Cappygal116- Much love for the first reviewer! I'm glad you're interested in the plot and I promise you this story is definitely going places.
quidditch7- It always makes me feel so special when I know I'm on someone's author alert. Thank you so much! I try to keep all my stories humorous because I think it's important to have humor even in the hardest times of your life. There will definitely be more romance in this piece than my others. I hope you like that!
IsabellaPaige- The good start will only get better! I'm trying to update about once a week for this story, so keep an eye out for it!
BuckNC- Honestly, that hurt. That hurt a lot. I didn't think I needed to post this, but I did on the main page just for people like you anyway. I'm writing this story as part of a marriage law challenge for a Harry Potter group I'm in. I just decided it would be nice to publish it here. There will be no "Draco Malfoy AU crap." I am sensible and I have been to Europe, but I don't think it's as easy as Hermione just packing up and leaving behind everything she knows and loves. I'm not going to just scratch the story. It hasn't all been done before. Not everyone writes the same exact thing. I find it very inconsiderate that you underestimate the time and effort I put into this piece just because you think it lacks originality. Every author has the right to dabble in popular genres as they wish, and I shouldn't have to defend that. Yet here I am doing that. For a fan who wants me to respect them, that wasn't very respectful. This will be the only marriage law fic I do. So, quite simply, if you don't like it, just don't read it.
Violet snicket- I'm really glad you like the story! I'm a big Ron fan too. I hope he's in character well, because that's what I try for.
The End of a New Life by MyKonstantine.
Chapter 2: Fighting the Power
The clamor that surrounded an old broken telephone booth in central London astonished most people who saw the sight. The dreary corner that many normal folks walked by every single day was flooded with unusual characters. Some were wearing colorful cloaks, but almost all of them had a piece of parchment clenched in their fist. They obviously had to inform the police or a nosy neighbor of this in order to receive a decent explanation. The worst part of it all was the strange feeling that they were being watched.
"Obliviate!" A voice rang out on the street from behind a group of muggles.
Hermione caught the sight just as she rounded the corner toward the Ministry. Despite its obviousness, she still questioned the Auror performing the memory modification. "What are you doing?"
"They catch on too quick, these muggles." The gruff man replied quickly. "These members of the wizarding community are causing absolute chaos! I've been modifying the muggles' memories all day! They think it's a protest against building new offices in the area or some rubbish like that."
Hermione almost felt bad for the Auror who certainly had his work cut out for him. Then she remembered exactly why the witches and wizards outside the Ministry were protesting, and suddenly she didn't feel so bad anymore. In fact, the sympathy froze into a hardened shell of anger and resentment.
She had come to the Ministry by foot. Ron had traveled by route of floo powder. Harry apparated directly into the Ministry, simply because his status allowed him to do so. One of them was bound to track down the Minister of Magic himself.
Jostling through the crowd was harder than Hermione had expected it to be. The men and women before her showed serious signs of aggression, though no violence had broken out yet. The machine that allowed civilians access into the Ministry was guarded by an Auror, but she didn't have to do much. The authorization machine within the mangy telephone booth repeated "I'm sorry, but you are not a Ministry of Magic employee and do not have authorized access to the Ministry of Magic at this time. Please come back another day when authorization is given."
Cutting in toward the telephone booth as an old woman with curly locks of gray hair exited, Hermione knew this was one battle she may never win.
"My name is Hermione Granger." She told the machine with as much authority as she could possibly muster. "I'm here to speak to the Minister about an urgent matter."
Much to her surprise, the machine accepted her name without any protest. A shiny silver badge came out with the words "Hermione Granger, Special Interest Consultant" written clearly on it.
Consultant? Hermione wasn't quite sure why she was being considered a consultant, but it didn't matter. As the Auror held back the massive crowd that tried to enter the Ministry of Magic with Hermione, she realized that she was on a mission. She had to be able to do something.
Hermione marched through the Ministry with such authority she scared the Ministry officials that walked by. A distinguished witch with such anger was an omen of trouble and chaos, especially in the case of Hermione Granger. Even the tables and decorations leapt out of her way as she passed.
The only thing that wasn't afraid of Hermione was a small piece of parchment that fluttered in her face with no avail. She tried to ignore it, but the note was obviously sent for her. At lightning speed, her hand went up and squeezed the parchment in her palm. It let out a squelching noise, then a sigh of relief as she opened it.
