Thank you so much everyone for the lovely reviews! i was blown away to think people have been waiting for an update all this time. I am getting back into the swing of writing a little each day so hopefully updates should continue in a semi regular fashion.

"Weasleys, what a lovely surprise to see you," Umbridge simpered, although the flinty gleam in her eye suggested that she did not truly mean what she was saying.

Ron sat down in one of the hard chairs in front of her desk without ceremony, "Sorry if we've caught you on the hoof, but we didn't want to give you the chance to say neigh, er that is no. Anyway the mane reason we're here –"

"Is to have that check up you mentioned the other day, Delores," Hermione interjected before Ron went too far with the horse related puns. She took the other chair and gave the older witch a challenging stare. After failing to see Amy, she had convinced Ron that if he didn't have grounds for an auror raid, they could at least pay a visit to Umbridge when the smooth talking Hazeldene wasn't around, to try and rattle her into slipping up and giving them some information.

Umbridge stuttered slightly, seeming wrong footed. Hermione bit back a smile, feeling that she had more than made up for Umbridge's refusal to call her by the right name. "Well, yes. It's not that I don't appreciate it and it's always lovely to see two of my favourite former students. But I am quite busy…and Minister Hazeldene is in a meeting…" she looked furtively over her shoulder, her hand straying to her toadlike neck unconsciously to rub at the skin there.

Hermione craned her neck to try and see what Umbridge was looking at but there was nothing but empty wall behind her. Again, she had the frustrating feeling that she was missing something. Umbridge's head snapped back, a sickly smile stretched across her face.

"Still, I'm sure we can get started, obviously there's nothing for the pair of you to worry about, we just like to keep an eye on our couples, to make sure there's no tensions arising. After all, it must be difficult becoming part of a pureblood family, when you're a muggle born," she finished with a condescending glance to Hermione.

Ron just snorted with laughter, sprawling back in his chair, the picture of relaxation, "Hermione's been part of my family for years, besides, we're hardly ones to follow all those old traditions."

"Hmm, yes." Umbridge sniffed, letting them both know exactly what she thought of that.

"And how are the other couples getting on? Avery seemed a little…ruffled when I visited."

"Well, that's what I mean dear, it doesn't do to just turn up unannounced at some of the older families houses and waltz up to the door. It's a real pity for you that no one sees fit to teach you these things," she looked pointedly in Ron's direction.

Hermione tossed her head in frustration at Umbridge's seeming deflection of the question, before she tried again, speaking in a tone that rivalled the one she had once heard Umbridge using to Hagrid, "But when you saw Amy - you did see her didn't you? Was she ok?"

"Yes yes, of course. I was ever so grateful she was able to find the time to meet with me, she's frightfully busy, of course –" Umbridge was interrupted by a muffled thump from somewhere nearby. Making a poor attempt to suppress a look of irritation, she tutted primly, "Those oafs from the Department of Magical Games and Sport have been having meetings in our corridor while their office is being refurbished. They can't seem to have a conversation without throwing something around or jumping on broomsticks. This wouldn't have happened if Minister Fudge was still here. Hem, anyway Hermione. Why is it do you think that you haven't got pregnant yet? I've looked over your St Mungo's reports, not that they will share much information with us, some silliness about patient confidentiality, and everything seems in order? Hm?"

Hermione, feeling almost dizzy with the rapid change in topic, took a moment to realise that Umbridge was waiting for a response. She struggled a little for words, remembering just in time that she wasn't supposed to seem too pleased about the matter and settled for a downcasting of her eyes into her lap and an acknowledgement that these things happen for a reason.

"Hem. Well, yes. And what is the reason do you suppose? Perhaps, well I mean, I'm no expert, obviously, but do you think perhaps that there's something wrong with you?"

Demureness gone out of the window, it was all Hermione could do not to splutter in surprise, "Wrong? I've had all manner of tests carried out, and not one has suggested something wrong! Just what are you suggesting?"

Umbridge smirked as she waved her hand airily as iF she could waft away the offending words, "Well, as I say, the excellent healers at St Mungos are far more equipped than me," she trilled, "but if I might offer the teensiest opinion, you don't seem the maternal type anyway. Too cold, too concerned with your own cleverness."

Suddenly Ron spoke up; he had been so quiet that Hermione, who was trying to calm the fiery spirals of rage that were building in her chest, had almost forgotten he was there, "Blimey, that's the crucible calling the cauldron black! I don't see you with a bunch of rugrats anywhere."

Umbridge just gave a tinkling laugh that made Hermione's hackles rise, before spreading her stubby fingered hands out towards the two of them, "Mr Weasley, I see this work for the Ministry as a kind of motherhood. After all what could be more important than this, helping all of you lovely couples develop a happy relationship and raise families of your own. Even if some of your relationships are rather, well, sickly, then what sort of mother would I be if I just abandoned you."

