My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.
Chapter 39: The Minister
The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, Britain, Wizarding World, December 22nd, 2005
"Thank you, Lavender."
"It was my pleasure, Hermione."
Compared to the polite exchanges between Hermione and Lavender, the meeting in Rye with his own parents which Dumbledore had arranged had been downright harmonious, in Ron's opinion. At least they weren't openly cursing each other - figuratively or literally, in this case.
He cleared his throat. "This roast is excellent, Mrs Weasley." It was - as good as his mum's, in fact. Although it was slightly different as well - which was a good thing. The resemblance was eerie enough already.
"Oh, call me Molly, please!"
"You're pretty much family," wizarding Fred cut in.
"Even if you're a little bit more removed than usual," his twin added.
"A little bit. Though it's nice to know our family is even larger than we thought," wizarding Fred added.
"Indeed. Though we'd have preferred if you'd brought your handsome older brothers with you."
"Boys…" Mr Weasley raised his voice a little and glanced at the kids at the end of the table. Who were not as busy with eating as they should be, Ron noticed - Jean and James were paying rapt attention. So much, in fact, that James' face looked as if he had missed his mouth with his fork every second time due to focusing on the adults' discussion.
"James!" Wizarding Ginny had noticed it as well and swished her wand. A moment later, James's face was clean.
Jean mouthed something to her brother - Ron didn't manage to read her lips, but since James glared at her, it was probably an insult.
"How are things at your department, Percy?" Mr Weasley asked in a quite transparent attempt to change the subject. "Did you manage to settle things with the Scandinavians?"
Wizarding Percy sighed. "Oh, no. They keep complaining."
"Complaining?" Hermione frowned. "About werewolf rights?"
"Not exactly," wizarding Percy replied. "They can't complain about discrimination these days, not after we repealed all the werewolf laws. But since Britain is now amongst the most tolerant countries with regards to werewolves, and we don't have blood feuds as part of normal politics, the Scandinavians have taken to complaining about us 'luring their werewolves away'." He shook his head. "There's nothing we can do about it. We couldn't limit immigration even if we wanted to since they can use muggle means to immigrate, anyway. Not that we would want to limit immigration after the war, of course."
"Oh." Hermione looked surprised.
"The Scandinavians should stop killing each other. That might stop their people from leaving," Mrs Weasley said. "Really, I can't understand how they can stand living like that - war's such a…" She shook her head and started collecting the empty plates.
Mr Weasley cleared his throat. "Indeed. Though our muggle counterparts - I mean, the British government - are a little concerned about the werewolf immigration. The number of wolf sightings has apparently grown so much that the muggles suspect someone has released some wolves into the wild. We've stopped several attempts to hunt them, but poaching might become a danger for those werewolves who like roaming through forests during the full moon."
"And that includes most Scandinavians," wizarding Percy added. "At least we've, so far, been able to enforce the mandatory Wolfsbane Potion requirement."
Werewolves in danger of being poached… Ron shook his head. "How many muggle police officers are aware of that?" he asked.
"None. So far, the muggle government's stance is that all the wolf sightings are merely hoaxes or sightings of particularly large dogs," Mr Weasley told him. "Apparently, they are concerned about werewolf, err, droppings, being found by muggle naturalists."
"Arthur! That's not a subject for dinner!" Mrs Weasley admonished him as she collected more plates.
"They're talking about werewolf poop!" Roger said, a little loudly, which made all the kids start giggling.
"Has anyone tested whether the leavings would register as of wolf or human origin?" Hermione asked.
"I don't think so," Mr Weasley said, frowning.
"I think you should," she said. "If they can be identified as human or some sort of wolf-human hybrid, then that could be a threat to the Statute of Secrecy."
"Really?" Mr Weasley frowned.
"I do hope that we won't be required to regulate werewolf defecation," wizarding Percy commented with pursed lips. "The Scandinavians would complain about that as well."
Ron tried to imagine Parliament debating a law about werewolf poop and snickered. Then he laughed. Soon, most of the others joined in.
