Chapter Two
May 25, 2003
Controversial Breeding Program Approved; Azkaban Inmates to Undergo Testing
Despite a number of outspoken critics of Minister Umbridge's new plan to institute breeding amongst the inmates serving a lifetime sentence in Azkaban, the program has been formally approved by the Wizengamot. One hundred percent of the inmates incarcerated for the remainder of their natural lives signed up to be a willing participant. A large percentage of the inmates are likely to be approved and an ideal biological match found for them, but for those unfortunate inmates who do not qualify under the stringent guidelines set forth under the program, they will be remanded back to their cells to serve the remainder of their sentences. When asked about the possibility that not all inmates would qualify, Minister Umbridge…
It only took Hermione about five minutes to grow weary of the poking and prodding that came with the examination in her cell. Without warning, early that morning a team of Healers were escorted into their cellblock by annoyed aurors. Any change in routine was welcome to the inmates. They had had years of days passing where one was exactly like the previous. Even Walden Macnair stirred from his thin bed to see what the fuss was about.
The Healers moved to Hermione's side of the cellblock first. She could hear the sound of the door opening in Hannah's cell. A quick glance across the narrow corridor showed a worried Thorfinn Rowle standing at his bars watching every single movement within. Hannah assured him with a warm smile and a soft word that she was all right. Not satisfied, Rowle did not move an inch.
Hermione didn't have time to worry about what was happening next door before she had her own Healer entering her cell. No explanation was given for their presence on the cellblock. It was so strange to actually see other people inside the space she'd been forced to call home for five years.
"What are you doing?" she asked the moment the Healer pointed his wand at her and began muttering under his breath. "We've never been given an exam before. What's happening?"
Neither the Healer nor the auror assigned to guard him from the dangerous criminal made any effort to put her fears at ease. They didn't even seem to notice she was speaking. Hermione couldn't help but be unnerved. No one had touched her since she was dragged from the floor of the courtroom to be thrown inside her cell.
"What are you looking for? Is this something to do with the program we signed up for? Why won't you answer me? Is everyone…"
Finally fed up with her questioning, the auror flicked his wand to silence her mid-sentence. A loud laugh from across the corridor startled her before she could get too angry about her change in circumstances. Dolohov was apparently enjoying the show immensely.
"If I'd had the ability to perform that spell, the past five years could've been almost bearable."
Lucius scoffed from his cell not even caring that he had his own Healer and auror standing with him.
"The only thing keeping you sane, Antonin, are your daily arguments with Hermione."
"Lucius is right, Dolohov. You'd be curled up in the corner sucking your own thumb if you didn't have her," added Hannah.
Hermione laughed silently. She was surprised Hannah was being so bold. There were flashes of time when she was almost the same person she used to be at Hogwarts. To distract herself from the examination she had no control over, Hermione looked up to see Thorfinn Rowle still standing at the bars of his cell smiling at Hannah. She rolled her eyes and looked away. Hannah and Rowle were a frequent topic of conversation and ridicule amongst the other inmates on their cellblock. Hermione even usually joined in the teasing, but only because at times she was so jealous it was hard to see straight.
"You all right over there, Hannah?" asked Rowle.
"I'm fine, Finn. The tests are just a little uncomfortable."
Her next door neighbor had to agree. The Healer continued poking her with his wand in various part of her body. Instead of asking her to lift the ratty nightgown that was her only source of clothing, he just pulled it off of her body, leaving her completely naked and exposed. They didn't even have the decency to treat her like a human being. She was nothing more than underfed livestock in the eyes of the Ministry. The purpose of all of the testing wasn't even clear. Hermione was forced to drink a foul potion that made her insides feel like they were coated in ice.
None of the jabs of the wand and the irritating feel of the tingling spells prepared Hermione for the moment the Healer pushed her down on the bed roughly and demanded she spread her legs. Absolutely horrified by the request, she refused. What woman in their right mind would agree? When she clamped her thighs together, the Healer sighed in frustration. Hermione's instinct to struggle took over. The auror was called to hold her in place as the Healer attempted to conduct a rather intrusive gynecological exam.
"Don't struggle with them, Granger."
The clear concern in Dolohov's voice startled Hermione enough to stop struggling. Was the wizard who seemed to enjoy making her miserable for the previous five years actually sympathetic? She clenched her teeth and didn't move until the Healer was finished.