Hermione mulled this over for a moment, feeling like the sudden change of topic had distracted her from a line of thought that had skittered out of her mind for a moment, along with the control of the conversation, "Are we unusual then? Are most of the other women subjected to this scheme pregnant already?"

Umbridge turned an ugly shade of red and shuffled the papers on her desk distractedly while she muttered that that was Ministry classified information and that Hermione had evidently still not learned to keep her nose out of business that doesn't concern her.

Bang! There was that noise again, louder this time. The colour in Umbridge's face deepened to a shade of puce that clashed horribly with her fluffy pink cardigan and her simpering smile slipped for just long enough to that her fleshy face looked strangely sinister, before she cranked the corners of her mouth back up again.

"Dear children," she tinkled, "I am so sorry for the interruptions today, it's quite chaotic here. Thank you so much for stopping in and we'll be sure to be in touch soon."

She practically tipped them out of their chairs and ushered them from the room, watching out of the door until she could be sure they had left the corridor.

"Well that was a waste of time," Ron groused, as Hermione attempted to swallow down the waves of revulsion that had washed over her upon having Umbridge's squat fingers grip her surprisingly firmly around the arm and issue her from her office.

"At least we learned something – there's something fishy going on about the other girls getting pregnant. Didn't you see how flustered she got when that came up?"

"Perhaps that's why they are pushing us so hard to get pregnant, the scheme isn't working out quite like they had hoped? Not enough witches up the duff or something?"

"Maybe," mused Hermione, tapping her lip as she tried to think it over, "I just feel like I'm going round in circles and not getting anywhere with this. It just absolutely infuriates me that Umbridge is getting away with whatever she's up to, right under our noses. And messing up our lives as a bonus for her!"

"Nah, she's just the monkey, Hazeldene's the organ grinder. I think you've been right all along, it's him we need to concentrate on. Either that or we could just go to the Winchester, wait for it all to blow over." He sniggered as Hermione rolled her eyes, cursing Harry for ever teaching him that muggle phrase. His face grew thoughtful, "Be nice wouldn't it, just to chill out and let someone else save the world for a change, I mean, why does it always have to be us? I'm nothing special. I definitely feel like I deserve a turn at hiding out somewhere until this is all over and done with."

His tone was of casual speculation and his expression was resigned but his eyes were questioning, obviously hoping that Hermione would come up with some solution that meant they could leave all of this business alone. As much as she ached to agree with him, to just have a rest for once and stop feeling so responsible for everything, she knew they couldn't. The rueful expression on his face as he said it told her that he knew it too.

"You know they'd just go after your family if we did a bunk, it wouldn't be fair on them and we've put your parents through enough worry for several life times as it is. Besides, as lovely as an extended holiday sounds, that would mean you'd have to spend all your time alone with me!"

"Huh, oh yeah, I didn't even think of that. Perhaps Umbridge might like to come on holiday with me instead then" Ron laughed, but Hermione noticed that his ears reddened slightly and she wondered if she had embarrassed him.

She struggled to think of something to say to fill the suddenly thick silence between the two of them, before she checked her watch with a start, realising that they had somewhere else to be very soon, "Oh well, on to our fertility appointment, what a fun day this is turning out to be."

Ron just rolled his eyes in response and stuck his hands in his pockets, all talk of running away together seemingly forgotten as he strolled down the corridor a step ahead of her, leaving her wondering just how awful an extended vacation with just Ron for company would actually be.

After a short journey to St Mungo's, where the idea of running away wasn't mentioned again, Ron preferring to carry on a light hearted commentary about that season's best quidditch teams, they made their way with trepidation to the familiar corridors of the reproductive department, where they were issued into Healer Madgwick's office.

Hermione was laid on the hard narrow, St Mungo's standard issue bed that filled one corner of the room, her eyes trained on the ceiling as usual. Ron sat beside her on a chair and squeezed her hand tightly.

Healer Madgwick spoke in what Hermione imagined was supposed to be a reassuring tone, explaining as she did every month "I'm just going to run my wand over your middle. If it glows blue, you're pregnant, if it glows red, I'm afraid that you aren't,"

"I know, you've done exactly the same thing for the last eight months. You really don't need to explain it to me," she didn't mean to snap but her hatred for the humiliating examinations and everything they stood for was tinging the edges of her vision with red. She tried to rein her temper in to the best of her abilities – after she had wrecked the healer's office with her temper outburst before, Healer Madgwick's friendly attitude towards them had cooled somewhat.

