Twin Dragon Heartstrings.
Author: Ladyfun (with guest beta chrisdenvl).
Pairing: Bellatrix/Hermione...and...Fleur/Narcissa...and Gaby/Draco...and Neville/(secret). This damn thing's like a daisy chain!
Rating: M
Disclaimers: All of this (Ladyfun9 gesturing big wide circles over the computer with her hand) belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing, and this is all for non-profit fun.
SUMMARY: After the Battle of Hogwarts, the Golden Trio's messiah-like status changes their lives forever; only Hermione remains skeptical about their new fame. When it becomes obvious who the real leader was of the group, Hermione feels choked by her own fame and inexorably is drawn toward the last person expected: Bellatrix Black. Hermione loses herself to the dark mistress. Fortunately, things have a way of working themselves out. Endgame: Bellamione. (Thank to the content Beta, chrisdenvl)
A/N: So the first part is observed primarily through the eyes of a minor character, FYI, and involves a lot of 1st person/3rd person shifts... The second part is self explanatory. As usual, look "underneath" for comments and thank you so much for reading.
CHAPTER xx. Rites of Graduation
"Coach Black? You asked to see me?"
Professor Black looked up at the voice in the doorway from under a mound of exams she and Neville were grading, together. She gave the visitor a wan smile.
"Hey, Pansy Potter!" Neville said, cheerfully. He stood up, instinctively getting up to collect his things. Grabbing the stack from Bella, with a smile, he said to the tired Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, "Take your time, Coach. I'll finish these up in the next room."
"Thanks, Longbutt." Bella said, chuckling, her nickname for Neville amusing her still.
"Anything for you, Professor Strange." He smirked, in response. "So, owl me when you're done, Bella. I'll bring 'Em back."
"Thank you." Bella said, genuine gratitude clearly evident in her voice. Neville walked out, with a shy smile to Pansy, and shut the door behind him. Following Neville's departure, Pansy had a strange look on her face.
"What?" Bella asked.
Pansy Parkinson looked away,nervously. "Oh, uh...nothing. It's ... nothing, really."
Bella had an evil glint in her eye. "Actually, Parkinson, it's not nothing. What it is, is actually that you're wondering how on earth I could be so close to Longbutt given I killed his parents...sort of."
The young Slytherin looked stunned.
Bella tapped her forehead, with her Cheshire grin. "Master Occlumens and Legilimens!" Bella said, a meaningful twinkle in her eye.
Pansy looked mortified. "I'm sorry...Coa-Coach Black! I didn't mean to insinuate.." Pansy stuttered.
Bella rolled her eyes. "Oh, Parkinson, don't get your robes all in a twist! You should be more embarrassed about thinking my nickname for Neville, "Longbutt", is not as appropriate of a moniker as "Cutebutt" would be!" Bella looked at her mischievously.
Playing with one of her ringlets, Bella twirled it around her finger. She continued, amused. "My dear Slytherin, now that is an example of something worth being embarrassed about!"
Pansy was sure, now, that she would spontaneously combust.
"Oh, Beetlejuice...I'm so embarrassed..."
"Noted." Bella nodded, laughing openly. Straightening her expression, she said, "Well, then, before you slink out of the room, I have a few things to ask you."
The mortified Slytherin just nodded, in acknowledgement.
"I don't know if you heard about my plans, next year..." Bella started, nonchalantly.
Pansy nearly choked on her own spit. Really? Had she heard? Who hadn't heard of the formidable witches' plans for the upcoming year? The Profit alone dedicated the last 3 evening editions to the matter!
"I am, Coach, and congratulations. Seriously! I mean, what an accomplishment...you being the first witch ever to coach England's national team!" Pansy choked down the bitter pill she felt herself swallowing. "You must know, they're predicting a victory for England, for the first time in..."
Pansy's voice trailed off. She looked away, silently.
"Twelve years." Bella finished. She looked at the young woman in front of her, keeping an even expression on her face.
Pansy was attempting to harness the tears ready to spill forth, from her past. The champion from Hogwarts' felt sick.
Of course it had been twelve years!
Eight years ago, she heard the familiar mantra..."its been four years since England won a World Championship! We invented dueling! Its a crime, and you're going to deliver it to us!"
That was eight years ago.
Eight years ago, she fell from grace. Even today, the repercussions were still felt. England still hadn't recovered from the heavy sanctions imposed for her violation. The best duelists from England would defect to another team, hoping to compete for a contender.
It was a mess. Pansy thought, wallowing in all of these delved up emotions, all of these horrible feelings. With a flash of realization, her stomach dropped. Was that why she was here? Was her beloved coach going to bawl her out, for what was essentially her parents' blind ambition?
A loud sigh brought her out of her thoughts. Bella was looking at her, sharply.
"Firstly, P.P...no, I have not brought you in to chastise you for your idiot parents, and I am not going to bawl you out. While it is, indeed, a bleak situation that I will be inheriting, that is not your fault...not at all." Bella said, pointedly.