The good mood - helped along by a few anecdotes from Mr Weasley - held until after dinner.
"No! Not sleepy!"
"Please, Mummy! Lemme stay. Take only James!"
"Can we sleep with Gran? Please!"
"Don't wanna go away!"
"No! Noo! NOOOO!"
Wizarding kids could raise the same sort of ruckus as muggle kids, Ron realised after dinner. Fortunately, settling them down wasn't his job - the wizarding families could and had to handle that. So while wizarding Ginny threatened Jean and James with Apparition if they didn't use the Floo Network like good children, and wizarding Fred, wizarding George and Angelina were looking for Beatrice, who had somehow disappeared inside the house - the grandfather clock still showed her as being inside - Ron approached Hermione. "Fancy a stroll around the pond?"
She smiled at him. "That sounds like a lovely idea." He offered his arm just as she added, with a glance to the side, where Roger and Victoire were crying at their pending separation: "Lavender's parenting is getting a little loud."
Ron suppressed his wince at that. Until they were out of the house, at least. "Well, the kids look like a handful. Mum would've blown her top long ago," he commented, watching Hermione out of the corner of his eyes.
She snorted. "Perhaps. Molly - this world's Molly - has a temper. Although she seems more lenient with her grandchildren."
"Isn't that traditional?" he asked.
"I suppose so."
"Something wizards and muggles share, then."
"Muggles and wizards aren't really so different," she told him. "Apart from magic, of course."
That was a big difference, in Ron's opinion. He nodded anyway. "It seems so."
They reached the edge of the pond. It wasn't frozen over, and Ron wanted to ask if there were spells to do that and make it snow. But this wasn't a stroll on the shores of the Black Lake. And he had something more important to discuss. He took a deep breath. "I had a talk with the other Ron."
"Ah." He felt her tense up, a little.
"Yes," he went on, "he didn't realise that Lavender might feel a little… threatened, by your return."
She snorted. "Lavender was always a little insecure while we were at Hogwarts. She couldn't stand my friendship with Ron."
"Well, you did get together later, didn't you?" he pointed out.
"Over a year after he had broken up with her," Hermione retorted. "And yet she's acting as if I'm about to 'steal her man'! At least this time she hasn't tried to threaten me."
Ah. He knew better than to ask how she would have reacted if she had been threatened. "It seems both she and the other Ron don't expect a relationship between a muggle and a witch to last."
She tensed up again. "What? Did he insinuate that I'll break up with you now that I'm back in my own world?"
"Not like that," Ron quickly replied. "He merely mentioned that it would be difficult to live as a muggle in the wizarding world. Or with a wizarding family."
She scoffed. "As if he has any idea about that - he grew up in the wizarding world!"
"He mentioned a squib cousin," Ron pointed out.
"And I bet he hasn't talked to them." She scoffed again. "Magic's the only difference between wizards and muggles - and technology is about as much of a mystery to many wizards as magic is to most muggles."
Ron wouldn't exactly compare technology to magic, not like that - anyone, including wizards, could learn how technology worked and could even, in theory at least, duplicate it, after all. But while Hermione did seem to underestimate the difference, she also didn't seem to consider that much of a threat to their relationship. Which was encouraging, at least. "What about accidental magic from children?"
"That's overblown," she replied. "Most children rarely use accidental magic, and if they do, it's something harmless. Like floating toys, or changing the colour of a pet's fur."
"Ah." That sounded a little less inconsequential than she seemed to think, but far less serious than Ron had, despite his words to his counterpart, feared. He nodded, then noticed she had stopped walking.
"Are you thinking about children?"
Oh. That question he hadn't expected. He should have, of course - Hermione was the smartest woman he knew. "Hard not to, after seeing all the kids today," he said, watching her reaction.
"Oh. I suppose so, yes." She seemed surprised, or so he thought.
"I am surprised that everyone seems to be having kids already," he commented.
"Harry always wanted a family," she told him. "And Lavender probably couldn't wait to become the perfect housewife."
