4. Reactions and Preparations

The following weeks, after Harry sent the Ministry a letter where he accepted the deal the Ministry wanted to make, was some of the hardest in Harry's life. And with the life he had led, even before the war, that was saying something. It felt like he slowly, so slowly, was walking towards his own execution.

Hermione tried to listen and comfort him and let him talk about the feelings that were eating him alive, but the thought of losing him was hard for her too. To not even be allowed to believe, to hope, that he would survive in his marriage to Voldemort was crushing her. So, he attempted to hold back those beliefs, those feelings, even when she tried to insist that she was the one who had to be strong now. It wasn't she who would marry herself away for peace, and Harry was absolutely in the right to unload on her as much as he possibly could. She was able to get him to unload, almost against his will, a couple of times after he had decided to let her live in hope, at least, but other than that he kept his feelings to himself.

He held back the fear, the hopelessness, the rage, and the panic that woke him several times each night, often screaming as if he was burning alive in Fiendfyre. Those screams were new, even for him. Not the fact that he could wake up screaming, but the fact that it now happened every night, several times each night, while the sweat was pouring off him. Often his face was wet with tears too. He was not alright, not at all alright. And there was nothing he or Hermione could do. All he could do was to try to take the burden from her, who didn't have to bear it.

Hermione kept her word, of course, and looked through both the peace treaty and the marriage contract and together they made suggestions and even a couple of demands on the marriage contract. Several of the suggestions to the peace treaty were followed and all of Harry's demands on the marriage contract. When Hermione saw it, she hugged him hard. Maybe believing that it was a sign that he would get to live through this. Harry viewed it differently; why shouldn't Voldemort agree to Harry's demands? It wouldn't matter if he was going to kill him anyway.

One demand he didn't make was a guarantee that he wouldn't be harmed or killed. Hermione didn't mention it either. Maybe she wanted to hope that it was a given. He didn't want to mention it and get a refusal and thereby removing all hope from Hermione.

The Ministry didn't waste any time at all announcing that a treaty was under way and would be sealed by the marriage between Lord Voldemort and the Boy-Who-Lived, and the following reactions made Harry happy that he had put up wards that made it impossible for owls, or anyone else, to find him at the place he slept nowadays. He also got a little stumped by how many that still, still, had enough energy to react vehemently to such news. Unfortunately, that meant the St. Mungo's got all those letters, spewing vitriol and hate and harsh words and threats, more often than not. Hermione was almost brought to tears several times while trying to help him sort the mail. He had decided that he would try to answer a few of the polite ones, every day, but not more. They had to sort through a small mountain of hate to get to the few well-wishers or polite inquiries about the treaty and marriage.

Germain Bandini, the Death Eater father, became an unexpected associate, almost an ally. He came to visit his son several hours a day for over a week after he first arrived with his family. The wife, Mira, stayed at the hospital with little Oberon until the boy was well enough to leave. The day when the Ministry and Lucius Malfoy - the bloody excuse for a human being had survived - announced both the treaty and the nuptials, Bandini had stopped by Hermione's bed where she and Harry were deep into their separate books and studies. Bandini waved outside their silencing bubble and ward line and took the step across the ward line first after Hermione looked up at him, moved her wand to cancel the warding and nodded. He held up a folded newspaper, obviously The Prophet, and said:

"I don't know if you have read this or not. Do you want to read it?" He looked straight at Harry, a blend of curiosity and sympathy in his black eyes.

Harry blanched. "They have released the news already?"

Bandini nodded. "I believe both sides hope to get the fighting to stop, even if the truce isn't official yet."

"Has there been any other attacks where children were the target?" Harry asked.

"I haven't heard about any, no." His dark skin got a little greyish with the thought.

Hermione hit Harry on the shoulder, he looked at her and she pointed fiercely at the paper Bandini held.

"Oh, yes, we would like to read it, please. Or Hermi would at any rate." Harry drew his wand and checked the paper for anything harmful, Bandini didn't as much as lift a brow at that, and gave the paper to Hermione before continuing to read his book. Only to be disturbed by Hermione hitting his shoulder, pointing at a paragraph in the paper and growling.

"Watch it, Hermi, do not use your vocal cords!" Harry growled right back and read what she wanted him to read while she wrote in big block letters in her notepad. While he read, he felt rage wash through him. Not because of what Malfoy had told the paper, not because of the words he used, but because he could utter those words, because he was alive to utter them. And he shouldn't have been. If there were any justice in this world, he shouldn't have been.

Hermione held her notepad in his face when he looked up at her again. Her hands were trembling. A cloud of rage darkened her face and Harry would have sworn he saw a hint of a red glint in her blind, black eye.