Pansy fought the stinging in her eyes.
"Secondly," Bella continued, "could you even try, just a little, to block me from your mind?"
Pansy shrugged. "Why bother? You'd get in anyway, Coach. It saves me the trouble of having to say some embarrassing things...out loud."
Bella nodded, impressed at the girls' thought out rationale. "Fine, then. Okay...thirdly, what are your plans for next year?" Here she paused, giving the Slytherin girl a curious look.
Pansy's stomach filled with dread, as her mind saw Gringott's Bank. Her father had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted her to follow in his footsteps at the bank. Purebloods need to keep an eye on those filthy Goblins! It is your call to duty, Pansy! He demanded of his young daughter.
Not once had he asked her what she wanted to do, next year.
"I don't have firm plans yet, coach." She said her eyes downcast.
"So, let me ask you then...how did you feel about the Hogwarts dueling team, now that the fat lady has sung, and you've had some time to reflect on the season, and all? What are your thoughts on the matter...how did it feel to you?"
Pansy's heart raced. Could Bella be offering her what she thought she might be offering her? She knew that Neville would be the interim defense against the dark arts teacher for Bella while she was on her sabbatical... it would be only natural for her to need to shore up her coaching obligations as well.
Attempting to calm her voice, she swallowed. "I ...I ...thought it was great. I forgot how much I loved competitive dueling, actually." She paused, thinking. "You know, I never really thanked you, Coach,for giving that back to me."
Bella scoffed. "Don't thank me, Parkinson. Me, I had no idea you knew how to do anything other than be a stuck up, overprivileged git!" She looked meaningfully at the Slytherin. "The person you should be thanking, actually, is my wife."
Pansy smiled. After enduring a long dueling season, she had grown used to Bella's unique style of rendering complements. "Thank 'Whineony' Granger?" Pansy laughed. "Don't worry. I've already thanked her...in my own, unique way. She knows."
Bella made a mental note to herself to ask her young wife, later, regarding the details of Pansy's statement Clearing her throat, Bella got back to the task at hand. "Wait just one second, Pansy," She said, gently. "I'm sorry, but if you think I'm getting ready to offer you the position of the Coach of the Hogwarts Dueling team, think again, Parkinson. You see, Kurt's older brother has already been offered the position, and accepted."
Pansy's heart sank.
Feeling dozens of emotions swirling up inside her, she wondered, why was she here, then? It would be much more prudent to go back to her room to prepare for her summer of being some goblin's bitch. Suddenly, her life was snatched away from her, again. It wasn't until she heard Bella's stern voice, that she broke out of her miserable thoughts.
Bella said, "Merlin's beard, Pansy! Quit acting like you've been given the damn Dementor's Kiss!" She shook her head in disbelief.
Pansy looked blankly back at her Coach.
"I mean it, Parkinson! You are going to need to toughen up, if you're going to be my team captain... next year."
Pansy's mind exploded. "What did you say?"
"What do you mean, 'what'?" Bella clarified. "Did I stutter? Or worse...did I misjudge you? Do you actually want to be some Goblin's bitch?"
"I...I..."
"Great! Her professional life's aspirations involve being a Goblin's Bitch, and now it seems, she has a speech impediment to top it off!" Bella sighed, theatrically, to Pansy's giggles. The Death Eater continued her gesticulating. "Note to self: no press for Parkinson, next year!"
Bella sounded stern, but Pansy saw the twinkle in her eye. Pansy laughed, initially. Then, she quickly felt the thing that always hung around her, dormant.
Hello, again, bitter pill. Pansy thought, glumly.
Bella's former athlete managed to croak out, "Coach...I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry...like you have no idea! Someone should have alerted you. I can't be on your team. I...I'm banned from competitive dueling, and from the national team. Lifetime sentence."
She kept her eyes down, refusing to meet her Coach's eyes, lest they reveal the expected disappointment that Pansy knew she would find.
The bitter pill. Never would Pansy Parkinson take it to the next level, despite her exceptional prowess. Instead, because of something she had no understanding of when she was ten years old, she was going to let down her role model, on top of it. Almost a decade ago, the French national team was so dominant, and Pansy's parents realized quickly that Pansy was good, but not that good. Not yet. Her parents, feeding off the thrill her victories brought, moved to England, re-inventing themselves in order for Pansy to make the English national team.
Until the house of cards fell down, and Pansy was gifted with the bitter pill she wore, even today.
Pansy's eyes drifted up, just in time. She barely averted being hit by a heavy paperweight Bella had chucked directly at her head! With a resounding thud, it landed behind the startled Slytherin, shattering to a million pieces.
"Damn! I loved that paperweight!" Bella sighed. "Look, Parkinson...I'm going to start throwing heavy things at you, each and every time you start feeling sorry for yourself. Yes, your story sucks. Move on."
"I don't understand, Coach."
"Understand that the objects will get progressively larger and heavier, going forward. Understand that."