Ah. He hesitated a moment, then remarked: "You seem to dislike her."
She narrowed her eyes at him - he probably hadn't been subtle enough. "She hasn't really changed since our teenage years. And we didn't get along then."
"But you've changed, haven't you?"
She snorted. "Perhaps not in that area. I still don't like her, and the feeling's mutual."
Ah. So much for sorting this out. He decided to change the subject before he hit a landmine. "You know, when wizarding Harry sent that glowing stag after us…"
"Oh, that's a good way to differentiate between counterparts!" She smiled. "I like the name."
"Thanks. Anyway, I was startled and drew my gun. Wizarding Ron hardly reacted," he said.
"Oh. Well, with most wizards, I'd say they didn't recognise the gun. Ron would, though - we talked about them during the war. I guess he doesn't see a difference between a wand and a gun, and since everyone's always waving their wand around…" She shrugged. "Or he didn't want to look afraid in front of you."
Well, Ron couldn't easily dismiss that theory - he would also hate to look afraid in front of his counterpart. Or in front of anyone else with a wand.
They had almost reached the house again. Time to talk about politics and similar problems.
But before they reached the back door, it opened and Luna rushed out, followed by wizarding Luna and the rest.
"Ron! Hermione! We're going to fly for a bit! Everyone's coming! You have to come as well!"
Flying? On a broom? Well, Luna had done it before, so it couldn't be too hard. Or too dangerous. And Ron had watched how wizarding Luna had instructed her as well. "Sure," he said. "We would love to." At the end of the day, who wouldn't want to fly like that?
"Ah…"
Apparently, Ron realised as he saw Hermione's grimace, his girlfriend wasn't overly fond of flying on brooms.
But Luna was already reaching for their hands. "Great! Let's hurry before the others grab all the good brooms! I want the same broom again!" she exclaimed as she started to drag them along.
They didn't beat Sirius to the shed, of course, but Luna managed to make them overtake Harry and Ginny before she released their hands and went straight to for the broom she'd used before. "This one's mine!"
They would probably have to check that she put it back before they went home, Ron realised.
"UP! Up and away!" And there went Luna.
"Which broom would you recommend?" he asked Hermione.
"I'm not an expert," she replied, looking at the remaining brooms with the same expression Ron had once seen on a member of one of the bomb squads.
"We could go back to the house," he suggested, "if you don't feel up to this."
He saw her lips purse. "These ones!" She pointed at a pair of old-looking brooms in the corner. "Cleansweeps are good, solid brooms."
They did look well-cared for, Ron noticed when he picked one up. But he could also see that there were several spots on the shaft where the finish had been worn down.
"They're safe," wizarding Luna told him. "Molly and Arthur would never leave broken brooms where their grandchildren could get at them."
"Ah." Ron nodded - that sounded like his own parents. And nothing he had seen from their hosts so far this evening had contradicted that impression. "Good, then."
"Yes," Hermione added.
"And Hermione can cast a Slowing Charm if anything happens, anyway," wizarding Luna went on.
"Slowing Charm? Like a Featherfall Spell?" Ron asked, before remembering that this Luna would have no idea about D&D, not having played the game with him.
"What? Oh, no! It doesn't conjure a mass of feathers but slows your fall directly. Much less of a hassle to clean up, and you don't have trouble if you accidentally conjure eagle feathers or something - American muggles have the weirdest laws, you know." Wizarding Luna nodded sagely.
"Possession of eagle feathers requires a special permit in the USA," Hermione told him as they left the shed with their chosen brooms in hand. "I found that out while researching magical traditions in your world."
"Ah." He dimly recalled hearing about something similar.
"So, in order to use a broom, you have to call it into your hand. Put it down on the ground - although not into the snow, of course - and call 'up!'," she told him.
He nodded. "I saw Luna do it."
"Ah."
He put the broom down - carefully, of course; he was about to take off on it - and held his hand out. "Up!"
