Kingsley had been sitting at his desk for nearly an hour, signing into effect new laws that would ensure the safety of the citizens of the country. Laws protecting Muggles from magical interference. Laws protecting magical creatures from subjugation. And the more mundane, which was typically zoning codes, and orders to rebuild Hogwarts, the site of the last battle of the war, which was the most affected. Hogwarts had become a symbol for the country. The sooner it was rebuilt, the sooner people would feel like life was moving on, and they would be able to heal from their experience.
So when Percy Weasley finally brought the report from Hermione Granger, allowing reconstruction to start on the Hogwarts library, he eagerly picked up his quill and signed. After signing the first sheet Percy handed him, he unstuck the second sheet from the back of the first, and signed it too.
What he hadn't expected was for the sheet to begin shining its own light, as if lit from the inside, through the actual lines of script. After the sheet illuminated, a stack of fresh parchment appeared on Kingsley's desk.
Kingsley and Percy both stood looking at the scene on the Minister's desk. Unsure what he had just done, Kingsley looked over the paper he had just signed. It was in a language he didn't understand, but the stack of papers to the side were clear to him. It looked like a list, never-ending.
Abbot, Hannah…. Longbottom, Neville
Alcott, Amanda…. Goyle, Gregory
Andrews, Francine….
Kingsley's eyebrows knit together, making his eyes grow dark. He didn't like the look of the list… It went alphabetically by female name, with an accompanying male name that seemed to be at random. Looking back at the sheet he had signed, he noticed that above his very own name were the unmistakable signatures of Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Godric Gryffindor.
"Weasley," Kingsley said in a low baritone. "Find Hermione."
Percy swallowed and nodded, and without being told twice, left the Minister's office and started his search for Hermione Granger.
"You simply cannot confiscate those items, Potter, I'll not have it," Lucius Malfoy had shouted across the courtyard of his vast estate.
"And yet, here I am doing it all the same," he said, placing the books in a bag much like the one Hermione had charmed before they set out to destroy Horcruxes. "You're lucky we're just taking books, and not taking you to Azkaban."
"You've been ever so kind to remind me of my indebtedness to you, Potter," the words dripped like acid from Malfoy's mouth.
"If it weren't for Narcissa, your family would be in prison with the rest of the Death Eaters," Harry said, wiping his hands on his jeans, as if the books could transfer residual Dark magic. "Good day, Mr. Malfoy. I suggest you choose your reading materials more carefully from now on."
Walking away, Harry made eye contact with Hermione. The look on Harry's face said everything. He had been waiting for years to give the Malfoy family their comeuppance. The two of them turned and Disapparated to just outside of the Ministry. When they both landed in the crowded streets of London, they both burst out laughing.
"Did you see his face?" Harry said between laughs.
Hermione was wiping tears from her eyes and nodding. "Serves the old git right," she said. "I only wish I had a camera."
The two of them entered the Ministry through the public toilet, giggling as they exited the row of Floos in the main entrance to the ministry. They entered the elevator, and Harry hiked the messenger bag up on his shoulder. It was a good haul for the day. The Auror vault of Dark Artifacts was growing, and the wards around the vault were ironclad. Harry was sure that Dumbledore himself would have been proud of the security job.
When the elevator opened on Hermione's floor, the slight smile still playing on her face was wiped off by none other than Percy Weasley, standing in front of her with a panicked look on his own. Hermione turned to Harry and gave him a knowing glance. "Gotta go," she said.
"Right, see ya," Harry said. "Thanks for the help with the journals. I'm sure they'll make an interesting read when you get around to it."
Hermione watched as the elevator closed, and Harry was whisked away to the Auror Department. "What is it now, Percy?"
"Hermione, you'd better come quick," Percy said, more seriously than he usually did.
"Why is everything so urgent today?" Hermione murmured to herself, following closely behind the Weasley boy.
When they reached Kingsley's office, all of the office staff seemed to be walking on eggshells. Suddenly, Hermione felt that this was more than your average office blunder. Two witches stood in a corner whispering to each other. One wizard ran furiously from one end of the office to the other, carrying a stack of papers that looked curiously like the ones that were on Hermione's desk not an hour earlier.
"Hey!" Hermione called furiously. "That's my work!" She tore off after the wizard, and was stopped by a familiar voice calling her back.
"Hermione, we need to speak. Now." It was Kingsley.
Hermione turned and walked into Kingsley's office. The door was shut behind them, and Kinglsey sat gravely behind his desk, which had been cleared of everything but a tall stack of parchment, and one aged-looking artifact. The Founders document she'd started translation on.
"I think you need to explain what this is, Hermione," Kinglsey said. His tone was serious, but he was still as calm as ever.
"I just started translating that before Harry called me away to assist on a book seizure."
He held up a fresh sheet of parchment with her own handwriting. "If this translation is going where I think it's going, I think we have a major problem on our hands."
Hermione's mouth went dry. "Why?" she asked, and added slowly. "What happened?"