Examining everyone in the cellblock didn't take much longer than an hour. Only as the last of the Healers and their auror bodyguards departed did the auror responsible remove the silencing spell from Hermione. She was able to shout out a few choice insults about the sexual proclivities of his mother before the door to their block slammed shut. More than one of her neighbors was amused by her outburst.
"What a delightfully, filthy mouth you possess, Princess," teased Rowle with a wink.
"Is that how feisty you get every time a wizard slithers between your thighs?"
"Fuck you, Dolohov."
"Remove these bars between us and I'll be glad to."
Hermione glared at the wizard across her cell. If there weren't any bars between them, she felt almost certain she would've strangled him in his sleep. She turned away from the leering pervert to focus on the discussion the rest of the prisoners were having.
Everyone was at a loss as to why they would be given any kind of medical attention to begin with. A Healer had never come close to their cells before. Prisoners were never offered medical care. Not even when they were close to death. Old Man Nott only lasted six months after the final battle before Ginny discovered him dead in his cell. It took four days before anyone came in to remove the body. No, a prisoner's health was not a high priority in Azkaban.
June 3, 2003
Azkaban Breeding Program Set to Begin This Week
Minister Umbridge's plan to help combat the declining birth rate will begin later this week. Sixty-four inmates of Azkaban Prison were selected following a series of tests and exams proving them to be capable of the task of providing magical babies available for adoption. Each participant has been paired up with a partner deemed to be the most compatible…
Days passed after the examinations with no answers from the outside. Each of the inmates on Hermione's cellblock had their own theory of the purpose of the unannounced visits. Theories ranged from the absurd to the disturbing and everything in between. All seemed to be of the same opinion that whatever it was, it had to be better than rotting in a prison cell for the rest of their lives.
"Unless we are being taken somewhere to be used as guinea pigs for excruciatingly painful curse experiments," Hermione suggested.
"Why, Princess, you are certainly a right ray of sunshine, aren't you?" said Rowle with a laugh.
Hermione rolled her eyes and chose to ignore the nickname Rowle bestowed upon her in another life when she was just a first year at Hogwarts being tormented by a cruel seventh year Slytherin. He had been a little too excited to learn that their cells where within speaking distance years earlier. Much like he had when they were students together for that single year, he seemed to still enjoy taunting her until she grew red in the face and screamed at him. At least as adults it was almost entirely good-natured.
"Don't tell me none of you have considered the possibility that we will be taken somewhere and put in some comfortable home and given lots of good food to eat just so the sick fucks who control the Ministry can perform experiments on us without feeling too guilty about it. We will probably be force-fed horrible potions that will rot our insides, but it's okay because we'll get served pudding every day."
"Oh, give it a rest, 'Mione," said Ginny. "Even if I die in excruciating pain testing out new potions, it will be a better way to go than just sitting in this cell waiting for the end to come. I might live a hundred more years stuck in prison. I'd rather die quickly."
Ginny's opinion seemed to be shared by the majority of the other prisoners. Even Hermione had to admit there was a certain appeal to dying in a horrific accident than slowly losing one's mind with boredom and loneliness. It bothered her more than she was willing to admit how much the human touch she'd experienced days earlier during her examination jarred her to her very bones. No one had touched her in years. Only her fingertips could slip between the bars separating her cell from Hannah's and Lucius'. Though she had never been what one might consider a touchy-feely person, there was something soothing about human touch. She missed it. Her cold, clinical, and intrusive exam hardly qualified. All it did was remind her of what she was missing.
They were all enjoying their daily afternoon naps (there was little else to do each day after all) when the sound of the door out to the main corridor opened loudly. Every single inmate jumped up to their feet, worried what was about to happen. Just as they had on the day they were all examined, no explanation was given for the appearance of the aurors. Every inmate was charmed into heavy chains before the doors to their cells were opened.
The aurors began pulling all of the prisoners out of their cells. Angry with the wizard who grabbed Hannah's arm too roughly, Thorfinn rushed past his own escort to knock his large body into the offensive creature. At least seven or eight inches over six feet tall, Rowle was as intimidating physically as any of the aurors were with their wands. Hannah's auror was knocked to the stone floor with Thorfinn's firm chest. Before he could stomp on the downed man, another auror struck Rowle in the stomach with a stinging hex.
