The Ministry protests reflect the student protests in Britain; fucking government raising tuition fees ¬¬


The Ministry for Magic was facing one of it's busiest morning. An American senator had Portkeyed straight to the British Ministry to discuss controversial proposals which could ban overseas Healer training. The wizarding population was on the rise and demands on industries and governments worldwide, particularly health-care and the ministry, had been higher than ever before. Many prospective healers found that there was no alternative but to study in the states therefore forcing American wizarding hospitals to provide the b.h.p (British Healer's Permit). Senior healers had had enough and were demanding some kind of filter to be put in place, hoping to dub down the number of young healers studying in their hospitals.

So the Ministry was full of journalist, protesters and American wizards. Through the throng, the shouting and jinxed flyers exploding in the air before multiplying onto bawling folk below, a young married couple was feeding their way through towards the gates, bickering as they walked.

"I still cannot believe you managed to fall into that fountain," Hermione said. She shook her head slightly as she walked hand in hand with her husband through the ministry atrium, ignoring the noise.

"It was an accident." Ron replied, eyeing the beautiful fountain. A few months after the fall of the dark lord, a wizard from abroad was invited to the ministry to carve a new fountain; it was now of a goddess named Nampula, rumoured to be a veela, riding a unicorn. Her arms were outstretched as she sat on the marble creatures back, smiling at the ceiling as water gushed out of palms. Several months ago, on the frightful day that the Apparation system went haywire, Ron had ran towards Hermione, shouting with happiness, having not seen her in hours…but he had managed to trip and fall into the fountain. Shivering, Ron climbed out the pool soaked through to his bones, his face burning with mortification…and much to Ron's and many onlooker's shock, the fountain had pointed at him and boomed with laughter.

"It was extremely embarrassing actually, Ronald." Hermione grinned. Ron craned his neck, looking over the sea of heads and cameras, still watching the marble veela. Her slate eyes blinked into life as her face titled towards him. She winked before looking up as usual and stopped moving.

Ron scoffed. "The bitch still recognises me," he said under his breath.

The couple joined the end of the queue for the elevator, watching hundreds of paper planes clamber past each other over head before they started banging simultaneously against the closed doors, demanding entry. "Our one mutual day off and we're coming into your department," Hermione said.

Ron smiled. "We'll go straight to café rouge after I grab my folder. On the plus, we get to say hi to Harry."

Hermione smiled back as the two finally climbed into a packed elevator. "I'm still worried about him, you know."

"…me too, babe." The red head replied, frowning.


When Hermione and Ron finally stepped out of the elevator on level two, they locked fingers and walked side by side.

The couple turned one corner and went through a pair of giant wooden doors. There used to be dozens of tiny cubicles sat next to each other, row after row with newspaper clippings stuck to the walls and parchments and spells flying in every direction however two years ago the entire Auror department had been revamped after a petition against the lack of space and privacy had threatened to go underway.

"Should I be going in elevators?" Hermione asked, sounding worried.

"…What do you mean?" her husband asked as they walked, knowing he would probably regret asking.

"I mean, is it good for the baby?" she said, genuinely concerned as she rubbed her ballooned belly.

"Uh, I don't know, Herm-"

"Because, if you think about it, it's an enclosed metal space, rising and falling with just magic holding it up therefore has very little physical stability and it's filled with compressed air that has probably been festering, some of it, for a good few hours, well, judging by how lapse magical maintenance has become, so really I-"

"-Hermione?" Ron interrupted, halting in the corridor.

The pregnant woman stopped and asked, "Yes?"

"You're hardly going to use stairs, are you?"

A pause followed as Hermione deliberated this. "No, I guess not…"

The Weasleys were so engrossed in their conversation that when they turned a corner, Ronald collided into a man walking towards him. The other, also distracted, was walking so rapidly that he managed to make quite an impact, forcing Ronald to jostle onto the floor,

"IF YOU HAD HIT MY WIFE, I SWEAR TO MERLIN I WOULD HAVE-" Ron stammered at the top of his voice like a mad man as he pushed and scrambled on the ground, blocking out the slight throb in his side from the collision. Only when he noticed his wife consoling the other man did he register who he had knocked into. He should have figured it out, he saw so much blonde. "Shit, Malfoy, mate, you alright?"

Draco Malfoy had been sent backwards, hitting his head against the corner of a wall before falling to the floor himself. The accountant winced, adding head trauma to his list of problems. When he heard the Weasleys rambling, he waved a dismissive hand in their general direction and muttered, "I'm fine."

He tried to get up only to be forced to sit back down by both Hermione and Ron who were in turn tutting and saying words of disapproval. Draco was breathing heavily, blood was rushing to his face, his head hurt, his palms felt clammy and he really wanted to get the fuck out of this entire floor since his brain was screaming Potter knows you love him, Potter knows you love him, you're fucked over and over again but Granger and her stupid tubby husband would not let him. Draco rolled his eyes, wondering what it was with the golden trio and not letting him get up.

