"WIZENGAMOT TO SUPPORT BARCLAY'S SO-CALLED "MARRIAGE LAW" IN RESPONSE TO RISE OF SQUIB BIRTHS
Leopold Weber, reporter for the Daily Prophet
The United Kingdom's wizarding community is still rebuilding itself two years on from the end of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's regime and his zealous followers. Though, now, the Death Eaters are hardly a serious concern for the population, it appears a new threat has begun looming over the heads of the still-recovering wizarding community.
Recent census numbers have indicated that squib births have been on a rise for several hundred years now without any sign of leveling out. Numbers for 1999 indicate that a staggering 8.7 per cent of births produced non-magical persons. This is nearly three times the total recorded in 1959. Preliminary studies have indicated that thousands of years of close inter-marriages amongst the pureblood populations is a major contributor to the issue. The Ministry fears a rise in non-magical, wizard-born persons will be disastrous for Britain's long term economic and political standing in the Wizarding World.
"A decrease in wizards and witches in our workforce will be vastly detrimental to the workforce," said Senior Warlock Pierce Trehar of the Wizengamont, representing Wales. "Whether it be in Cardiff's Pili-Pala Sgwâr to London's Diagon Alley, someone has to make the brooms, wands, and potions we use every day. Due to their lack of magical ability, squibs simply are ubable to fill the holes in the workforce."
Many ranking members of the Wizengamot, beyond Trehar l, have expressed a desire to take proactive measures against the issue. By slim margins, the members have voted to support Minster Anders Barclay's proposal to mandate marriages that would neutralize blood inequalities.
The law will require those witches and wizards aged 19 to 40 to enter into predetermined marriages.
"The Muggle World figured out long ago that generations of related people marrying and producing children can lead to physical and mental abnormalities as well as serious health risks," said Barlcay whilst making a case for his law to the Wizengamot. "For too long the Wizarding community has thought itself immune to those consequences, but the evidence is increasingly indicating otherwise. If we do not take action now, the fate of Britain's standing in the Wizarding World will certainly be bleak."
His arguments were strong enough to sway many undecided members of the Wizangamont to his side, culminating in a vote of 27 to 25 in favor of enacting the law, which will require pureblooded people to marry a half-blood or Muggle-born witch or wizard respectively. Junior Witch Della MacGuffey, of Scotland, accused the minister of forcing part of the population into a form of slavery.
"It is our job to protect the basic rights due all witches and wizards living in our jurisdiction," said MacGuffey. "The citizens of the United Kingdom's wizarding community deserve to have a say in their lives. Taking away the choice as basic as whom they marry, copulate, and reproduce with should go against the morals of every member sitting on the Wizengamot."
Junior Warlock Abrahms Rowie joined MacGuffey in opposing the legislation, but for very different reasons.
"It is not anti-Muggle-born to preserve the history and heritage of the long-standing pureblood families that have built this community," said Rowie. "This is yet another example of the Minister Barclay overreaching his authority to compensate for the deplorable actions of a small group that is no longer a threat. Must we continue to apologize for the actions of few in a faux-show of so-called goodwill?"
Members in favor of the law argued that, aside from offering exemptions for reasons of already being in a committed relationship, same-sex orientation, or having mental or physical issue that would prevent a child being produced, the Department of Mysteries asserts that they could determine the best possible matches for any given magical person through use of a complicated potion requiring a small amount of blood.
Public reaction has been largely negative to the development, but Barclay says he is confident that, once the process has begun and people meet their matches, the naysayers will settle down.
Immediately following the vote, the Ministry announced plans to contact all eligible persons by owl for a preliminary response, followed by another owl with instructions on where and when to go give their blood sample. Once all the samples are collected, the Department of Ministries will work their magic and alert people to their matches as they become available. Matches are to wed in waves spanning over the next 8 years, if not sooner. Although the Ministry says a child is required to be produced, they have not said how or if they plan on enforcing that portion. Barclay has said that failure to comply will result in indefinite excommunication from Britain's wizarding community.
It has yet to be seen if enough of the public will comply with the law for it to have its desired effect, but one thing is for sure: the minister is sure to lose some support from those younger wizards who supported his bid for Minister after Former Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt died unexpectedly last year."
"This is a load of shit," declared Charlie Weasley, throwing the latest issue of The Daily Prophet to the table. "Absolute dragon shit!"
"Charlie, language!" scolded his mother, Molly, although it was less commanding than usual.
"I'm sorry Mum, but this is an absurd thing to force on the population. How can they expect this of anyone?"
"You can't tell me there's no way to fight this," insisted Ron, the youngest of the Weasley boys, his eyes glancing around the table until they settled on his father. "They can't truly force us into this, can they? You're in the ministry, can't you do something?"
"The Department of Mysteries is a very secretive group," Arthur replied with a sigh. "The only person known to work there is the man who spoke to the Wizengamot and he's much higher on the food chain than I, or even Percy."
An uncomfortable silence fell around the table as Ron, Ginny, and George Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter reflected on the article in the paper.
"Ginny, Harry, what will you two do then?" asked Arthur, knowing that conversation needed to be had, and as soon as possible by the sounds of it. The pair had been seeing each for quite some time now but hardly seemed at the point of wedding bells. "Will you get married or try your luck with the Ministry?"