"I was signing things for young Weasley out there, and thought nothing of it when he passed me your report—"
"My report?" Hermione exclaimed, a little too loudly. "It's not done yet. I told Percy I would have it for him this afternoon."
"It seems Percy became impatient, and this came along with it, and in my haste, it was signed."
"Signed?" Hermione looked at the document. It had enormous historical value—and now Kingsley's signature was forever immortalized below the three Hogwarts founders.
"I would apologize for ruining such a historical document, Hermione, if it weren't for the fact that a moment later it began to glow, and this stack of papers appeared immediately after."
Hermione looked at the papers. The words were upside down, but it looked like a list of some sort. When she turned the stack, and saw a list of names, she shook her head in confusion. Without a word, she took the Hogwarts document and the beginning of the translation, and grabbed Kingsley's quill from his desk. He gave no objections. After a few minutes, Hermione had a full translation. The realization made her blanch.
With her hands shaking, she read aloud to Kingsley:
"Of magical blood that's pure,
let all but love endure.
To make our numbers strong,
let not the words of the fanatical belong,
but unity's truth be heard
and the lines of purity be blurred.
A magical bond made strong by marriage
Lest refusal ensure a magical miscarriage.
Magical match made simple by law,
Let no witch or wizard object to any flaw.
Refusal shall strip them of power
in this magical law's first gleaming hour.
If marriage not be consummated by half a year's time
endure magical powers' loss in witch or wizard's prime."
Hermione's voice faltered, and she slumped down into a chair opposite Kingsley's desk. She felt as if she was going to be sick. Her eyes fixed lazily on the stack of papers on Kinglsey's desk.
"This isn't good, Hermione," Kinglsey said, his eyes full of fiery warning.
"Kingsley, I am so sorry. I wasn't done yet. I would never have intended for this to happen, please—"
"Hermione!" Kinglsey stood, and rounded his desk, where he leaned against its edge. "The fault, I am afraid, does not lie with one person alone. Perhaps it is Percy and I, perhaps it is all of us. But it is done. This list seems random at first glance, but upon further inspection, it appears that all witches and wizards of Muggle-birth or mixed-blood origin have been paired with a pure-blood wizard. This appears to have been the design of the three founders. And the absence of a fourth signature is all the more telling… I think I know why they drafted this."
Hermione's mind was racing a mile a minute. "But how did your signature cause this to happen?"
Kingsley shook his head. "I have no clue. But when the press finds out, I'm going to be out of a job, I'm sure."
"No!" Hermione shouted, suddenly standing. "No, no, Kingsley, I'll take the blame. You can't lose your position. You are the best one to lead us out of this darkness."
"I'm the one who signed it, Hermione. They will surely blame me. As they are right to."
"What if…" Hermione grasped at straws. "What if the public didn't know it was your signature that activated this power? What if we just revealed that we found the document and then this list appeared?" Her eyes shone with tears.
Kingsley shook his head. "That is not my way, Hermione, and you know it." He sighed, and looked at the stack.
"The public will be told. I will hold a conference at the end of the day today. Bad news is best given on Friday, if only to give the public a chance to digest it."
"I'll be there, at the conference. I'll speak and let everyone know that it's partially my fault."
Kinglsey smiled, and shook his head. "You just get to work on signing off on the rest of the Hogwarts construction, and leave the rest to Percy and myself. You may… do some more research for me. So we know exactly what we're dealing with. And how to reverse it, if it's at all possible."
"I'll get right on it. I'll consult a few of our Curse Breakers. And the Department of Mysteries maybe…" Hermione felt as if she was in a daze. She turned to leave Kingsley's office.
"Hermione," Kingsley called. "Go home. Don't worry about this right now. We'll start fresh on Monday."
"Right," Hermione said, still in a fog. She swallowed, and nodded at Kingsley before leaving his office.
She was able to walk all the way to the Floo networks before she realized where she was. She tucked her wand into her robes, and grabbed a pinch of Floo powder before shouting the first place that came to her mind.
The fireplace in the study of Number 12 Grimmauld Place erupted into green flames, and Hermione Granger stepped out of it with a vacant expression on her face. Sirius had been sitting in his father's old chair, reading a Muggle novel he picked up at the antique book shop down the street (Oliver Twist) when he watched the young woman step through the flames. It took her a moment to register that Sirius was sitting right in front of the fireplace.
"Hermione?" Sirius asked, closing his book abruptly and rising to greet her. "Is everything alright?"
He stood just in front of her, looking down at the girl whose head rose no higher than his shoulders. He could see that she was trembling. Without a word, she strode past him, and approached the side table where the decanter of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey was always full. She grabbed an etched crystal glass and poured herself a generous three fingers and drank it all in one go. Sirius's eyes widened at seeing the eighteen-year-old girl behave so. It was so… un-Hermione.
Shivering slightly at the burning liquid that was going down her throat, Hermione poured another three fingers. Before the glass hit her lips, Sirius stepped in and placed his hand gently on Hermione's to stop her from drinking herself silly.