The broom twitched on the floor. Ah, right. He thought of flying. Of soaring through the sky, feeling the wind in his face, free as a bird… "Up!"
The broom leapt into his hand, and he thought he could feel it exert a slight but noticeable force against his grip - like a dog pulling on a leash, to check if you were holding it. He took a deep breath and mounted it.
And the slight force increased, matching his weight as he slowly bent his knees until his feet left the ground and he was straddling a floating broom. Flying. He drew a sharp breath. He was flying.
"Don't pull up too hard," Hermione said, rather quickly. "Steady and gentle - a soft touch is enough. Just keep a tight grip on the broom."
That sounded a little contradictory, in his opinion. But she was the witch. And she had flown before - even though she looked a bit unsteady on her own broom.
He followed her advice and pulled slightly on the shaft.
The broom started to fly forward and upwards at a steady pace - faster than a walk, already. How fast could it go?
He leaned forward, as he had seen Luna do, and the broom accelerated. Oh.
He was flying. He was flying on a magical broom.
Elation filled him as he twisted his body and flew a curve. This was magic. He wasn't casting a spell, but he wasn't just drinking a potion either - he was using a magic item. To fly.
And it felt wonderful.
Luna was still bouncing on the balls of her feet half an hour later, when they returned to the house - The Burrow - and Ron couldn't fault her. Flying on a broom was fantastic. In more than one sense.
Hermione, though, seemed to be glad to be back on solid ground. Ron suspected strongly that if not for her pride and stubbornness - and possibly her earlier interaction with Lavender - she wouldn't have gone flying.
Being more comfortable than an actual witch with such an archetypical witching device as a flying broom was both amusing and comforting. Which was a little confusing, but there wasn't time to dwell on that. Now that the kids had been sent to bed and the adults returned, it was time to discuss more serious matters.
After dessert, he corrected himself as he entered the living room and saw the spread Mrs Weasley - Molly - had laid out on the dining table. It was a veritable feast.
"Pudding!" Luna - no, both Lunas - exclaimed behind him, and Ron barely managed to pull Hermione out of the way before the two women made a dash for the table.
A few minutes later, everyone was settled - and fed, in the Lunas' case - and things finally did get serious.
"We've settled on a cover story for the years I've been missing," Hermione said. "Amnesia from spell damage and having lived as a muggle until I recovered my memory should sound sufficiently convincing to avoid most inconvenient questions."
"There'll still be rumours," wizarding Ginny pointed out. "The things they spread about Harry and me..."
"That's mostly the work of all the jealous witches who either wanted to marry Harry themselves or wanted to become the Harpies' Seeker," wizarding Ron replied.
"We can deal with such rumours, as long as they're not endorsed by the Ministry or the Daily Prophet," Hermione said.
"Which is the same thing," wizarding Ron added.
"Quite." Hermione nodded. "So, with my cover story settled, that leaves the muggle friends I made while living as a muggle."
"Oh, hiding the truth by telling the truth!" Luna nodded. "Clever."
Perhaps a little too clever, Ron thought. On the other hand, the closer to the truth their cover story ended up being, the easier it would be to stick to it.
"Not many will care about any muggle friends you made," wizarding Percy said. "The real issue is politics."
"Yes," Hermione agreed, though she was pursing her lips a little. "I can imagine that my sudden return might be a little upsetting for some people."
"There aren't any Death Eaters left, and most bigots wouldn't dare bother you," wizarding Ron told her. "Aunt Muriel will probably be the worst you'll face. Of course, that's bad enough..."
"Ronald!" Molly snapped.
"Sorry, Mum."
"I was thinking of our esteemed Minister for Magic," Hermione clarified. And, Ron mentally added, probably of a few of the witches and wizards gathered here as well.
"Kingsley?" wizarding Ginny asked with a frown. "Why?"
"Missing and presumed dead heroes and heroines do not give interviews or talk to influential people to potentially contradict Ministry policy," wizarding Percy explained.
"But…" Wizarding Ginny wasn't the only one eyeing Hermione, Ron noticed. He also noticed that Mr Weasley - Arthur - and wizarding Percy didn't.