What the fuck is she talking about? Pansy thought, as she reflexively ducked a fishbowl that narrowly avoided hitting her shoulder.
"Good reflexes." Bella nodded. Pansy looked at her, wondering if the rumors her Coach was mentally insane, were actually true. Bella stared back at the girl. It would appear they were at an impasse of poor communication. Then, a muffled voice was heard through the adjacent wall.
"Tell her, damn it, Bella! Stop leading her on!"
Pansy furrowed her brow. "Was...was that Neville?"
"I believe it was, indeed. It would appear that the disembodied voice was indeed Cutebutt, yes."
Pansy ignored the deliberate teasing. "What is he talking about, Coach? Tell me what?"
Bella was looking at her nails, indifferently. "Well," she began, sounding bored. "It would appear with all of the nonsense that happened this year, I apparently have some built some cache, as the future coach."
She looked meaningfully at Pansy, as she continued.
"So, as a condition of my hire, the IWAAC Athletic Counsel was required to lift the ban on one Ms. Pansy Etiolelle Parkinson, in order to procure my services as head coach bringing my winning ways to a dismal national team." Pansy's mouth inelegantly hung open at this revelation.
She sat, mute, as the Dark Witch continued talking. "So, what I'm saying, Parkinson, is this: I propose that you chose the title of "Coach's Choice," instead of "Goblin's Bitch," next year. I think it fits you better."
"Coach's Choice" was the one Mulligan; the Get-Out-Of-Jail Free card, the one play that made the team because the Coach "said so." they didn't have to qualify. Generally, Coach's Choice designation was awarded after tryouts, especially to prevent any flukes or ensure everyone was on the team that should be, in case something flukey happened at tryouts, i.e. someone who should make the team but didn't. However this is a new era, and Coach B did things different.
"I...I don't know what to say, Coach."
"Say yes, Parkinson, before I change my mind."
"YES!" She screamed, hurling herself into the arms of her coach. Tears were running down her face, as she gripped the woman who had made miracles happen. Bella uncomfortably patted her on the back.
Merlin's beard, she was not cut out for teaching! She far preferred torture to mentoring hormonal children!
Pansy pulled away, eyes wet as she looked at her former and future coach.
"I don't know what I can ever do to repay you, Coach, for this. Why, though? Why me?" She looked at her, shame deeply embedded in her voice.
Bella grabbed her chin. "Look at me, Pansy!" She said, harshly. "You are on the team because you deserve to be...for now. But you will have to work your ass off, to stay. You will have to be twice as good as everyone else, to be treated half as fair. It sucks, but it is what it is."
"Its more than what I thought I would get...ever."
"Someone very wise taught me a thing or two about second chances...and Great Merlin, the fool was stupid enough to marry me! However, what I learned from that experience, Pansy, is this: treasure those people who care about you and gave you that chance, and work your ass off so people forget it was a second chance, in the first place."
Pansy nodded, in understanding.
"So...how does the taste of Sweet Redemption sound, instead of that bitter pill so seem so partial to having around?"
"Fantastic." She exhaled. "But..." her voice trailed off.
"Why? Is that what you were going to ask?" The Slytherin nodded, yes.
Bella's voice became low, and dark. "Because I understand a thing or two about pureblood parents. About their ambitions...when it becomes pathologic, Pansy. I understand expectations and innocent children being put in an unwinnable situation. In short, I understand...you."
Pansy knew Bella was telling the truth, and giving the soon to graduate 7th year a rare insight most students weren't privileged to see.
Bella let out a breath she had been holding. "And on a superficial level, my God, us Slytherin's have to stick together!"
"What do you mean, Coach?"
Bella arched her eyebrow. "You'll see... " Bella said, pausing and rubbing her eyeballs, mumbling something about "all that damned happiness". Then, turning her head, she yelled. "Okay, NEVILLE!"
With a loud Crack! the door burst open, and Bella's office was decorated with streamers, balloons, and magically animated confetti in the colors of England's national team. In swarmed the entire Hogwarts' Dueling Team, with a few extra bits, Pansy noted.
Draco; Ginny; Brady; That Veela chick, the baby one...not the hot Beauxbaton's champion one from 4th year; and of course, Harry fucking Potter, himself, with that purple elf from the tournament in tow grinning his face off.
They were all smiling and cheering for her, whooping it up. There was a stand of butter beer in the corner of Bella's office, which everyone liberally helped themselves to that afternoon; all except Bella, who was already on the fire whiskey from the second drawer of her desk. Pansy laughed, catching Bella doing a shot underneath the table.
Then, much to Pansy's surprise, the actual hot Veela - the one that was a champion, that Pansy mentioned, walked in. The gorgeous Auror beelined directly for Bella, waggling her eyebrows as she tapped the pouch in her robes, meaningfully. Bella looked around furtively, and her eyes landed on her wife's, who was frowning at her.