"Easy there, Hermione," Sirius said. Still, he let her hold onto the glass. Clearly, she thought she needed it.
"What's going on?" He asked, his fatherly concern for his godson's best friend on high alert.
Hermione's eyes pleaded with Sirius's. She shook her head in disbelief. "It's all my fault, Sirius," she said. "I'll be shunned for sure. And Kingsley will be sacked, I'm sure of it."
"You're not making any sense, Hermione. Tell me what's happened."
"Harry," Hermione said simply. "I think I should wait for Harry… I don't know if I can… say this twice."
"Is Harry alright?" Sirius asked with urgency.
Hermione nodded. "But I think he's going to be very cross with me, so I don't know what to tell you."
With a shaking hand, Hermione brought the firewhiskey up to her mouth and drank modestly. As if summoned psychically, the Floo blazed green again, and Harry stepped through, looking around.
"Hermione!" Harry called, reaching her. He put his hands on her upper arms, and looked into her eyes. "Are you alright?"
Hermione gave a small, sad chuckle. "Of course you would ask that. Selfless Harry. Always thinking of other people."
"Of course I'm thinking of you, Hermione, after what I heard in the Ministry hallways. Kingsley is about to give a conference in the entryway in about ten minutes."
"And it's all my fault. You might not be able to marry Ginny now, and I…" the pit in Hermione's stomach grew when she thought of Ron, and how she hadn't thought to look past the first three names on the list. Why didn't she look?
Harry's face fell, but he kept his demeanor neutral. "Hermione, if what Percy told me is true, you can't be blamed. Blimey, even Percy can't be blamed—it was just a human error, Hermione."
"Alright, both of you!" Sirius said, his hands resting on one of both Hermione and Harry's shoulders. "What is going on?"
Hermione sank down into the very chair where Sirius had been sitting before. She took a moment to breathe before she told Sirius what had happened, as she understood it.
"It must have been around the time that Salazar Slytherin built the Chamber of Secrets. When he said Muggle-born and mixed-blood students couldn't be trusted. And he put the Basilisk in the Chamber to kill non-pure students. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor wanted a way to ensure that the pure-bloods had to deal with intermarriage. If they didn't, their magic was taken from them."
"How can that be possible?" Sirius asked. "They were some of the greatest wizards who ever lived, but surely they didn't have that kind of power."
"Together they must have," Hermione added sadly, looking at the bottom of her empty glass. "I just don't understand how Kingsley's signature was enough to complete whatever spell or curse it was."
"But Hermione," Harry said, kneeling in front of his best friend, taking her hand. "You said it was just a stack of papers. What's to say it actually worked? How do we know anyone is going to lose their magic?"
Hermione smiled sadly. "Don't you see, Harry? Someone has to refuse. And when they lose their magic, we will know. But someone has to lose their magic for that to happen… The question is, who is it going to be? And what constitutes a refusal? There is so much I don't understand… Kingsley sent me home. And I listened." She shook her head. "I should go back, I can't just sit at home all weekend like a… a silly little girl."
She rose to leave, but Sirius grabbed her arm, and pulled her gently back. The look on her face broke his heart, and not knowing what else to do, he pulled her into an embrace. Hermione must have needed this gesture desperately, for she melted into his chest, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Sirius placed one hand on her curly mane of hair, and the other on her upper back.
After making a few comforting sounds, and after Hermione's quiet sobs stopped, she pulled back. Sirius, assuming the role of nurturer yet again, wiped the remaining tears from Hermione's face.
"There there now," he said, a comforting smile on his face. "I'm sure there's got to be some kind of solution. And even if there isn't, Hermione, the wizarding world has dealt with worse."
"I just don't want this to be the kind of world that we live in now. If it's not one crisis, it's another."
"If this is a crisis, Hermione, I'm fairly certain we'll be alright in the long run," Harry chimed in. "After all. You said there were six months before the spell took effect, right? You can do a lot of work in six months. You'll probably have it all sorted by then."
Hermione nodded. She wasn't too sure of herself, but she knew that there had to be answers out there. There just had to be.
"I'm sorry, Sirius," Hermione said, clearing her eyelashes of tears that hadn't yet fallen. "I came here looking for Harry, and just barged in on you. I shouldn't have come here."
"Nonsense," he said. "You're welcome to stay if you'd like." He thought a moment. "As a matter of fact, I'm going to insist that you stay. I don't like the idea of you staying in that apartment of yours alone."
Hermione smiled. "I wouldn't be alone. Crookshanks is probably yowling for dinner already."
"If it's all the same, Hermione, I think Harry and I would feel better if you stayed with us tonight. You can Apparate home and grab Crookshanks, but please don't refuse the offer."
Hermione nodded and smiled. When Hermione Disapparated to her own apartment to collect her things, Harry and Sirius were left in the parlor staring at each other. Neither of them had to say it aloud. They knew that come Saturday morning when the Daily Prophet was delivered to homes across the nation, all of wizarding England would be looking for someone to blame. And they would be there to help Hermione in the days to come. She was going to need it.