Hermione sighed. "I don't know everything I supposedly would have wished to be done," she said. "But I don't think it's inconceivable that I might disagree with some of it."
"We didn't make any changes that you wouldn't have supported," wizarding Ron protested. "We talked about reforms, remember?"
"Yes. And I trust you," she replied. "But we didn't really go into the kind of excruciating detail that is part and parcel of actually drafting legislation."
"And the loopholes for the corrupt politicians and their masters!" Luna added, nodding emphatically.
Arthur chuckled at that, though it sounded a little rueful. "The devil's in the details, as the muggles say."
"I believe we should bring Kinglsey into this," wizarding Percy stated, preventing what Ron thought was probably going to be a pointed question from Molly. "He is, after all, the Minister."
"Yes," wizarding Harry agreed.
"But only to discuss my return. He doesn't need to know about the portal," Hermione insisted.
"What?" Ron's counterpart looked surprised.
"He's a friend, Hermione," wizarding Harry told her.
"He was in the Order, like all of us!" Wizarding Ginny looked shocked.
Hermione seemed unfazed, but she pursed her lips. "I know that - that he was in the Order. But I never interacted much with him. And he's been Minister for seven years."
"What do you mean?" wizarding Ron asked.
"All politicians are corrupt to some degree," Luna declared.
"Leaving aside the question of whether or not completely honest politicians are possible," Dumbledore cut in with a smile, "there is certainly a conflict of interest. What is best for Wizarding Britain might not be best for our world - or for Dr Granger."
Ron could see that the comment, delivered without a hint of levity - the old man had a perfect poker face - set the others thinking. Thinking about possibly having to choose between Hermione and the Minister. Ron didn't know whether Dumbledore had planned to drive a wedge between the others and the Ministry or between them and Hermione, but either outcome would mean that Hermione had less support in the Wizarding World and would likely have to rely more on the old man.
And, a selfish part of Ron added, on himself.
He forced the guilt away and focused on the discussion at the table. "But Kingsley isn't Fudge!" Molly protested. "He is an honourable wizard."
"And what is the honourable choice for the Minister, if he has to weigh Hermione's wishes against the country's?" Dumbledore asked. "I am not familiar with local politics, mind you, but I can assure you that we've been taking pains in my world to keep the true nature of Dr Granger's research a secret. Otherwise, the government would most certainly seize it."
"They might even go as far as to press Hermione into service, even if they had to resurrect old naval laws for the purpose," Sirius added. "Of course, the Navy would likely attempt to take control of the portal in that case, no matter how far inland it's located."
Ron snorted - Sirius rarely let an opportunity to take a dig at the Navy pass. But that didn't change that, as Dumbledore had reminded them, they also had to deal with their own government back in their world.
"Kingsley won't curse us in the back," wizarding Ron said. "And he knows how much he owes to us."
Well, it seemed that Ron's counterpart had made his choice already. Not that it was a surprise - Ron had done the same, after all. Twice, if you counted overlooking Luna's various not-quite-legal shenanigans.
"But what about the Wizengamot? Or the Unspeakables?" Hermione asked. "Shacklebolt would have to keep this a secret from everyone."
"That's no more than what we'll all be doing," wizarding Harry replied. "And Kingsley is keeping other secrets as well."
The way everyone from the wizarding world reacted to that told Ron that they had their own dark secrets. But then, he couldn't imagine fighting in a dirty civil war and not having things to hide - if not on your own behalf, then your friends'.
"Everyone has a price," Luna said. "And politicians are used to making shady deals. That's how politics works."
"The Minister still hasn't exposed the Rotfang Conspiracy," wizarding Luna added. "Despite all the evidence Daddy delivered to him."
"Luna," wizarding Harry said, "we've investigated the Ministry, and we haven't found any trace of that conspiracy."
"That means they were warned and managed to hide all evidence. And that happened after we informed the Minister." Wizarding Luna pouted. "It could be a coincidence, though. We'll have to do it again to check."