Plus there was something else, something new, adding to her frustration, something that she couldn't blame on the colourfully dressed witch. Something that had started to take hold of her recently but had flared up during Umbridge's needling. In earlier months Hermione had been relieved that the tests had been negative. At first she was just glad that there was nothing that would tie her to Ron after the law was revoked. Then, as Ginny had got pregnant and had her baby, and some of her muggleborn friends had just disappeared, she was pleased that she still had the freedom to live an independent life and continue working. She was too young to have a baby, surely. But just this month she had started to feel something else – a creeping, niggling sense of unease. Not that she wanted to get pregnant. Just…..what if there was something wrong with her?

She doubted it could be Ron who would almost certainly have inherited the famous Weasley fertility. What if she – they - would never be able to have children? What if the curse she had been hit with in the Department of Mysteries, or the torture inflicted by that bitch Lestrange had done some untold damage? For the first month since this ridiculous charade began, she had already done a muggle pregnancy test before the appointment. She had already stared at the blank window, willing a second line to appear, for reasons that she couldn't even understand, so it was no surprise to her that the tip of the wand turned red, but she still felt a wave of disappointment crash in her empty belly to see the confirmation of her failure again.

She sneaked a look over at Ron but his face was blank. He barely seemed to be paying any attention at all actually. Hermione dropped his hand in annoyance.

Healer Madgwick seemed sorry at least, "Oh, not this month I'm afraid,"

She turned away tactfully so she could pull her top down and sit up. Hermione took a deep breath. Every month just the same – first the physical examination, then the questioning. No one had ever told her the consequences of not attending these examinations and she had never asked. Umbridge's sickly toned warning of "or else", hung over their wedding, their marriage, and attending these monthly inspections.

When the healer turned back, her robes – fuchsia today – billowing out around her, she had two phials of clear liquid, "If I could ask you both to take one of these," she asked Hermione and Ron, apologetically.

"Is this what you imagined, when you started your medical career? This is helping people is it? Interrogating innocent people on how often they've been fucking?"

"Hermione!" Ron looked shocked

"It's quite alright Mr Weasley, I understand the fertility potion Mrs Weasley has been taking can cause her to be a bit hormonal,"Calla Madgwick kept the same bland calmness as she always displayed now, although Hermione noticed her take a quick glance towards her newly restocked potions shelves, no doubt hoping that they would stay intact for the entirety of the appointment.

Hermione actually went for her wand at this but Ron placed a warning arm across her hand,

"Firstly, I agree with what she said, I was just surprised to hear her swear. Secondly, don't talk about my wife like that – like she isn't a proper person. She's ten times the person you or I are. And thirdly, it's Ms Granger-Weasley. As she tells you every bloody month,"

If it hadn't been for Healer Madgwick standing there, her mouth hanging slightly open, Hermione would have kissed Ron, there and then.

"I'm sorry Mr Weasley, Mrs – Ms Granger-Weasley," she amended, "I've been carrying out these tests so often and on so many couples, I'd forgotten how intrusive they are. Unfortunately the Ministry requires us to do them. Either we could refuse, and the ministry may carry out their threat to shut us down, or we can co operate, and accept the large amount of funding they pay St Mungo's to do so, which we use to help a great many people. Which would you rather?"

Hermione thought of how the Great Hall had been flooded with the acid green robes of mediwitches after the war and the lives they had managed to save, about the Longbottoms who were still residing downstairs, about Ginny being patched up when she had a bad fall from her broom at a recent quidditch match.

"Just give me the damn veritaserum then,"

The healer smiled apologetically and passed the bottles over. She and Ron drank in unison,

"Right let's start with you Mr Weasley," Healer Madgwick was barely looking at him as she summoned a scroll and quill to record their answers, "Have you and Hermione been having intercourse regularly?

"Yes," Ron spoke calmly but the tips of his ears turned red and his fists were clenched in anger at having to discuss such things.

"And have you been taking any contraceptive potion or using any muggle contraception?"

"No,"

Healer Madgwick placed a large tick on the parchment.

"Now your turn Ms Granger-Weasley," Ron's reminder seemed to have worked, "Have you been taking your fertility potion and vitamins every day?"

"Yes," ground out Hermione. She tried to think around the veritaserum but if she even tried to lie, her tongue curled painfully to form the words of the truth. And it was the truth, as much as she had hated it, she took them faithfully every morning, washing the chalky vitamins down with the sweet citrus fertility potion as she swore vengeance to the people responsible for making them take them.

"And have you been taking any contraceptive potions or using any muggle contraception?"

"No,"

Healer Madgwick smiled perfunctorily and told them they were free to go, that she would see them in a month's time and that if she was still not pregnant in the next few months, they may have to take further action. Hermione shuddered at what that might entail.

As they walked out of the front door, Hermione carrying her latest supply of potions under her arm, Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek

"What was that for?" he looked stunned, his cheeks colouring.

"Thank you, for sticking up for me," she smiled.

"Oh…well," he blustered, "the woman's an idiot. Still, we're off the hook for another month,"

"Yes, I suppose."

