CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO—Close Enough to Burn
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The Dark Lord had called this meeting to discuss the Ministry. His puppet, Pius Thicknesse, was not as effective as Minister as the Dark Lord had hoped. And few people had turned themselves over to the Muggle Registration Committee. Dolores Umbridge was not a Death Eater, but she would be welcomed with open arms, having suggested the idea to the Imperiussed Thicknesse herself.
"How will this impact the bounty on the Granger girl when she accepts one of our boys' proposals?" Crabbe asked.
"Her husband would be forced to turn her over to Umbridge or lose his wand, too," Nott grumbled. He was unhappy his son Theodore had been encouraged to throw his hat in the ring.
"I don't believe our Minister for Magic would allow that," the Dark Lord said with a slight smirk.
Thicknesse laced his fingers together on top of the table. His eyes were glazed over and he spoke at a slow pace. "My lord, Granger is already married—her name is no longer on the list of those who have been petitioned."
Draco's parents as well as Crabbe and Nott were visibly relieved. No doubt they would all petition the Wizengamot for an exception for each of their sons.
Most wizards would cower under the glares shot his way, but under the curse, Thicknesse had no care in the world. "All the unmarried Weasleys are still unmarried. I checked all the of-age Gryffindor students and did not find any others petitioned or married, my lord."
Their list was being cut down at an alarming rate.
"All the other houses, then," the Dark Lord said. This conversation would not hold his interest for much longer. Distracting Potter was a side-objective and not the main goal.
"I will check, my lord."
"Are not most of the Hogwarts staff single?" Narcissa asked Severus.
"Nearly all," he confirmed. This conversation, this unravelling of his lie, was his nightmare.
"Could the Ministry have given her a pass?" Lucius asked the head of the table at large.
Thicknesse shook his head. "She is married, of that I am sure."
The Dark Lord waved his hand, dismissing the topic. Severus tuned out the rest of the reports and placations and pleading and Crucios. He was treading an already thin line, getting thinner each time Yaxley used his Imperiussed Minister to get into the Department of Contracts.
The meeting ended when the Dark Lord abruptly stood from the table and swept from the room, as he was wont to do when he was in a mood. Lucius shoved a rolled parchment across the table.
"Your homework, Professor," Bellatrix said as she walked behind Severus. The mocking lilt to her voice was painful.
Severus pocketed the scroll. Others had the luxury and inclination to loiter and talk over the developments of the Dark Lord's plans. Severus went to the foyer and Apparated with no diversions.
…
Severus paced his sitting room. He had not been to the Ministry for years. There would be no explanation as to why he was in the Contracts division when one of his 'colleagues' invariably saw him there. He could not send Hermione to fetch their contract.
Perhaps Diggle, as the arbiter, could retrieve it?
Severus ran his hand through his hair.
Hermione entered from the bedroom. She bit her bottom lip when she saw him. With a quick glance through her eyes, Severus determined she had crept in here to abscond with one of his books.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
He was out of ideas. He crossed his arms and levelled what he hoped was an un-mean stare at her. "They'll figure it out."
"What?" She cocked her head. "They? The marriage?"
He nodded once.
She pulled her hair over one shoulder and twisted the ends. "I suppose neither of us can go get our signed contract. I could go in with some Polyjuice Potion."
He didn't even bother to scold her for how moronic that would be.
"So they already know I'm married?" she asked.
He nodded again.
"I'll just—tell them someone else." She shrugged. "Throw suspicion off of you."
That was not a long-term solution. Hermione and Severus left through different exits to get to dinner.
Alecto sat down next to him. Amycus spent more time glaring at Severus than chatting up Aurora, at the other end of the table.
"You left before we could nail down a time," Alecto said.
"For?" he asked.
She crooked her finger to bid him lean closer. "The Dark Lord's instruction to punish the Ministry for dragging their feet."
The two returned to a respectable distance apart. "I know you normally want us to stay out of these…events, but Amycus is insisting we go."
For once, luck was on his side. "What day, again?"
She gave him a smirk. "Tomorrow night."
He put his elbows on the table and leaned closer to her. "What time did you want to go?"
At the moment, he hoped Hermione was not watching him, but then he chided himself for the stupid thought. Watch or don't, it matters not.
"Nightfall suits me," Alecto purred.
"Then it suits me as well."