All of the excitement was quickly squashed once Thorfinn was restrained. He might have been willing to knock off the two men holding him back if it wasn't for the pleading expression on Hannah's face and her quiet plea for him to calm down. The Hufflepuff was clearly something a snake charmer. He gave them no more trouble on their march down to the lowest level of the prison.
Hermione felt Lucius brush his arm against hers. She appreciated the gesture. Her anxiety must have been written all over her face as they walked through the corridors none of them had been down in five years. Just feeling his presence next to her helped immensely.
They were led to a large circular stone room on what must have been the lowest level of the entire prison. Dozens of chained up prisoners were already inside. While still keeping close to the other prisoners from her cellblock, Hermione scanned the room for familiar faces she had not seen in years. It only took her a few moments to catch Ron's eye. Her stomach lurched at his tentative grin. While it was good to finally see him again, he looked sickly and different from the boy she remembered. She had to force herself to turn away before she cried.
Lucius was doing the same thing she had been doing. His eyes were wide and he was looking at all of the assembled prisoners. He relaxed slightly when he saw Draco near the entrance. Father and son caught each other's eyes and smiled. Both broke their look at the same time to continue their scan of the room. Hermione had a good idea just who Lucius was looking for.
"I don't see her anywhere," he said in a petrified whisper. His grey eyes were wide and threatening to overflow. "She's not here."
"I'm sure she's here somewhere, Lucius. Maybe she just hasn't come in yet. Look, more people are coming."
Hermione had to turn away from the worried wizard before she got upset right along with him. Dolohov was standing just slightly in front of her and to the left. His entire face was set in a scowl. Following his line of sight, she saw the cause. A smiling Alecto Carrow stared in his direction. While she had always been an odd-looking woman, one of those creatures who could either look very attractive or very unattractive with little room in between, prison had not exactly agreed with her. She seemed much older than she did only a few years earlier at the end of the war. Her attempt to wave at Dolohov with her hands in heavy chains was unsuccessful.
"Old girlfriend, Dolohov?" Hermione asked. She was finding the situation more amusing than was probably healthy.
Dolohov fixed his glare on a different witch. Though she had been a witness to that same expression countless times in five years, it was different when they were only inches apart. She cleared her throat and resumed her survey of the room. So many familiar faces and yet they were all so very, very different. Kingsley Shacklebolt still stood tall and proud, but there was a hint of defeat in the set of his jaw that only those who knew him best were likely to notice. Everyone looked so awful. Hermione could only imagine that she looked just as dreadful. Only Luna Lovegood seemed the same. A little dirty, perhaps, but still happily chatting to a wizard Hermione was fairly certain was Rodolphus Lestrange. He smiled indulgently at her dreamy friend. Likely they'd been in the same cellblock together and he was used to her.
When the last of the prisoners were pushed into the room by the aurors, the doors slammed shut. It was an ominous sound that did little to settle Hermione's nerves. All of the prisoners within stopped talking at the same time. A break in the inmates near the door revealed a small platform where a familiar toad-faced witch stood with an infuriating smile on her unattractive face. Hermione wished she could strangle Dolores Umbridge's thick, pudgy neck with her bare hands.
Umbridge cleared her throat with the same hem hem noise she used years earlier when she was the most ineffective Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in Hogwarts' long history. The horrid woman tapped her throat with her wand to allow her voice to carry. In the same voice that haunted Hermione's nightmares, she announced to the room that she was their Minister for Magic. Hermione was horrified. What had their society come to if that was the choice for their Minister?
Quickly, she went through what sounded like a prepared speech of what the inmates could expect from the mysterious program they had all volunteered for. Later that day they would be moved to a small, Unplottable island nearby where they would all be issued small two-bedroom cottages which they would share. Regular meals would be provided by a team of Ministry house-elves. They would all have access to the finest Healers that St. Mungo's had as well as access to the vast Ministry library. There would be much fewer limitations on their movement on the secure island. Walks outside were going to be highly encouraged. All in all, it sounded entirely too good to be true. Hermione just knew there had to be some awful catch.
"I am sure you are all very curious about what you will expected to contribute to this program. Well, it's very simple. Because of the rampant violence that has affected our society thanks to the likes of dangerous criminals like each and every one of you gathered here today, we are experiencing a shortage in magical births."