She wasn't sure, but Pansy thought she saw Coach mouth a "Please" to Whineony Granger, who she saw literally throwing up her hands, before she theatrically stomped off, leaving the room. Coach was grinning at the Veela. Pansy could make out her lips mouthing the words, "That's a yes, Fleur! Let's go...second floor bathroom, quick! You disable the smoke detectors this time!"
The Veela was shaking her head with a grin. "Zat did not look like a 'yes', Mon ami délinquant!"
Bella shrugged. "Ehhh. Must have been lost in translation. C'mon!"
The hot Beauxbaton stopped, directly in front of her with a devilish glint. "Congratulations, Mademoiselle Parkinson. You deeserve et; bonne chance!" And then, she leaned in and gave her two pecks on the cheeks! Leaving with a grin, she said, "Make sure you hide all of ze weapons from Mrs. Granger-Black, s'il vous plait!" She blew a kiss at her sister, then left with Bella.
She smelled really good, Pansy swooned.
Pansy shook her head, laughing at Coach's antics. And now she would have a calendar year to observe them, up close, and personal! She couldn't believe her luck! What she really couldn't believe was all these people in the room that were sincerely, genuinely happy for her.
Then, Pansy froze. Saddling up to her left flank, was the object of her mortification...Mr. Neville "Cutebutt" Longbottom, himself.
"Hey, Pansy Potter." He said, quietly.
"Hey, Nevs."
"Enjoying your party?"
"Yep." She said, quiet. She looked around, painfully.
He was smiling. "So...you think I have a cute butt?"
Pansy slapped her forehead, willing herself a sudden death. "Merlin's shank, Neville! You weren't supposed to hear that! That was, like, girl talk!"
"Okay..." He said, slowly, pausing. After less than a few seconds, he asked, "Well? Do you?"
She gave him a furious look.
"You know, my derrierre?" He grinned, pointing at it, in case she was uncertain of the topic. "This one, here?"
She grimaced, wondering if Coach had Floo powder in her desk, along side the fire whiskey. Ignoring her mortification, Neville continued with the trademark Gryffindor bravery he possessed. "Cause, Pansy, if you do, you know, me and my attractive butt would love to take you out to Hogsmeade this weekend, to get something to eat...if you're not busy."
For the second time that day, Pansy was speechless.
"I...wow. I don't know what to say..."
He looked at her seriously. "I think Bellatrix's recommendation from earlier still holds. Just say yes."
"Um, okay. Yes?"
"Yeah!" He said, with a small fist pump. "Awesome! I'll go grab us two butter beers to seal the deal!" Returning with a goofy smile on his face, Pansy took the butter beer from him. They drank, quietly, for a moment, while the two watched, amused, as a slightly inebriated Brady, Ginny, and Draco attempt to tie something on Hermione that looked like a beauty pagent sash. She flashed them an angry look.
"Uh oh." Neville said, drinking his butter beer.
"Uh oh, what?" She said, drinking from Neville. "Thank you, by the way, for getting these."
"No problem! I meant, "uh oh" in the sense I recognized that look, from a pissed off Hermione. Someone's going to end up with a tail. It looks like, um, Brady will...maybe."
"No way." Pansy said, taking a large swig, as she made her prediction. "Malfoy. Definitely Malfoy."
"Why? He's nowhere near, now! I actually think he's taking a nap on Bella's desk."
"Because old habits die hard, Neville." She laughed as the boy looked shocked. "What? He is her favorite target!"
Neville couldn't argue that point.
"So. Neville? Who's idea was this party, anyway?"
He looked away. "Well, I guess I would have to say, Hermione's...and mine." His voice was so quiet she could barely hear it.
"Thanks, Nevs." She said, simply.
"You're welcome."
They stood there together, leaning against the wall, in comfortable silence. Pansy reflected on the irony, that this wonderful, thoughtful party was thrown together for her, by the two of most annoying epitomes of Gryffindor-ness alive, Mr. Neville Longbottom, and Ms. Hermione Granger-Black.
The two did this for her...the Slytherin that had been nothing but cruel to them in their first 5 years of school together.
But they did it anyway, because it was the Gryffindor way. All of that "goodness" could make a person's stomach turn, actually. Pansy suddenly realized what Bella meant by the Snakes sticking together. It made sense! You never wondered why someone in Slytherin did something for you; ultimately, it would be because it would benefit them in some way, sooner or later.
Simple. Clean. You understood people, in Slytherin!
But this? It was just weird. People doing stuff, for the sake of doing it, or because it actually helped someone else? With maybe zero reward in it, for yourself? Weird. All of those selfless principled ideals were just ...well, she was sort of at a loss for a way to describe it.
"Would you like to help me finish grading the 2nd year exams for Bella? I'm sure she's going to come back with Fleur, shit faced knockered and reeking of tobacco, as she does once a month, like clockwork. Then, she'll spend the rest of the night trying to kiss up to Hermione and get her to forgive her drunk arse, which she will at roughly 2am, at which time they will commence having wildly inappropriate marital relations, making the majority of the faculty uncomfortable that reside in Bella's wing. Then she'll waltz in to tomorrow, the final day of classes, having forgotten about the exams altogether."