FUCKING MALFOY!

"Yes, I agree. Fucking Malfoy. The thought that he survived and so many kind and good and innocent people did not … We should have killed him when we had the chance."

It wasn't entirely true that they had let a chance to kill him escape them, on purpose. They had tried to kill him in every battle they had seen him in since the massacre at Godric's Hollow. Twice they had gone out and actively hunted him to bring the bastard down, but they hadn't been able to afford to use any more time or energy on the hunt after that second time.

Survival first.

Victory second.

Revenge, a lousy third.

Harry knew a lot of people would tell him that he had his priorities wrong. Victory should be on the top of the list and revenge had nothing to do on such a list for a fighter for the Light forces. He didn't see the use of victory if Hermione wasn't able to benefit, and she felt the same way about him, so they both had to survive for victory to matter. It was selfish and probably wrong not to be willing to sacrifice all for war and victory, but they had sacrificed enough already, Harry thought. As for revenge and the whole "don't stoop down to their level" bullshit … Harry didn't put much stock in that anymore.

Some people simply needed killing.

Lucius Malfoy was on the very top of that list. He shared the honoured placement with Fenrir Greyback.

Hermione was almost frothing at the mouth; she was that angry. Now she lifted an eyebrow, gripped her wand and made as if she was going to get out of bed. She had a truly murderous look on her face.

Harry jumped up into the bed, caught her and hugged her towards his chest.

"No, no, you can't, Hermi, I'm sorry, but you can't. You aren't healed yet."

She fought him, hard, trashed in his arms and did her damndest to get free, but because she didn't want to hurt him, he held on. He was grateful for the silencing bubble that hindered the noise from disturbing the boy in the other bed, or the Healers or the other sick and injured people at the ward.

Still, Oberon's parents saw what was happening and Bandini showed up again, waving outside the warding line and pointing at himself and then at Hermione. Of course, that was the moment Hermione's power spiked and sparks flew from her hair and along her arms and fingers to gather around her in a cloud of sparks and flashes of power. Harry gasped when the power flicked against him, it didn't harm him, it was just uncomfortable. For anyone Hermione didn't love, it would be agony. He gritted his teeth, held on and managed to turn his gaze to Bandini again.

Bandini was staring slack jawed at Hermione. Through ferocious reading and a few tentative questions to trusted allies, Hermione and Harry had figured out that seeing power storms like this wasn't usual. At least, not for other people. For the two of them it had become downright normal. It happened far too frequently for comfort, when one of them was feeling anything negative strongly enough. Fear, rage, panic, desperation and grief were the more common ones, but there were a lot of intense and very bad feelings to choose from, after years of war. Most often they could transform the power to controlled spells and magic, but if they truly lost it … Harry didn't want to think what could happen if Hermione truly lost it at the hospital.

Harry shook his head fiercely at Bandini and pointed him away from the bed. Hermione wouldn't actively try to hurt Harry, not even when she was like this, but she would react extremely aggressively if anyone else came close. Harry couldn't guarantee Bandini's safety, or life, if he intervened. Bandini nodded and hurriedly got out of Harry's sight, but Harry could feel him setting up protective shields between the two beds in the room. The man was far from stupid, just stupid enough to swear to Voldemort.

Harry's wand was on the floor now, and so he used a nonverbal and wandless Accio to retrieve a small potion bottle from his bag. He flipped the lid off and managed to feed the potion to Hermione without her spitting it out in her rage, or biting him in the process. It worked immediately, the way she had brewed it to do, and she instantly calmed and almost before he had gotten her properly into bed, she fell asleep.

Not long after a Healer came into the room, waited by the ward line and stepped over it and into the silencing bubble when Harry let her in.

"Mr. Potter, are you both alright? The observation charm on Miss Granger went off rather violently, I have got strict orders to wait for a few minutes before answering the call if it goes off like that …"

"That is the protocol we agreed upon with the Head Healer, to attempt to keep the Healers safe," Harry stated tiredly. "Hermi will sleep for a little while now, and be calm the rest of the day."

The Healer hesitated. "Can I get you anything, Mr. Potter?"

"A coffee? Please?" he asked hopefully. He wasn't ready to even try to relax, even if a nap would do him good. Adrenaline was rushing through him, drumming in his ears, pulsing hard enough to make him want to gasp. There would be no relaxation for him for a while.

He got his coffee and read the rest of the newspaper announcement about the marriage and the truce, before going back to his studies. He really hoped to find something to help Hermione's voice or eye before he had to leave her.

Two hours later the very first bucket of letters arrived, and they never really stopped.