Dear Miss Granger,
We've been expecting you for some time now. You know where my office is, so I kindly ask that you go there immediately to discuss the issue at hand.
Thank you,
Rufus Scrimgeour
Hermione tossed the note over her shoulder carelessly. The Minister had to know she was going to his office all along. Why else would she be there? Was he stalling?
It was the fastest Hermione had ever managed to walk to the Minister's office. Even after the defeat of Voldemort and his horcruxes, Hermione had walked to the office slowly and silently. Now she was vivacious and energetic for her cause.
She opened the door without so much as a knock, but she was the one who was surprised by what was inside the Minister's office.
Harry and Ron already sat in the office with anxious looks on their face. Apparently, the Ministry willingly embraced the presence of all three of them. However, the two men had a different title on their badge. They were entitled "Ministry Guest."
Rufus Scrimgeour sat behind his desk looking calm and smug. Hermione was tempted to wallop that look right off his face.
"Miss Granger! Welcome back!" The Minister put on a wide smile and raised his arms in greeting. This only annoyed Hermione more than she had been before. "I'm hoping you've come to discuss the new decree?"
Hermione wasn't in the mood for the Minister's perpetual perkiness. She felt queasy, like she had been sailing in choppy waters for years. Her head was about to explode. Her eyes were stingy and watery. She wanted nothing more than to scream in the Minister's face, but she was beaten to the punch.
"Discuss?" Ron bellowed. "Discuss? How dare you ruin the life of so many people and then ask Hermione to have a bloody chat about it with you!"
Scrimgeour looked absolutely appalled. "We're not ruining lives, my boy! We're saving them!" He explained. "By marrying a pureblood, the magical muggle population is much safer than if they maintained their original status. It also prevents their future generations from harm."
"Future generations? Nobody said anything about future generations!"
"That is optional, of course." The Minister answered quickly. "But think of Mr. Potter here." Harry let out a soft growl to show his resentment of being used as an example. The Minister ignored it. "Harry's mother was much safer from those who sought out muggleborns once she married into an accomplished pureblood family, and her only child's pureblood safety helped him liberate the magical world!"
"If you don't recall," Harry snapped out of his silence. "My mum is dead despite her marriage's 'protection' and I'm at the top of every Death Eater's hit list."
Scrimgeour shrugged. "That, my boy, is because of your participation in the war, not your blood status. We can't control your choices."
"You can't control our blood status either!" Hermione finally let loose, her voice echoing in the short silence that followed. "It's unethical! And you have NO right to bring Harry's family into this!"
"The governors agree that this is the only way to protect our people. The decree is a temporary action to keep us all safe and there's no changing that for the time being."
"I'm not letting you do this!" Hermione declared. "I'll go before the governors, The Wizengamot, and every office in the Ministry if I have to."
Scrimgeour looked at Hermione with a glint in his eye that was not helpful or reassuring. In fact, it was oppressive. "Well then, you'll have to take it up with them. I am of no use to you."
The Minister moved out of his chair and opened the door, waiting for the trio to exit. It wasn't until Hermione, the last of the three to pass through the threshold moved by him that Scrimgeour added "I'll see you in four months, Miss Granger, whether it be to sign your marriage license or take legal action. Good day."
Hermione could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as she walked toward the Ministry's main hall. All those people outside were counting on her to find a way around this law, but she didn't. She couldn't even save herself from its clutches.
"What now?" Harry asked Hermione. He was angry, yet trying to be gentle at the same time. He was depressed, but he forced himself to remain optimistic. Hermione's respect for Harry's complex being was the only thing that stopped her from pitching a fit in Ministry headquarters.
"Home." Hermione whispered. "I want to go home."
The three opted to travel to Hermione's by floo powder in order to avoid the raging crowds outside. It was now late afternoon, and the light from the sunset entering Hermione's flat gave it an eerie, inviting glow. Suddenly it felt much easier for Hermione to breathe and think and move all at once.
She threw herself down into a chair and out her head in her hands, breathing in the musky air. The silence around her was stunning, but she could hear feet moving toward her.
"Should we leave?" Ron's most comforting voice inquired from across the table.
"No!" Hermione blurted out. Her cheeks reddened quickly. "That is, unless you don't want to stay. I completely understand if you have things to do for work or something of the sort."
Hermione tried to act as normal as possible, but she knew Ron had seen the fear and anguish in her eyes when she had thought about Ron and Harry leaving her at a time like this.