"Wow, um. It sounds like you've been through this before, Neville."
"Naaaa." He shrugged. "Just a good guess." He laughed, drinking his beer.
Pansy laughed, equal parts horrified at his nerdiness, and equal parts attracted to it. She felt her crush on Neville ratchet up another notch.
"Sure, Neville, I'd love to help. Why not?"
The sincerity with which he looked at her took her breath away. Good lord, Pansy thought. In that moment, she really, really knew what Bella meant. It was like going to bed, speaking Swahili, and waking up, speaking Mandarin Chinese!
She and Neville burst out into laughter, as they saw running to the bathroom, wobbly, a cursing Draco with a tail, Brady with Donkey ears, and Ginny with sign saying "Deposit Galleons Here" and an arrow pointing to her bottom. Pansy wiped the tears from her eyes, she was laughing so hard.
"Granger's stepped up her game, a notch!"Pansy noted, in appreciation.
Oh, my....Dealing with these Gryffindors...Merlin's beard! It was so foreign - all this damn sincerity and kindness! Yet here the snakes gathered in their den, like moth's to a flame: Draco, Brady, Bella, even Kreacher, for Merlin's sake, all inexplicably drinking the Gryffindor Kool Aid! She shook her head, wondering if Salazar Slytherin was turning in his grave, somewhere. As she looked away, the letter of Bella's appointment to the National Team caught Pansy's eye.
Neville's eyes followed hers. He spoke softly. "She's doing it for you, you know, just like she did it for Hermione."
"What?"
"Coaching."
"I hardly think-"
Neville cut her off. "She hates coaching."
Pansy looked confused. "But...she's so good at it!"
"Isn't she though?" Sighed Neville. "But that's cause she's good at fighting, Pansy. She's never dueled before, in a athletic environment. Never once, in a tournament. She hates it with a passion."
"What? You've got to be kidding me! She's so good! She's such a great coach! I just assumed..."
"That she played for someone before? I know! So I did some research, and I was right! Not a single round. In fact..."
He lowered his voice, speaking in hushed conspiratorial tones. "...Quiddich was her sport."
"What?" Pansy said, as though she had just caught her longtime spouse in bed with another woman. "Wussiddich? No way!"
"Way."
For the 11th time that day, Pansy felt herself asking "why" to the boy. He anticipated the question, and answered before it was asked.
"When Bella knew it was her or someone else that was going to have the responsibility to train Hermione, do you really think Bella would trust that to someone else?Especially when something like Hermione's life hung in the balance?"
Pansy chuckled. Not a chance!
"And when the opportunity came, to fix your Achilles heel, Pansy, was she going to let that pass, even if it meant spending a year doing something she hates?" Pansy realized the magnitude of what Coach Black had actually done for her.
Neville looked at Pansy, who was finally registering understanding. "The point is: when Bella lets you in, you're in like Flynn. You're gold. She will do anything for the people she cares about, Pansy, and you're one of the lucky few."
She looked at him evenly.
"Well, she adores you, Neville. What did she do for you?"
He bristled. "Its not about keeping score, Pansy."
"I didn't mean that as harsh as it sounded, forgive me. I meant it more along this lines of... I know she cares about you a lot. Teacher's Pet." She smiled.
He nodded, looking away, his eyes hard. "I meant it when I said its not about keeping score. Coach has given me more than any teacher at Hogwarts has, ever. She's been really great to me. She gave me confidence. But...there is something that she gave me, in terms of something material. "
He looked away. "She got me the two wands that were the actual ones responsible for addling my parents minds." He said, quietly. "Fleur and Gaby think there is some old magic that can reverse the last spell rendered from a wand. Their coven is working on it."
"Woah. But that was years ago, Neville. Haven't they cast a million spells, since?"
He looked at her dead on. Pansy knew that Neville was just as loyal to the Dark Mistress as she could ever be to him. His eyes flashed. "Yes, it was, years ago. Good thing she risked her life, years ago, not much older than us...to nick them, the very night it was done. She put them in her vault, in a box that only I could open."
Pansy touched the older boys cheek. "That was very brave of her."
He nodded. "She's the biggest Gryffindor of them all, Pansy."
She rolled her eyes, making a vomiting gesture. He arched his eyebrows.
"Really, Miss Parkinson? I heard about what you did for Hermione! A little birdie told me what happened. Methinks Bella's not the only lion here, dressed in snake's clothing!"
She meant to be insulted, she really did. A Gryffindor? Puke!
However, mustering up appropriate affrontedness was a tad difficult for Pansy, what with "Cutebutt's" lips pressing down on hers, as they were, sharing their first kiss together.
Yep.
Right there, smack dab, in the DADA classroom,for all the world to see. Pansy didn't care; she wasn't embarrassed of her sweet nerd who couldn't duel to save his life, yet earned a varsity letter anyway.