Hermione felt like something reached into her gut and began squeezing her stomach. She had an awful feeling that no one was going to like what else came out of the toad's mouth.
"You have all been selected to be a part of the Ministry of Magic's Magical Breeding program."
The outrage was palpable. All over the room there were cries and shouts of outrage. Hermione turned her attention to Lucius. His eyes were focused on the floor and he appeared as if he was about to be sick. They once had a discussion why Draco was an only child. It had certainly not been a conscious decision on his or Narcissa's part. His wife had been unable to carry another child to term once Draco was born. Her absence from the room suddenly made sense. Clearly she would not qualify for some sick, demented breeding program. Hermione tried to reach over to pat his hand in some gesture of comfort, but the chains would not allow much movement. When her sleeve brushed against his, he looked into her eyes with a tearful expression. He was a man entirely without hope. There must have been something in Hermione's face to give him the courage to turn towards the Minister.
"I am a married man!" he shouted.
Umbridge simpered when she saw who made the loud declaration. All eyes were either turned on Lucius or on her. Hermione longed to curse the bitch for her reaction. Lucius' love for Narcissa was still quite strong even after five years of not seeing each other. How could he be expected to move into a cottage with some other woman to breed children for the Ministry? It was unconscionable.
"I'm afraid the Ministry does not recognize any marital bonds of prisoners serving life sentences. The moment you crossed the threshold of the prison, Mr. Malfoy, all bonds were broken. You are all property of the Ministry and as such, we have the authority to do with you as we please."
"I will not be a part of this!"
"I am afraid you have no choice, Mr. Malfoy. By signing your name to the parchment that circulated through the prison, you gave your vow that you would agree to the terms of the program. Seeing as this is a breeding program, you have been assigned an appropriate witch. You are not able to leave the program unless you both agree to leave together. If you choose to quit, you and your partner will have no chance at ever being released from Azkaban. Is that truly what you desire, Lucius?"
He sighed in utter defeat at the terms of the agreement. Refusing the program would not only ensure that he would never be released from prison, but it would also prevent some other poor soul from being released too. Hermione knew him well enough to know that Lucius would not be able to live with that on his conscience. He finally had to admit defeat. With her arm pressed up against his, even with the chains she was able to hook her smallest finger with his. They both needed whatever hint of comfort could be provided in that moment.
Satisfied that she had control of the room once more, Umbridge went into a long-winded explanation of what was to be expected from each of the participants in the breeding program. Hermione couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she would be expected to provide children for the Ministry. What kind of fucked up society had the deaths of Harry and Lord Voldemort created? Just as she explained to a heartbroken Lucius, both partners were only allowed to leave the program if they agreed. Leaving the program meant they would be thrown back in Azkaban to live out the remainder of their days. If one of the partners died before their conditions were met, the survivor would be sent back to Azkaban until a suitable replacement was found. Unless, of course, the dead partner was killed by the surviving partner. It seemed to behoove everyone involved to keep their partners healthy and alive.
Every couple was expected to provide ten healthy children to the Ministry. Once their tenth child reached their first birthday, they would be paroled. Hermione was horrified right along with every other person in the room. Ten children was an insane condition. How could anyone be expected to have that many?
"All participants were chosen for their ability to produce healthy, magically gifted children. Squibs will not be counted in the number if one if produced. Squibs will be left with Muggle authorities."
Umbridge sneered at the word 'squib'. Each time it rolled off her tongue she grimaced like the word actually tasted foul.
"All participants will undergo a strict routine of fertility potions immediately. I advise everyone in this room to not refuse the potions. The sooner you are able to produce children, the sooner you will be allowed to rejoin polite society."
There was an unnatural silence in the crowded room as everyone tried to wrap their minds around their expectations. Hermione did not even want to contemplate the emotional issues that would spring up around being forced to hand over her children to people approved by the Ministry that were likely horrid. That was a problem for another day. She compartmentalized that fear to focus on the most pressing one. Somewhere in that room was a man she was going to be expected to breed with.