Ron closed his eyes for a moment, wincing. Why had he ever thought Luna meeting her counterpart might be a good thing?
"Look," Hermione spoke up again, "this is about the need to know. And if we don't want the Ministry to get involved in the portal project, then the Minister doesn't need to know about this." Her tone made it clear that everyone had better agree that the portal wasn't the Ministry's business.
"But do we want that?" wizarding Percy asked. "If the portal gets taken over by someone, it's a major security risk. It could endanger the entire country - or even the world. The Ministry would be completely unprepared for an invasion through a portal. Or a dark wizard building up a power base in another world."
"On the other hand, having control of the portal - or merely knowing about it - will lead certain people to consider such actions themselves. Secrecy is a powerful defence, in my experience," Dumbledore pointed out. "After you vouching for him, I'm sure Minister Shacklebolt can be trusted - but can you say the same for his successor? Or their successor?" He inclined his head. "Governments change, after all. As do policies."
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "And trying to control the government to keep it from trying to control the portal is a very dangerous course of action."
"So is keeping the portal secret from the government," wizarding Percy retorted. "And once the secret gets out, a lot of trust will be lost." He looked around the table.
Ron pressed his lips together. He knew what the wizard was insinuating: A lot of people were already aware of the truth. Probably too many, if Ron were honest, to keep the secret indefinitely. But the alternative would have been keeping such important secrets from one's family, and that wasn't a good idea, either.
He snorted, and when everyone looked at him, he explained: "It's our own fault. We're just too big a family."
After a moment, everyone else started to snort and chuckle as well.
The levity was short-lived, though. "So, do we tell Kingsley the truth, or not?" wizarding Harry asked.
"I think Kingsley would understand not being told," Arthur said. "As Minister, he doesn't tell us everything, either. And he knows better than anyone else that the Ministry isn't perfect, and neither is the Wizengamot. Also, there's no law that requires wizards such as spellcrafters or potioneers to announce, much less release, their research. And, unlike with time travel or the creation of magical creatures, there is no ban on portal research. Because, I would wager, no one has ever done anything like it until our Hermione here. Although that's a technicality, and doesn't change that there's no legal requirement to tell anyone about the portal." He spread his hands. "And the precedent it would set - I can safely say that the Wizengamot would oppose any law that would require inventors and researchers to reveal their projects to the Ministry."
"They wouldn't repeal or oppose a law that would force just me to do so, though," Hermione said. "Especially if they knew what I was doing."
Arthur didn't contest that. But he had voiced his opinion, and Ron could see most were nodding in agreement, following the wizard's lead.
Well, just like at home - Dad didn't shy away from doing what he thought was correct. Even if that might require his considerable expertise in loopholes and technicalities.
Black Lake, Scotland, December 22nd, 2005
Mr and Mrs Granger weathered their first trip through the portal quite well, in Ron's opinion. They stumbled a bit, but they didn't look sick. Unlike everyone else he'd seen use it. Had the fact that they had grown up in a world with magic, even though they weren't magical, affected them? Or Hermione's birth? Perhaps they had some magic genes.
"Dad! Mum! Are you alright?" Hermione was at their side as soon as she had finished closing the portal.
"We're fine," her mother replied, steadying herself. "It's no worse than Apparition."
"And considerably more comfortable than a Portkey," Mr Granger added. "So, this is your laboratory."
"Yes!" Hermione smiled widely at her parents. "Well, technically, I don't own it, but it's here that I created the first working portal."
"And we're at the same location where we left, just in this world?" Mrs Granger asked.
"Yes, though there's a small vertical difference. Magic compensates, though. We're in the basement of an old resort at the Black Lake."
"Near the ruins of this world's Hogwarts?" Mr Granger cocked his head.
Ron saw Hermione frown in response. "Technically, yes. Though from what I can tell - we didn't examine the ruins thoroughly - the castle was much smaller and fell into ruins centuries ago. So they aren't really comparable."