It would appear that Pansy Parkinson, 7th year Slytherin, just wasn't afraid, embarrassed, or ashamed, anymore.
How very Gryffindor of her.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Excerpted from the May 30th evening edition of Daily Prophet:
FINAL DAY OF THE GRANGER-BLACK CONFIRMATION HEARINGS FOR MINISTRY UNDERSECRETARY CONCLUDE!
"Golden Girl" Hermione Granger-Black Passes The Test, Dazzles Whizmagott
By Bobby Bonham-Carter, Special to the Profit
(WHITEHALL). After a grueling session that has resulted in over 45 hours of direct and indirect testimony, protests and rallies for support out side of the storied building housing the British Ministry of Magic, the Confirmation Hearings for Ms. Granger-Black have finally come to a close. It has been an epic hearing, filled with the wizarding world's brightest stars, and most influential leaders. No star, however, was shining as bright as the Wizarding World's first Female All-Around Dueling champion, and decorated war hero herself, in the final afternoon of her confirmation hearings today.
Ms. Granger-Black "handled" the more senior members of the Whizmagott as though she were in her element, back on the dueling piste. In a move that will undoubtedly be written about for decades to come, the Golden Girl was provided a bottle of Veritaserum by none other than the Minister himself, and verified as such independently by three of the sitting members of the Whizmagott, chosen at random.
In a risky move, later proven to be successful, Ms. Granger-Black voluntarily imbibed the contents of the Veritaserum bottle, immediately preceding her question and answer sessions. The bold move, called "Brilliant!" by one Whizmagott member, and "Cheeky" by another, allowed Ms. Granger-Black to be fully candid about some of her more controversial views and alliances.
And candid she was.
When asked why she performed this action, the potential future Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic shrugged it off, as though consuming something akin to Pumpkin Juice instead. Ms. Granger-Black was quoted as saying:
"I drank the Veritaserum for the simple fact I wanted there to be full disclosure. I have no secrets, I want no questions to linger, at the start of my term. People had legitimate questions that needed to be answered, and people needed to understand my words contained the truth. There's simply too much work to be done for any baggage to be brought to this office. So I chose to prove I was telling the truth, be it good, bad, or ugly! Hopefully, it didn't fall in the latter category!"
Ms. Granger-Black gave a charming laugh to punctuate her final statement.
To others, she was quoted as saying, "I want a certain degree of Honesty to be expected of our public officials, starting with me."
The nominee has allowed Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry to release full transcripts of her detailing her outstanding performance on the N.E.W.T.s; and little argument exists among the Whizmagott members in regards to Ms. Granger-Blacks' aptitude for the job. That appears to be universally understood. Although her contributions in the last Wizarding War are legendary, the war veteran has put to rest definitely anyone who would possibly question the nominee's mettle, after her recent performance at the All-Around finals in Greece last month. It is clear she has the fortitude and the mind for the job.
Rather, the dissent revolves around three issues: first and foremost is her young age at eighteen. Secondly, is her controversial marriage to the former Death Eater, double agent, decorated War Veteran, and the Dueling Coach of the Year, Bellatrix Black. Black, recently named coach of England's Dueling National Team for next year's World Tournament, seems to ignites controversy, it would appear, at every turn. Her wife's lack of diplomacy skills may prove to be a major hurdle for the nominee. When Ms. Black took the stand two days prior, her controversial responses are still being discussed around Great Britain's bubblers today. Chiefly amongst them was her response to the question by a senior member when asked to provide an example of why her wife would be good at the job. Ms. Black offered the following rather disturbing answer:
"Ehhh. An example. Hmmm. Well, what pops to mind is that I can tell you, I personally have Crucio'ed her, somewhere in the range of 17-18 times in my life. Not many survive that! But hey...she's still standing, and I'm reasonably certain she's not insane. So there ya go, your example. She's tough."
As a follow up question, the member asked, "Professor, when you say you "Crucio'ed" her, are you referring to an Unforgivable Curse, The Cruciatus Curse?"
Ms. Black's rather insolent reply was that she was unaware of any other Crucio curse other than the unforgivable one, and confirmed she was aware it was an illegal curse.
The member then asked, "When you say you "crucio'ed her", was that within your time as a double agent for the Order?"
"Mostly."
The Whizmagott member looked justifiably started to this reported, when he clarified the following: "Am I to understand that you have crucio'ed her outside the settings of wartime?"
Ms. Black said, "Understand whatever you want, Mr. Whizamagott. I remind you...I am not the nominee. My wife is. And if you fail to approve her nomination, know that you will pay for all the lives lost she could have saved in this rat-infested Ministry."
As gasp when through the room at her last statement. The member appeared to be nervous under the stare of the former Death-Eater and Undercover Order Member. When he asked her if that was a threat, Ms. Black openly laughed. Her final quote before she abruptly left the stand was the following:
"A threat? Oh no. My threats are always crystal clear. No, consider it more of ... a prediction. So, I've done my part. Did you ever think you'd live to hear Bellatrix Lestrange say, 'Vote for the Muggle-born, she's a good shit?' Well, I am, and now, I'm done here, I have work to do."