"I dunno." Said Harry, whose nerves had left him staring at the ground through most of their conversation. "I expect you'd want to be alone at a time like this."
"Nonsense! All our Hermione needs is a little pick me up!" Ron's voice was unusually cheery as his searched through Hermione's cabinets as if they were his own.
Ron couldn't seem to find what he wanted, so with a quick "I'll be right back!" he apparated away. Hermione and Harry barely had time to exchange confused looks before Ron was back again with a bottle of Mulled Mead and a bottle of Firewhiskey.
Harry let out a laugh. Hermione let out a groan. "Ron, you know I don't drink. It's foul and self-depreciating."
"Or, in the right amounts," Ron began before taking a shot of Firewhiskey straight from the bottle, shaking it off, and continuing, "it's a lovely way to cheer you up!"
Harry didn't need to be convinced. Before Ron had even managed to put down the Firewhiskey bottle, Harry was pouring himself a glass of Mulled Mead. Hermione gave him an exasperated look.
"What? We're all friends here." He took a large gulp. "It's just a friendly drink."
"A drink or two won't kill you, 'Mione." Ron gave her a warm smile and slid a mixture of Firewhiskey and pumpkin juice across the table toward her.
She didn't want to drink. She hadn't had a drink since the celebration after the war. In fact, that was the only time she'd ever had liquor. But now Ron as staring at her with puppy dog eyes and his adorable red hair was sticking up all over the place as he waited for her response. One drink couldn't hurt.
The mixture went down her throat with an oddly satisfying burn. "Well, it's better than polyjuice potion."
Hermione wouldn't admit that she actually liked what Ron had given her, but her non-descriptive answer seemed to be enough to appease him.
She felt unusually strong now, not because she could help the wizarding world or even because she was in the company of her best friends, but because the drink didn't have any effect on her. When she was finished with it, she felt absolutely fine. One more drink couldn't hurt.
A few minutes later, Hermione was finished with that drink. Ron and Harry had managed to have double of what she'd had, and for the most part they seemed fine. One more couldn't hurt.
Hours later, Hermione lay groaning face down in the toilet with Ron and Harry on either side observing the scene.
"What do we do now?" Ron cocked his head to the side in confusion.
Harry had no idea himself. "I dunno. Comfort her?"
Hermione scoffed so loudly it echoed in the toilet bowl. "I hate you both."
"Maybe not." Harry concluded about his previous suggestion. "Listen, mate. Maybe we should just leave her be. She's not too happy with us, and I've got to work early tomorrow."
Harry often had to work early. The world's most famous wizard had become a Gringotts cursebreaker after the war. He certainly fit the credentials the bank was looking for in such an employee. He had power, talent, experience, and character to offer. The hours were long and weary, but Harry rarely complained. Hermione assumed it kept his mind from focusing on the past.
"You can go back Harry, it's fine." Ron sighed. "I'll make sure she doesn't break her neck trying to find her bedroom."
Harry nodded quickly before he apparated back to the flat he shared with Ron. Just as he left, the sound of Hermione retching in small spurts filled the room again.
Without thinking, Ron ran a hand through Hermione's hair. To his surprise, she didn't object to this. Ron thought about removing his hand, but she never said anything about it. She actually seemed to relax.
"Disgusting and self-depreciating." Hermione repeated her sentiment from earlier in the evening. Ron couldn't help but let out a little laugh. Even under the influence, Hermione kept her prestigious attitude.
Ron couldn't believe she felt this sick after such a short period of time. "Geez Hermione, how many did you have?"
"Four."
Ron's burst of laughter echoed throughout the house before he managed to calm himself down and give repeated out-of-breath apologizes. It was obvious that Hermione hadn't drank much in the past, but at this point, she was more dramatic than she ever was drunk.
"Look at me! Nobody is ever going to marry me!"
Hermione truly believed the words that she had said. She couldn't see Ron's guilty face behind her. He didn't know what to do but to ignore the comment.
"You seem to be much better." Ron noted. "Maybe it's time for bed, Hermione."
Hermione whimpered. She slowly began to stand, her knees refusing to buckle. When she managed that, she turned toward Ron and promptly fell down again.
"Okay, I'll handle this." Ron mumbled to himself. With all the strength he could muster, he collected Hermione in his arms. It was not an easy task. Hermione was not as light as a feather, and even though Ron had some strength in him, he was not as strong as an ox. Finally, he managed to place her safely on her bed.