She highly doubted the Ministry of Magic would do something as clinical as in-vitro fertilization. Years earlier when she was still in Hogwarts she remembered there being a series of articles that ran in Witch Weekly about the dangers of witches and wizards using Muggle fertility methods to produce magical children. It seemed that an overwhelming number of the children born to the desperate, childless couples were born entirely without magic. There was a belief that only conception through sexual intercourse could actually produce a magical baby. Something about the father passing his magical essence through his sperm at the moment of ejaculation. Truthfully, Hermione was entirely too young to be reading such articles. No, they would be expected to conceive in the old-fashioned way.
Who was she paired up with? Surely they would take into account biological and magical compatibility to pick their couples. It was the only thing that made sense. She was terrified to know who her children's sire would be. What if he was someone awful? Someone she couldn't stand? She hoped and prayed to whatever deity might be listening that she would end up with an Order member at least. Ron wouldn't be bad. They were best friends once upon a time. Even Dean or Anthony or Michael would be okay. She didn't think they would treat her badly. If she ended up with a Death Eater, all bets were off.
"Following the examinations that were conducted, we have been able to determine the best possible matches between participants to ensure the highest probability that success will be had. Mr. Malfoy, seeing as how you were so vocal earlier, we will start with you."
Lucius gulped loud enough that everyone within several feet of him could hear. Hermione did what she could to tighten her grip on his finger. The chains allowed almost no movement.
"Lucius Malfoy, you will be paired with Ginevra Weasley."
His entire body tensed at the announcement that he would be expected to live with, copulate with, and produce children with the young witch he almost got killed years earlier in his failed attempt to discredit her father. Lucius' entire body then sagged once the news was fully digested. Hermione caught Ginny's wide, frightened eyes only steps away. Though they had come to a form of a truce living in the cells next to each other for five years, this was another situation entirely.
"There are thirty-two couples selected," Umbridge continued. "Once all the names are read and you are aware of your partner, everyone will be moved to the island. Each couple will share a cottage with another couple. They have all been assigned. Mr. Malfoy, if you and Miss Weasley will step outside the room."
Hermione released her limited hold on Lucius. He could not even look at Ginny as they walked through the gathered crowed. The other inmates were polite enough to part the way for their exit. Once she was satisfied the first couple to be selected was outside, Umbridge continued.
"As I call your name, please step outside of the room. You will both be given a portkey."
She began reading through a list of matched couples. Each name that came up made Hermione's stomach clench in fear. Part of her wondered if Umbridge wasn't deliberately leaving her name for one of the last names as a form of cruel torture. It would make sense.
Luna Lovegood was paired with Rodolphus Lestrange. Hermione would've been worried about her dreamy friend if not for the awed expression on Lestrange's face when he stared in Luna's direction. Somehow she got the feeling that Luna would be all right.
Thorfinn and Hannah were matched together to their great relief. It seemed that even in the midst of an impossible situation, they were going to make the best of it. The blond couple tried unsuccessfully to hide their pleased grins as they made their way out of the room.
When Walden Macnair's name was paired with Cho Chang's, Hermione was both worried and ashamed of herself. She could not help the overwhelming relief that came over her when she realized she would not be paired up with the wizard who was notorious for his violence towards women. Poor Cho looked sick at the thought that she would be expected to live with the grizzled, frightening wizard. It seemed to take her longer than anyone else to make the long walk out into the corridor.
It was hard to miss the sigh of utter contentment that came out of Dolohov's mouth when Alecto Carrow's name was matched with Ron's. Obviously there was a history between the Death Eaters that he was not keen to repeat. Hermione met Ron's eye as he walked out. He wasn't pleased with the turn of events either. The woman had to have been at least fifteen years older than him. Perhaps the Carrows were known for their fertility. Or perhaps, it was the Weasley genes that would ensure they would be able to produce the requisite number of children.
Soon there were only a few people left in the room. Hermione continued to hope that maybe she would be paired up with someone that didn't make her skin crawl. Lee Jordan would probably be okay. She and George would definitely argue, but they would be able to make it work. As each of them were paired with witches not named Hermione Granger, she began to lose hope.
Her assumption that Umbridge would save her for last turned out to be accurate. The Minister smirked down at Hermione from her elevated position. It wasn't necessary for her to announce out loud the cretin she would be expected to procreate with. He was the only wizard left in the room.
"Finally, Hermione Granger and Antonin Dolohov."
He looked over his shoulder with a smirk. If Hermione had access to her wand, she would not have hesitated to hex his face after his infuriating wink in her direction.