Ms. Black then disapparated from the stand, returning to her post at Hogwarts, where she currently is tenured as the Dueling Coach and as a Professor of the Dark Arts, and widely regarded as an excellent teacher, to this reporter's surprise. Despite her less than enthusiastic reception by the Whizmagott, however, public opinion clearly has spoken. Her last comment has caught the national Zeitgeist, with young people all over the country sporting T-Shirts reading "I'm done here, I have work to do!" Other T-Shirts seen include: Consider this a prediction! and "My threats are Crystal Clear." Should Ms. Granger-Black be confirmed, there is no doubt her charismatic yet controversial wife will provide the media juicy sound bites for years to come.
Finally, the most daunting issue remains Ms. Granger-Black's very public viewpoints on creature equality, something that only 39% of the wizarding world approves of in a recent opinion poll. This may be the single issue that blockades the nominee's approval.
Under a veritaserum oath, she confirmed that she is related by marriage to a magical creature, her sister-in-law, Narcissa Black Delacour, nee Malfory; discovered recently to be a Veela of Italian descent. She confirmed she had several close acquaintances that she considered best friends who are magical creatures; these associations include Fleur Delacour, presently an Auror for the ministry; Kreacher and Winky, both house-elves in Hogwarts' employ; Hagrid, an instructor from Hogwarts who is half giant; Draco Malfoy, a rare 1/4 male Veela. She stated that she did not consider wizards and witches who transfigured as creatures, notably the headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall herself.
When asked if she herself had any magical creature blood in her, she replied "No." When she was asked if she transfigured into a magical creature, the candidate again replied "no." Her answers appeared to satisfied the majority of the panel; however when asked why in the world would a full blooded witch, with no creature blood or relatives, care so much about creature rights, she replied back the following:
"Because I possess both a brain and a heart, that's why."
One of the oldest members of the Wizmagott, Mr. Louix, could not seem to get past the idea. He asked her to expound, to which Ms. Granger Black said thus:
"If you would, sir, let me offer this example. You head to Hogsmeade, where you see a man steal a rare book from the wonderful bookstore, Flourish and Blott's. It's stealing! You know its wrong. Yet, he did not take your specific textbook, sir, off your person; yet, you still knew it to be wrong, without having suffered the crime yourself, correct? To say one has to be a creature to care about creature rights, is silly! I stand by my statement: I possess both a brain, and a heart, therefore, I see and know oppression of this kind to be wrong. Simple as that."
Mr. Louix retired any further questions after her reply.
Ms. Granger-Black handled the controversial topics of her candidacy with ease, as though a seasoned political veteran. When asked later in the afternoon yet again about her unpopular view on creature rights, the nominee bristled. "I'm not running for Yule Ball Queen," she reminded the Whizmagott. "I don't care about being popular. I care about doing what's right, what's lawful, and what will sustain our futures. I care about history, posterity, and future generations looking back at our generation and remarking, "Yes. They got it right." If we begin to make laws on the whims of the moment, instead of using our moral compass to guide us towards what is right, ethical, and the greatest good, then we have sadly failed as lawmakers."
In detailing her experiences with Mr. Harry Potter in the war, her recent experience in Greece, and the loss of her friends and family in the war, Ms. Granger-Black soundly reminded even the most jaded members of the Whizmagott that true experience knows no age. Several members were noted to have tears in their eyes, as well as onlookers to the proceedings, this reporter included. For four hours this afternoon, Ms. Granger-Black weaved a compelling tapestry of charm, facts, and hope for the future that fit like a warm sweater. This reporter predicts that not even the return of You-Know-Who would prevent the juggernaut that has become Ms. Granger-Black's campaign from succeeding in the final vote tomorrow.
Hail the new Undersecretary! (Or else).
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Excerpted from the June 1st evening edition of Daily Prophet:
GRANGER-BLACK CONFIRMED AS NEW SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY TO THE MINISTER BY A LANDSLIDE!
"Golden Girl" Hermione Granger-Black Becomes the Youngest Candidate and First Female Ever to Assume the 2nd in Command Post
By Bobby Bonham-Carter, Special to the Profit
(WHITEHALL). After a all the votes were tallied, it was decisive. Like anyone who faced her on the dueling piste, Hermione Granger-Black has emerged, once again, victorious. Earlier today, in an overwhelming 52-6 vote, the Whizmagott approved the candidates nomination, thus making history. Senior Undersecretary Granger-Black becomes the youngest official to hold the post, as well as the first female.
The undersecretary's position has long been viewed as the real minister of magic, as they are in charge of all the administrative operations of the entire ministry and remain functionally in charge when the actual Minister is obligated elsewhere for ceremonial or diplomatic purposes. Precisely two months ago, the current minister, Kinsgley Shacklbolt, appeared to consolidate the Senior Undersecretary's power further, when he abolished the position of "Advisor to the Minister," dividing up those duties amongst the junior and senior undersecretary.