"Kind of like The Burrow and my home," Ron commented. "Sort of - it's not as if The Burrow is in ruins."
"Without magic keeping it together, it would be, I bet," Mr Granger said.
"Do you live there?" Mrs Granger asked.
Ron shook his head. "I've got a flat in London."
"Which he rarely uses." Ginny had to cut in. "He spends more time at Grimmauld Place than there."
Ron rolled his eyes. He had spent more time there during their teenage years than Ginny - until she and Harry had gotten together, at least. And probably had done so again, once her career had taken off and she had started going on the WTA Tour.
"Anyway, I'd show you the guest quarters, but Mr Dumbledore has to set things up first," Hermione told her parents.
"We can't be seen by the government agents stationed here, right?" Mrs Granger said more than she asked.
"Yes." Hermione nodded apologetically. "But it's only for a night. Tomorrow, we'll return to see Shacklebolt."
Ron didn't like the possible implications of that. Did that mean Hermione saw the other world as her home? Duh, of course she did - her parents and friends lived there. She had grown up there. And… He shook his head. No, he was probably just overthinking things.
And here came Dumbledore and Grindelwald. "Additional guest quarters have been prepared," the former spymaster told them with a friendly smile. "And the path is clear, so to say."
Grindelwald, who's expression was much more guarded, nodded. "Be careful nonetheless," he cautioned them. "You can't trust the Secret Service." Dumbledore laughed out loud at that, followed by a thin, sardonic grin from his partner, so it was probably an old joke between the two old men. They were correct, though - with MI5 involved, they couldn't even easily contact their families and this world's Grangers to tell them that the portal was now working. "I heard you're meeting with the head of your government tomorrow," the German went on.
"Yes. Minister Shacklebolt," Hermione confirmed. "He won't be told about the portal, though."
"Not by you, at least."
"I trust my friends!" Hermione retorted.
"Do you know the saying 'trust but verify'?" Grindelwald shook his head. "But as long as your cover story lasts until we've finished our own business..."
"That will be taken care of right after Shacklebolt," Hermione told him with a deep frown.
"Good."
"Gellert is a little impatient. Quite understandable, seeing as he is stuck here and cannot follow us to watch our progress in person," Dumbledore said.
Grindelwald scoffed at that but didn't contradict his partner. "We're not getting any younger, are we?"
"No, but I expect to grow much older than previously expected," Dumbledore replied.
"Not unless you start eating more healthily."
"Touché." Dumbledore laughed again before turning to address them: "But don't let us keep you standing here when you could be catching up with Dr Granger in much more comfortable environs. I would loathe having you think we force her to sleep in her laboratory."
"We had to force her to stop doing that, actually," Luna said. "I think she had a bed in her lab in London."
"And enough MREs to eat for years," Ron added with a grin.
Hermione was actually blushing as she frowned at them. "I was focused on finishing my research as fast as possible." Still, she clearly knew that they had a point.
"Oh, I can imagine!" her mum exclaimed.
"And we're grateful," Mr Granger added. "Very grateful."
Both of them hugged Hermione again.
And despite his fears about the future, Ron was happy seeing it.
The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, Britain, Wizarding World, December 23rd, 2005
The Minister was late. That wasn't a surprise - one couldn't expect the leader of a country to clear his schedule for a few hours unless it was an emergency. Especially if one was trying to keep the reason for the extended meeting a secret, and it was the day before Christmas Eve. It still raised Ron's hackles. He preferred it if things went according to plan.
And waiting any longer certainly wasn't helping Hermione to stay calm. She was biting her lip so hard, Ron wouldn't be surprised if she hurt herself.
"It'll be alright," he said as encouragingly as he could manage.
Judging by the way she narrowed her eyes at him, he hadn't been encouraging enough. Or convincing enough. "Really? So you didn't have to come 'just in case'?"
Ah. Perhaps he had been a little too insistent. "Well, with me here, of course." He grinned at her.
