferring with two other teachers, who she recognised through the gloom as Professors Sinistra and Vector. The three women were huddled together, and all had angry expressions overlaid by worry.
"That it should come to this," said Sinistra. "It's a disgrace. At seventeen! They haven't even finished school yet!"
It was a foul night, absolutely freezing and with rain pouring down. Hermione had some shelter in the doorway but it wasn't a lot, and Crookshanks was huddled behind her legs, his flat fluffy face miserable and his tail twitching. "I've got a bad feeling about this," she said, picking the cat up and hugging him beneath her dressing gown to protect him from the weather.
She couldn't help but notice that Professor Sinistra was holding a broom. "A very bad feeling," she said, inching out into the rain and wishing for a pair of Extendable Ears.
"It's lockdown everywhere," Vector was saying. "I didn't think it would come so fast."
"Ministry officials will be here any minute," replied McGonagall. "If Madam Bones hadn't sent her alarm... We've got fifteen minutes, maybe less, to get those girls out of the castle."
"Get us where?" said a sleepy, dreamy voice from just behind Hermione.
"Luna?" she said. "Professor Flitwick?" The little man nodded at her, as sombre as she'd ever seen him.
"There's nothing to worry about, girls," he said. "You're just going on a little trip, that's all."
"I'm not going anywhere!" said Hermione, her voice rising. "This is crazy! I'm not leaving Hogwarts" – leaving Harry and Ron – "not for anything!"
Professor McGonagall drew her over to one side, gentler than Hermione would have expected from the stern expression on her face. "Miss Granger," she snapped, and then stopped. Her expression softened. "Miss Granger," she said, and it was kinder now, the tone she used when complimenting Hermione on the successful completion of a particularly tricky bit of Transfiguration. "I have been your Head of House for some years now. I hope you have come to trust me as I have you."
"I do trust you, Professor," said Hermione.
"Good. I'm going to ask you to do something now, and I don't have time to explain. I know you don't like ignorance, but within the day you will understand all my reasons and so I ask you to do as I say. It is vital that you now follow my instructions carefully and calmly. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Professor," said Hermione, clutching her cat to her. Beneath the dressing gown, Crookshanks squirmed closer.
McGonagall attached a small box to the tie of her dressing gown. "Inside this box is a Portkey," she said. "You and Miss Lovegood are going to fly as fast as you can to just outside the school grounds-"
She was interrupted by Professor Vector, who held out a small steaming bottle to Hermione. "Pepper-Up potion," she said. "Madame Pomfrey sent it. Hurry up now and drink." She passed a second bottle to Flitwick. "You too, Luna."
The potion was hot and strong, but over the steam coming out of her ears Hermione could still hear her Head of House. "The minute you're outside the school grounds, you and Miss Lovegood need to touch the Portkey. Together, mind you."
"I can't fly in this," said Hermione, automatically. She was bad enough on brooms at the best of times, but she'd never flown in such appalling weather before; the idea of it made her want to vomit. "I'll fall off!"
"I won't," said Luna, as Professor Flitwick led her up. "Hold onto me and I'll look after you."
"I can't!"
"You can," said McGonagall. "You're a Gryffindor. Be brave..." she looked as if she would have carried on, but another chime rang then, from both her wand and Flitwick's. It was deeper than before.
"They're here," said Vector. "You need to go meet them. Quickly, so they don't suspect. Aurora and I will get these two off."
Hermione felt her face being cupped gently, steadily. She realised with surprise that she was tall enough now to look McGonagall in the eye. The Professor was smiling at her; a wintry smile. "We're not really supposed to have favourites, Miss Granger," she said. "But you are mine. Good luck, my dear."
Next to her Luna had bent down to embrace her own Head of House. Flitwick kissed her on both cheeks and patted her under the chin. "I know you'll make me proud," he said.
Then the two of them were gone, moving swiftly down the stairs and out of sight. "Come on girls," said Vector, holding the broom out. Luna settled on it quickly, easily, and Hermione clung on behind her, Crookshanks squashed between them so hard that he squeaked.
"Couldn't we just go out the back door or something?" Hermione pleaded, as Sinistra transfigured their wet dressing gowns into raincoats and tugged the hoods over their heads.
"Safer this way," she said. "The Ministry might have people patrolling the grounds, but no-one's going to be looking up at this time of night. Not in this weather." And she pushed them off the tower.
It was a nightmare ride. Hermione hid her face in Luna's wet hood, trying not to scream or be sick. She was actually grateful for Crookshanks' claws, which were dug so far into her flesh they were drawing blood. The pain was almost a distraction.
Her hands went numb almost instantly. Against the rain and the wind the Pepper-Up steam could only do so much, but even if she were able to unclench her hands from Luna's raincoat long enough to wave her wand, her chattering teeth would have butchered even the simplest of warming spells. She could feel Luna shivering against her, and it didn't make Hermione feel any better to realise, half-way through their flight, that Luna was humming tunelessly to herself as well as shivering.
It was the humming that made her realise Luna was as terrified as she was: a small song, over and over, and Luna was doing it unconsciously, the humming rising almost to whimpering at each strong gust.
She's braver than you are right now, Hermione thought, and consciously tried to loosen her grip a little to let the other girl breathe easier. It didn't work. Her fingers simply wouldn't cooperate.
Landing just past the edge of the Forbidden Forest was nearly a relief. They were sheltered a little from the wind and rain, but Hermione had been in the Forest after dark before and never, ever wanted to be there again.
She fumbled the box from her dressing gown. It was only after Luna cast a warming spell on her hands that Hermione was able to get it open. Inside was a large wax apple, a piece of fake fruit like Hermione had sometimes seen in the home of elderly Muggles.
"Where do you think it will take us?" said Luna, her face shining in a small circle of light created by both their wands.
"I don't know!" Hermione bit her lip, stared from the apple to the castle and back again. "Do you think we should go back?" she said. "If they're in trouble..." Harry, she thought. Ron. Ginny, who McGonagall had said she couldn't do anything for. And Hogwarts itself, which had become the home she was most happy in. "We could help."
"What if it's the leaving that's helping?" said Luna.
"What if it isn't?" Hermione snapped.
"Then we try our best to come back," said Luna. "What does Crookshanks say?"
"He's a cat, Luna," Hermione began, but the cat in question was purring. It was a grumpy purr, one that said he hated flying as much as his mistress and his claws were all still dug in, but his fat wet head poked out of her raincoat and licked her throat.
"Two against one," said Luna.
Hermione hesitated. Then "Alright," she said, securing her wand. "Alright. But take my hand, so we don't get separated somehow." She looked at the Forest and shuddered. "Wherever we're going, it's got to be better than here," she said.
Luna's hand was wet and cold in her own. Together, they reached out their free hands and touched the apple, and the world around them disappeared –
and snapped into focus again. The world, Hermione saw, consisted of strangely large furniture and a woven rug, a warm fire burnt down to embers.
An imposing figure loomed behind them. "Welcome to Beauxbatons, petites," said Madame Maxime.