Despite the night's madness, Hermione looked sweet and peaceful in bed. Ron tried to stop himself from staring at her, but he couldn't help it. Even while faking sleep, Hermione could feel his presence over her. Then the footsteps began the fade away.
Hermione snuggled herself into the pillows. "Goodnight."
Ron was too far away to hear her, but she did get an answer. Something moved slowly in the corner of her room, making a slow screeching sound so low that it was barely audible to the human ear. Hermione opened her eyes immediately, but all she could see was blackness. Though she was growing impatient, she knew her eyes needed time to adjust.
By the time that her eyes actually did adjust, it was almost too late.
Hermione hadn't noticed any distinct shapes until she looked up and realized that there was a good reason for that. Whatever was in the room was standing right in front of her. She had been staring at its mid-section that entire time. Now she was staring at what she believed to be its head.
Hermione did the only possible thing that she could. "RON!"
Without five seconds of waiting, Hermione could hear footsteps pounding up the stairs. She looked toward and the door for a moment and then turned back. To her surprise, whatever was in the room had vanished. Hermione sat up at once, snatching up her wand and searching for it, but there was nothing there.
Looking back to the corner where it came from, Hermione noticed something odd. The corner of the wall was cracked and an odd blue mist came through. Almost immediately, the crack healed itself and the blue mist dispersed itself into the air.
Ron came in, puffing for breath. "Whasamatter?"
"There was something in my room."
"Something in your room?" Ron repeated, pulling out his wand and looking around. "Like what? A rat?"
"No Ron! I could kill a rat perfectly well by myself!" Hermione growled. Ron obviously didn't understand the fear in her facial expression. "There was something that came into my room and left."
"Was it a wizard?" Ron asked, checking under the bed and in the closet as if he were an Auror on a top secret mission to save one Miss Hermione Granger.
Hermione shrugged, her eyes still searching the room back and forth at very quick speeds. "I don't know what it was."
"How could you not recognize a human from any other creature in the universe?" Ron snapped back. "Do you think a goblin or a bloody unicorn would have the same shadow?"
"It could have been a thousand things!" Hermione argued. "It could have been a werewolf or a vampire or a hag! They all look like wizards!"
Ron shook his head. "Well there's nothing here. So I think it was just your imagination. You're not in the right state of mind, Hermione."
"I'll show you state of mind, Weasley."
"You'll get over it in the morning." Ron couldn't help but laugh a bit at Hermione's drunken attitude as he spoke. "I'll leave now and we'll have a chat about it tomorrow. I'm sure we'll all get a good laugh out of it."
"Don't leave!" Hermione managed to let out. Her brown eyes shot open in time to see Ron turning around. "Stay here."
Ron shushed her. "Just go to sleep, Hermione. I can't stay in the room and keep you up all night." Hermione let out a little sobbing noise, and this had just the effect she wanted. "Would you like me to stay on your couch and I'll talk to you tomorrow?"
"That would be lovely."
The morning came too quickly. The sun glare in her eyes made Hermione's head sting, but she didn't feel as bad as she'd expected to feel. Perhaps some breakfast would help.
When Hermione reached her kitchen, Ron was already down there helping himself to a meal. "'Ood 'oring!" He greeted her with his mouth full of eggs and pumpkin juice. The sight was amusing and revolting all at once. "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm okay." Hermione replied meekly. She suddenly felt a huge wave of embarrassment crash over her. "Sorry about all that."
"It's nothing, you just-"
Ron was cut off by a tapping at the window. Hermione turned away immediately, afraid to look and find another Ministry owl. It was just like yesterday all over again.
"Relax." Ron informed her. "It's just Pig."
Hermione let out a sigh of relief and let the extremely small feather ball into her home. Pig zoomed around the room relentlessly, hooting nonstop. Crookshanks was in the room in a matter of seconds, but before things could get ugly, Ron managed to snatch up his owl.
Ron carefully took the letters off Pig's twitchy leg. "There are two letters. One for me, one for you."
"Who's it from?" Hermione questioned as Ron threw her letter toward her. Ron then proceeded to rip open the envelope sloppily to get to a very detailed white card inside. He flipped it open carelessly.
"Well, what is it?" Hermione asked anxiously as she saw Ron's eyes widen.
"It's an invitation to Lavender and Seamus' wedding next month."
Thanks for all your support so far, guys!
I'd really love it if you reviewed with any constructive criticisms that you have!