She huffed in response and dropped the magazine she had been reading - or looking at for five minutes without turning a page - and grabbed another. "If he recognises you…"
"That's what the cover story about being a distant Weasley is all about," Ron replied. "And if he doesn't believe it, it would be better to find that out as soon as possible, and not after we're already invested here," he repeated an argument he had made a few times already. He didn't tell her that the real reason he wanted to be present for this meeting was that he wouldn't accept staying hidden while Hermione met other wizards and witches. He wanted to be part of all of her life, not some secret she kept from her wizarding friends.
She huffed again but didn't contradict him.
Ron picked up the discarded magazine - Witch Weekly? Really? - and started to skim it. Until he hit the main article titled 'The Minister on Witch Issues'. Which had a full-page picture of Kingsley Shacklebolt.
The Minister for Magic was an impressive looking man. Tall, broad-shouldered, stylishly dressed, for a wizard - and black.
Ron hadn't expected that. Wizarding Britain, as Hermione had described it and the few parts of it he had personally seen, had always seemed to be a more archaic and slightly fantastical version of Britain. One which included the deeply rooted racism and classism he was familiar with. Hell, they had had to fight two wars against wizarding Nazis who wanted to murder everyone not born to the right families.
He glanced at Hermione as he commented, in a casual tone: "I didn't expect that."
"Hm? What?" She looked up.
He held the magazine up. "A black Minister for Magic." Oh, the jokes Sirius would make once he heard about this.
She blinked. "Oh! I completely forgot about that. Skin colour doesn't matter nearly as much in the wizarding world as it matters in the muggle world. The Shacklebolts are an old, distinguished pureblood family in Wizarding Britain."
That sounded crazy. Especially with a name like 'Shacklebolt'. "And yet, the Death Eaters wanted to kill all muggleborns?"
"Yes." She shrugged. "They claim to care about magical ancestry more than anything else, of course, but it isn't as if they were anything but hypocrites - there were several half-bloods amongst them, including Voldemort himself."
He nodded - but he also took note of the fact that the new Minister came from an 'old, distinguished pureblood family'. If he were a muggle, he'd be a member of the upper class. Probably nobility.
Before he could ask about that, the fireplace across the room flared up, and a tall, black man stepped out of it, followed by Mr Weasley.
He had been forewarned - he didn't look shocked upon seeing Hermione. Though his eyes went wide anyway. "Miss Granger…"
She nodded. "Minister."
"I hate this," Harry complained again.
"We know. But it's necessary," she said, watching him pace as she sat in the only armchair in the room that let her keep an eye on the door. They were in the middle of the Ministry, but as they had been taught: You had to stay on your guard. Even surrounded by friends and supposed allies.
"It feels fake." He tugged on the sleeve of his new dress robes - cut to look like duellist robes. "This is fake."
She didn't roll her eyes. Sometimes, Harry's attitude could really grate. "It makes you look dashing," she told him. "And that will help get your message across."
"My message?" He scoffed. "The Ministry wrote my speech for me! They might as well just take one of my hairs and use Polyjuice Potion to replace me with an actor!"
That was because Harry's attempt to write a speech had been pathetic. Her friend was one of the bravest boys she knew, a talented wizard and quite charismatic, but a speechwriter he wasn't. She wouldn't tell him that, though - she and Ron had done so already, and Harry hadn't taken it well. Instead, she said: "Dumbledore approved the text." As had Hermione herself - but she wouldn't mention that either. "And it has to be you - people know you." Like those wizards and witches who had already finished their education after spending years with Harry at Hogwarts.
He scoffed. "Politics!"
"Yes. Something we cannot let Voldemort use against you. Not again. And the Ministry needs you. Now more than ever." What with Dumbledore slowly dying from a dark curse.
"I know," he replied, grinding his teeth. "But…"
He trailed off, and she stared at him until he sighed and looked away.
Good. They really couldn't afford to mess this up. Scrimgeour needed their support - for all his faults, he was determined to oppose the Dark Lord with everything he could bring to bear. Dumbledore had confirmed that.
And he would get all the help they could deliver, too.