The day after, Bandini found them with even more letters on Hermione's bed. He stopped by the foot of the bed after Hermione nodded for him to approach, hesitated and said:

"I have a spell that sorts Howlers out from the rest of the mail, so they can be terminated before they explode."

"Really? That would be great right now." Harry dragged a hand through his hair. "We try to get to them in time, and we have used plenty of silencing charms in addition to our usual bubble but some of these buggers refuse to be silenced!" He glared at the letters.

Bandini waved his wand and four Howlers shot out of the pile, he promptly cast a curse at the letters that made them melt.

"Let me show you the spell and then I have one that is actually capable of finding paper with a lot of profanities on them. I assume those would also hold little of interest."

"You are not wrong," Harry said. "And those with a lot of expletives are also those who most often hold threats and nasty hexes, curses and potions. It would be good to get rid of all of those. Howlers are most often protected against anything that would stop them from being heard, what was the spell you used?"

"A Dark one, but one that the neutral ward at the hospital lets me use because it wasn't against anything living."

"Any chance you could teach us that one too?"

"It's Dark," Bandini said again.

"I heard you; we would still like to learn it. You don't seriously think that we have survived this long on so-called Light spells alone?"

"I have heard rumours, but …"

"They are probably all true, even though some of the ones I have heard are exacerbated quite a lot."

Hermione held up her hand and showed a tiny space between forefinger and thumb, while making a grimace.

"A bit more than that, Hermi."

She rolled her eyes.

Bandini started to teach them the three spells.

It was a week later, the day Oberon was going to be released from the hospital, that Bandini went from 'friendly, but dangerous associate', to 'still dangerous but obviously an ally, for now'.

"I don't understand what they are thinking, I don't understand how they believe this is going to work!" Harry was shouting, which was fine because the silencing bubble kept their words private. He stood by the bed, a letter in one hand while the other switched between tugging at his hair and waving around. "And they …" He stopped suddenly because Hermione was looking over his shoulder. Harry spun around, wand at the ready.

Bandini lifted his hands in the air, no wand to be seen. Harry nodded at him and let him through the ward.

"I was simply going to say goodbye and again thank you both for the help with healing my family, but now my curiosity forces me to ask: what is going on?"

Harry looked at Hermione who nodded after a moment.

"We are working with the Ministry to make a decent peace treaty. They never wanted our input, but we are giving it anyway and they can't get themselves to tell us to butt out, because … well …"

"Naturally," Bandini said smoothly.

"And they have changed a couple of things and added some things after comments from us, but they are being exceptionally stubborn when it comes to Muggleborns. Their idea is pure … shite …" Harry stopped abruptly before nodding to himself.

"I get that they would like to be the good guys. I get that they would like to give parents a choice, of course I get that. The idea of taking magical children from their Muggle parents is absolutely abhorrent! But we can't really afford to give anyone a choice, and that is what the Ministry is proposing!

"As if any parent at all would willingly give up their child to strangers, even knowing that their child is different in ways they can't imagine! That decision - when the child is born, and the Ministry's spells pick up the birth of a magical child in a non-magical household - does not necessarily mean that those parents will be good parents when the accidental magic begins to appear. Or when they follow their child to Diagon Alley for the first time or when that child comes home from school and talks about things the parents have no hope of ever understanding. That does not mean that the parents will be kind and understanding their whole lives, or that the parents will never turn on their child because of the differences, or that … or that the parents never will tell anyone outside the immediate family that their child is magical.

"Right now, Britain's Wizarding society can't afford such slips. We could, before the war, with a whole office of Obliviators. But we can't now, and the Ministry still wants to be the good guys and give the parents a choice between losing their child or partly entering a world which they know nothing about. That's not particularly fair either, to give them a choice they don't really comprehend and expect them to never regret it, at all."

Hermione reached out and poked him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bandini. Sorry, Hermi, I'm ranting, again." Harry pulled at his hair. "I'm just irritated over the fact that the Ministry is so set on being the good guys, they refuse to consider other angles. And it's not good!" Harry slumped down in his chair by Hermione's bed. "And no, Mr. Bandini, you do not need to mention that kidnapping a child and letting the parents believe the baby died should be a last resort. I'm fully aware of how repulsive the idea is. One of the letters from the Ministry concerning this subject, came from a father I hope never to meet face to face."

Bandini hesitated. "While I do not believe that Muggles inherently are any worse at parenting than magical people …"

Harry and Hermione stared at him. That, coming from a Death Eater!

"Inherently worse," he stressed. "My mother is half-blood and I grew up with visiting my Muggle grandmother alone after my grandfather died. She tried to be kind, but even if she had married a wizard and raised three witches, she didn't quite understand the way we live. The way my mother and father raised their children. It led to many painful and unnecessary confrontations.