"I'm fine," he repeated, louder this time. He winced at the sharp twinge in his crown.

Hermione noticed Draco's discomfort so knelt down beside him. "Draco, just calm down, alright." Hermione said tenderly, watching the blonde glance around and shake.

She frowned, knowing Draco was troubled. Only after she scooted carefully onto the floor next to Draco and signalled angrily to her husband to join them, did she ask, "So what's been happening?"

Draco turned a worn out, hurt face to look at his friend, hoping his expression would convey somehow that it was not good. It was sweet, them sitting with him like this. In some pretentious way, it was almost poetic. He sighed and felt his stomach and eyes ache. He was tired, drained, heartbroken and wanted to go to bed and not leave his house or see anyone. Draco glanced at Ronald and saw that he too was waiting intently.

He turned back to Hermione and rubbed the back of his head. "I told him, Granger." Draco said in a feeble, reluctant voice.

There was a pause before Hermione, wide eyed, took a deep breath and replied, "…You did?" She looked in another direction.

"I did," the young man replied.

There was silence between the three.

Everyone knew they should not be silence. Everyone knew someone should say something so they would not hear the distant sounds of muffled carpet footsteps or the movement of heavy elevator doors or the ministry's old magic purring in the walls. All three knew that words of comfort, rationalization or banter were needed: that is what acquaintances do in situations with too much feeling.

Draco chuckled humorlessly at the awkward silence. "And now I'm here, on the floor outside his office, with you two."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. There it was.

Ronald bowed his head, biting his lip, wanting to defend his friend by saying Harry was just being silly, childish or anything else that he called Harry whenever he denied his obvious crush on Malfoy…but it was not quite enough. He kept quiet, feeling it was not quite his place to say something. Saying something would be him attempting to justify Draco's heart break; that was far to heavy for him.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth like a fish, hopping between angry, defensive and sad. After a while, she too decided to stay quiet.

They said nothing to each other. The couple who Harry knew best had nothing they could say to the man who loved him.

But suddenly, Hermione started to rut around trying to force her planet to stand up with her.

"Right…this has…gone…far enough," She huffed heaving herself upright.

"Wh-What do you mean?" Draco stammered, looking slightly worried and amused as he watched her from the floor.

Hermione rested her hands on the curves of her hips, trying to catch her breath after the surprisingly large amount of effort it had taken her to stand.

"This whole Harry being a prat business and me not being allowed to get to the bottom of it! It's reached its limit." Hermione looked between the bemused expression on her husband and the fake placid look of her friend's. She lifted a hand and pointed at Harry's door. "I'm talking to him about this."

Ron chuckled, knowing this should be interesting.

Draco instantly looked horrified.

"NO!"

Malfoy lunged and grabbed Hermione's arms, who in response tugged and damned her lumpy belly for tiring her out so easily. "Hermione, Her-, Hermione, listen, LISTEN, listen to me-"

Eventually, she stopped protesting.

"You promised you'd never say anything," Draco pointed out, holding her wrists looking deep into her brown eyes. Hermione looked into Draco's and felt a thousand anxieties.

"…You're suffering, Draco." She said, her lip quivering. The sad smile she got in return triggered something. Concern, rebellion, pity, fear, worry: she felt the burn in her heart, on a tiny scale compared to the reality, at the idea of how she would have felt if Ron had so out rightly pushed her away right from the beginning. It was so obvious Harry was infatuated with Draco and he loved Harry so much and yet Harry was acting this way and it made no sense and-

and-

and-

and it all became too much.

Hermione's jaw dropped as Draco and Ron looked at her apprehensively. Draco shook her slightly, glancing at her husband as he stood up. The red head shook her too, to which Draco said, "What? Is your shake better than mine?"

Ron subsided a snide remark on how stubborn and camp Malfoy sounded, as he started poking his wife gently. "Hermy?" Ron asked sweetly, tapping her cheeks.

The two men watched as Hermione turned her head rigidly and looked at Ron. She gulped and looked completely terrified before taking a deep breath and stuttering, "I…I think my water just broke."

Draco beamed. Ron did not.

"The…the...crowd downstairs…we'll never get out…" Ron said, eyes wide. Draco's grin faded as he looked between the couple, ensure of what they were talking about.

Hermione held Ron's face and muttered, "I know."


Note to readers:

A Weasley's on the way! And Hermione has been sworn to stay quiet, being the stirrer that she is. Oh god, I can't wait to write the next chapter myself :D

Review and comment. Any plot holes that needs explaining, do tell! ^^