Ms. Granger-Black walks into a department deeply steeped in debt and rumored corruption, but she laughs this off, reassuring this reporter that "she's faced worse." She is quick to add she has a lot to learn, however, and takes her learning curve very seriously. When asked what she is going to tackle first, her comment to this reporter was the following:
"Graduation! Then, a honeymoon. Then, we'll see after that."
This reporter thinks you should stay tuned readers, for Madame Undersecretary has spoken!
*In a side-related note, Flourish and Blott's Booksellers in Hogsmeade reports that following Ms. Granger-Black's comment deeming them "wonderful" at yesterday's hearings, sales at the bookstore have increased by 168% as of this printing.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Rosemerta was a brilliant businesswoman.
Following Hermione and Bella's previous debacle, she had created a room in the Three Broomsticks that, for an extra fee, could be made available to the customer willing to procure it at a steep price.
However, it was totally impervious to infiltration, reporters, anyone. The wait staff agreed to have their minds obviated following the service, so they had no recollection of who they served. Arrangements were made to Floo directly into it, so the patrons at the regular pub never saw anyone enter or exit. It was also guarded, externally, for an extra fee by Aurors wishing to moonlight for some extra cash.
She was brilliant- it was a cash cow.
As fate would have it, there are a lot of people that value some privacy, and Rosemerta became secret keeper to some of Britain's most influential and famous people, for a variety of reasons. Tonight, however, the room was gratis, and Rosemerta herself was personally was providing the service. It was the least she could do, since Bella herself helped design the elaborate network of wards protecting the room that had never been breached. Plus, she had to grudgingly admit she kind of liked the crazy Slytherin.
She brought in some vintage fire whisky from her personal stock to the three odd bedfellows. Focusing on the beautiful dark haired Slytheryn, attempting to hand over an inappropriate amount of galleons, she shot off.
"Put your money away, Black, its no good here! Just come help me reinforce these, sometime next week. And pay me back some of those cigars you and your little Veela buddy keep taking from me!"
"You shouldn't lose in poker, RM" She replied, simply.
"I think you two cheat."
"You know we cheat. We tell you we're cheating! That's hardly a revelation." She snorted.
Rosemerta shrugged, as she slipped out the door, shutting it discreetly. Rarely did she care what patrons in "Rosemerta's Room of Requirement" discussed; however, tonight was an exception. What she wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall!
Inside, the three patrons looked at each other. The woman across from Bella gave her a disapproving look.
"Smoking is such a disgusting habit, Professor Black. You must know that."
The beautiful dark witch arched her eyebrows. "Really? Of all my vices - the incredibly large catalog of vices from which you could select - and that's the one you chose? The one I do once a month with my BFF and Rosemerta? Really?"
"Ive given up hope about the others, frankly."
The dark witch cackled. "Good decision, Minerva." Bella chuckled again, as she set her jaw determinedly pouring out three shots of fire whiskey, raising hers to toast.
"I propose a toast." Bella said, simply. "To Mission...Completion." She slammed it down, her eyes bugging slightly. "Woah."
"Hear hear!" Kingsley Shaklebolt said, taking his glass, and downing the innocuous shot glass. He immediately began sputtering and coughing.
"Chin-chin!" Minerva agreed, finishing hers in one gulp, not flinching. "What? It's just fire whiskey, you lightweights! Anyway...we did it, unbelievably." The headmistress said, allowing herself to sound tired. "Phase II is complete. Hermione got her swagger, and Hermione got confirmed, sailing through the hearings. Done and Done. So, moving on: Kingsley, how long do we have left?"
He shrugged. "Not long."
Bella looked at him, eyes hard. "How long is "not long?" Forgive me Shakes, I need actual hard time."
"Between twelve to fourteen months."
Bella spit her fire whiskey out. "What? Months? Hermione only has 12-14 months? Have you gone mad?"
Minerva looked alarmed, as well. "Kingsley, that's a steep learning curve, even for her."
The Minister looked at them, sadly. "Trust me, no one wishes I could give her more time than I do. Trust me! Plus, there is the reality of I have no idea how it will be at the end, either. If its bad, you're looking at even less time, practically speaking."
Minerva put her hand on his arm, looking at him reassuringly. "Of course. We know that. I think this means we need to accelerate our timeline, however." Minerva said, softly.
"Accelerate it?" Kinglsey asked. "How so?"
Minerva had a knowing look. "You know how so." Turning to look at Bella, she smiled. Bella instinctively knew what her mentor had in mind, and her heart thrummed with happiness. She looked eagerly at Minerva, practically radiating excitement.
"Bellatrix, the day you've been waiting for, so painfully, I think is finally here..." Minerva poured herself another shot of fire whiskey, and drank it before finishing her statement. Dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin, she looked back at the eager dark witch.
"...it's time, Bella. We've done what we needed to do. There's nothing left to hold it up anymore... Bella, you are free to release the Dragon!"
TBC.