"Therefore, I do believe that it would be a lot harder for Muggles to be good parents to magical children, than it is for magical parents to be good parents to magical children. Exactly because of the difference in life experience. How are Muggle parents going to prepare a magical child for the life that they will have, for the people they will meet, for the studies and the jobs they will have to choose from?"

Hermione had written while listening and now held up her notepad. Harry took it and read before handing it over to Bandini.

My parents are Muggles, and I love them. There was never any lack of understanding or acceptance from them. I cannot imagine them doing anything better than they did, nor can I imagine my life without them … But looking back on my introduction to the magical world … It was far from easy.

I didn't know anything at all! Not even how to write with a quill! I knew no history, no behaviours, no background information at all. I was severely handicapped from the beginning, and that's me with my love of books and learning. Others had it worse, far worse, I know. It wasn't a good feeling, and I don't want other children to have to go through that. If good magical homes, with supervision from a new Ministry department or something like that, can be provided for the Muggleborn; I support that solution. With a heavy heart.

Mistreatment or neglect of Muggleborn children in any magical household will not be tolerated. They will have good, solid homes where they are loved and provided for, nothing less will do! Any who tries to do something different; I will hunt them down and gut them with a rusty knife!

Bandini looked at Hermione's words for a long time before looking up. "We are in agreement, then, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter. Especially on your last sentiment, Miss Granger. There should be no differences in love, devotion, support and material goods between a child born in a magical household and a Muggleborn child adopted into that magical household. Anything else will work against the notion of helping the Muggleborn children."

Hermione summoned her notepad and wrote some more before giving it to Bandini again.

"There hasn't been a raid with the purpose to kill Muggles in about a year, Miss Granger, and it's even longer since there was a raid against Muggleborn witches and wizards. I didn't consider sides in the war based on attacks on Muggles or Muggleborn. I had to consider what side would give me, my family and Wizarding Britain the best future. Based on the history of the Dark Lord and the Dark forces … I might have chosen better. But by the time I actually had to choose … There wasn't that much difference in how the factions fought, and I know I do not endear myself to either of you when I admit that I still think I choose the right side for me and mine."

"Points for honesty, I guess," Harry said with a sigh. "I hope you know how lucky you are that you were able to actually pick a side. I couldn't possibly pick the side of the guy that has tried several times to kill me and managed to kill my parents. Before I'm suddenly going to marry him and stay by his side forevermore, that is." Harry could hear the biting tone in his words but was too tired to try and keep it away.

"And Hermione was, of course, a Muggleborn back when being a Muggleborn was the same as getting a death sentence without any kind of trial, or an actual transgression. What I'm saying is this, Mr. Bandini, excuse us for not applauding your choice or your ability to overlook the past of your compatriots, when said compatriots started this war because they wanted to exterminate parts of wizarding society."

"True," was all Bandini said, he probably realised that he wouldn't be able to defend his stance with Harry and Hermione and there was no use in trying. "Goodbye, then."

Three hours later he was back with a black envelope with a silver script, addressed to Harry.

"I will be right outside the room, Mr. Potter, in case you want to give an answer." He gave Harry the envelope and left.

Harry checked the letter for anything harmful before he opened it. He read it three times before giving it over to Hermione who by now was poking him rather hard in the shoulder.

"From Voldemort," Harry said dully. "He was going to let the Ministry try their method with the Muggleborn children for a while, before changing it if necessary. Our stance and especially your words, Hermi, convinced him otherwise. I didn't even notice that Bandini took the page you wrote on. The treaty will be changed as we wanted it to be. Notice that mistreatment or neglect of Muggleborn children in a magical household will lead to death by gutting with a rusty knife?" He huffed and buried his face in his hands. "What have I gotten myself into this time, Hermi?"

Hermione put her arms around him and hugged him.

Bandini worked as a messenger between Harry and Voldemort the following weeks. There were no personal words between them. Every letter referred to the peace treaty contract, the marriage contract, and in a few cases the marriage ceremony and reception.

Harry still felt as if he slowly was winding his way towards his own execution, but he was marginally sure that there would be a tolerable peace for both sides after the peace treaty was signed. At least if Voldemort kept to the contract, and it was supposed to be magically binding. Harry just wished that he could be sure that it really was binding. And in the middle of the night when he woke up screaming and crying with magic pulsing and spinning around him, with nowhere to go, no spell to fulfil, he wished, desperately, that he knew what the future held for him. And how much of said future he had.

A/N: Another chapter with Ladylillalove as my beta reader. Thank you so much! Any and all mistakes are as always mine.

And thank you to those of you that have favourited and followed, and given me my first review! I like knowing that people like to read what I write, because I have great fun writing it!

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