The pair looked at each other, unsure.
"I think," Harry began cautiously, his eyes on Ginny the whole time looking for any indication of what she felt. "I think we'll have to talk about it. I feel like marriage would eventually be in the plans for us by the way things have been going and I would rather know that I could get along with my wife before it all being said and done with." Ginny gave him a small smile, which made him smile in return. They felt they had a strong relationship and were both banking on a future together before this marriage law nonsense.
"You're lucky, Charlie, that you're in Romania now," Ron said, rubbing his face in frustration. "They can't very well force you to take part in one of these sham marriages. You can actually find someone you like. Hell, you could marry a dragon for all the power they have over you."
"And what about you, Ron?" asked his mother. "Maybe you and Hermione could…" She trailed off. Ron and Hermione looked at each other uncomfortably, neither quite knowing what to say but knowing that was not an option.
"That's not in the cards, mum. Unless the Ministry matches us, it's not going to happen." Hermione nodded along, confirming Ron's words. That shipped had sailed long ago. They knew a marriage between the two of them would be rocky at best.
Ron snatched the paper from where it sat in front of Charlie, crumbled it up, and threw it has hard as he could at the floor.
"This is insane!" he exclaimed.
The table fell into another awkward silence. Hermione understood his anger. They had put their lives on the line to protect Britain when the Ministry failed. They'd lost loved ones, she thought. And now they were being asked to sacrifice their lives in a different way. At what point did they get to be free?
George, who had yet to say a word, couldn't take being in the room any longer. He needed to be along and think. Gingerly, he pushed up from the table.
"I need to check on the shop," he offered up, his lame attempt at an excuse before walking out of the room. The roaring of the fireplace moments later told them he had floo'd away, probably back to his flat above the shop, possibly to a pub.
The situation might not have felt so bad if the twins were there to make light of the situation. Two years removed from the Final Battle, George was still struggling to find the humor in life. He knew now how cruel the world could be. Maybe this would not seem so much as another suffocating nail to his coffin if Fred was there. But, he wasn't.
It'd been one month since the Wizengamot voted to take away the freedom of thousands of young witches and wizards. Once Hermione had recovered from the shock of the council actually voting through the measure, she set to work trying to find any way out, a loophole of sorts, that would let her live her life, damn it. She had read book after book on wizarding law, pestered multiple Ministry department heads and Wizengamot representatives who couldn't not take a meeting with one of the more revered witches of her generation.
Their answers were all the same. There's nothing they could do, nothing she could do, nothing anyone could do. She could file for an exemption but unless she found herself a serious, committed boyfriend fast or if she were willing to try to convince people that she was mentally or physically incapable of carrying on a successful adult relationship, she was stuck. And she hated being stuck. If she had more time to research then maybe she could find something, but her time was up. And thus, while two of her best friends were planning a wedding for a match made of time and love, she found herself standing in a long line at the Ministry, every step forward another space closer to a prick of a finger and impending doom.
She tried focusing on other things, but the occasional "next" and nervous chatter from those around her kept her on edge until it was finally her turn.
"Good afternoon," she greeted the old man, trying her best to sound pleasant and polite even though she felt everything but. He slid a parchment form and quill her way.
"Fill this out, check that you've missed nothing, and then we'll send you back to the Healer," he said, his voice so monotone you'd never guess he was talking about something life altering like being forced into marriage. He barely even glanced at her as he shuffled papers around his desk. Hermione filled out the paper as quickly as she could, wanting to get this all over with as if it were a nightmare. As promised, it was one prick of her ring finger and she was on her way.
The whole ordeal was all anyone could talk about at the Burrow's Sunday dinner. George and Ron were going back and forth about who all from their school days they saw in line, while Hermione complained about the callousness of the ministry officials running things.
"It's going to be bloody hard to not just throw out the letters when they come," admitted Ron.
"Why don't you three bring them here and we'll be right next to you when you open them?" suggested Molly. "It might make it easier."
"No offense, Mum, but I don't think anything will make this situation better, unless the Ministry comes to its senses," George replied bitterly.
"Well, it was just a suggestion." The tinge of sadness in her voice coupled with the deflated look on her face pulled at Hermione's conscious. She was trying, after all.
"I'll bring mine when it comes," she offered.
"Lovely, dear!" Molly's voice picked up a bit. "We'll be here for you no matter what's in the letter."
In the month it took for the Ministry to gather the majority of blood samples, and, in that time, she was almost able to forget about the law, instead focusing her attention on helping Ginny get everything in order for her wedding as well as her current pet project: a history book detailing the second rise of Death Eaters and the return of Lord Voldemort. As painful as it was to recall, it was therapeutic; her way of ensuring future generations will know the sacrifice made by so many great witches and wizards and the tragedy that befell because of Voldemort. This was what she was working on when she was startled by a tapping on her window.
An unfamiliar owl was perched on her sill with a thin envelope. Unassuming on the surface, but Hermione was dreading what was inside. With the slightest shake in her hands, Hermione stashed the letter away in her desk. She was more than okay with pushing the inevitable back a couple of days until the Sunday dinner.
Across town in a small flat in Diagon Alley, a different Ministry owl was tapping on the window of a red-headed man who, despite the importance of the letter's contents, had no desire to see what was within.