An uncharacteristic flash of thoughtful concern crossed Ron's face, "Hermione, are you ok?"

She shook herself mentally. Ron was happy she wasn't pregnant and so should she be. Another month of freedom, another month of work, "Yes, yes – fine. Maybe Healer Madgwick is right about the fertility treatment making me moody,"

"Hmm," Ron's eyes narrowed at her in a way that made her glad that the Veritaserum had worn off.

"Anyway, I said we'd meet Harry in the Newt's Head in a bit, I need to talk to him about something," she started to stride ahead. "Those noises we could hear in Umbridge's office, I couldn't see anyone playing quidditch or whatever in the corridor when we left. And, oh I don't know," she sighed distractedly, "it just felt odd in there. Maybe she could be –"

"That's the Hermione I know and..."Hermione's hair whipped her face as she turned back to look at him but he just chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck self consciously, "I mean, that's the Hermione I know. Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and speeding onwards, "last one there buys the butterbeer."

Hermione sat next to Harry in the Ministry records archive, both flipping idly through old blueprints and plans of the ministry building that might be able to help them. They had relocated there after Hermione had told him about the funny feeling she had got in Umbridge's office and convinced him it was another avenue to explore. He had screwed up his face in irritation at yet another strand of intrigue that needed unravelling but seeing Hermione's agitation, had agreed to go with her to look into it straight away. Somehow Hermione now felt, more than she had before, that she was racing against time to solve what she had now come to think of as the mystery of the marriage law and get it reversed. Surely a choice of two unpalatable fates seemed to be looming ever closer – either pregnancy or finding out first hand why it seemed that girls were disappearing. After their disastrous appointment earlier, the latter seemed more likely than the former. And it wasn't just that she was having no luck in getting pregnant; she had scoured the Prophet for announcements of babies being born – success stories of the marriage law but there were none to find. So for some reason, there was either something preventing couples from getting pregnant or they were hushing it up for some reason.

The idea of having a baby drifted tantalisingly through her mind again – her life being irrevocably linked to Ron Weasley's. It didnt feel quite the life sentence she had once imagined. Often she caught herself smiling as she watched him chase Teddy round the garden, Victoire on his shoulders, or when he rocked baby James to sleep after Harry and Ginny had both begged for just a few minutes' break from him. Ron would make a great dad. Images of him cradling a baby with red curls and brown eyes filled her mind.

"Earth to Hermione," Harry snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, "How's being in love treating you?"

"What? I'm not…" Hermione stuttered.

Harry just grinned, "Save it for someone who hasn't just watched you zone out for the last ten minutes smiling like Molly listening to a Celestina Warbeck record. You haven't heard a word I've been saying have you?"

"Of course I have, although, perhaps if you could just repeat that last bit…" Hermione blustered, shuffling the papers she had in front of her officiously.

"The bit about the hippogriff?" Harry asked helpfully.

"Yes, just that bit –" too late, Hermione realised she had walked into a trap and rolled her eyes as Harry laughed, although not unkindly.

"I'm pleased for you both," he reassured her, placing his hand on her arm,

"I don't know about both of us…"

"Oh don't worry, Ron's got it as bad as you, I caught him doing the 'Will you have a magical future together, find out how compatible you are on a scale of one to nine and three quarters' quiz in one of Ginny's old copies of Witches Weekly the other day. Have you not talked to him about it though?" Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione's red face.

"It's never come up," she mumbled, pretending to scrutinise a detail on an ancient looking document, "and frankly I think you're mistaken anyway."

"Oh come on Hermione, he's even gone home to feed Crookshanks so you could get started on this with me, even though he can't stand that cat and you know Crookshanks is going to bite him."

"I think they're really starting to warm to each other…"

Harry merely snorted to show what he thought of the chances of Crookshanks and Ron ever becoming friends, "I really think you need to say something. He thinks –"

"I really don't need to take romantic advice from you, Mr 'I refused to speak to the love of my life for three months after the War because I thought she might have got over me',"

"Alright, alright," grumbled Harry, good naturedly, "anyway, as I was saying…Hazeldene. I've done some research into his background and it seems like he's risen very quickly through the ranks. He started working at the Ministry six months after the end of the war, about the same time that we all did. Before that, well. I hadn't heard of him? Had you? No one seems to know where he's come from. Bill told me he was at school with him – he was a couple of years up from him. Funny chap, he said. A bit….morbid,"

"Slytherin?" Hermione enquired.

"Now now, Hermione. You know we're not allowed to say that Slytherins are the bad guys any more – Ministry orders. And Professor McGonagall agrees," seeing the look of shock on Hermione's face, Harry laughed, "but yes, he was a Slytherin,"

"You're right, not that it matters," Hermione sniffed, "I merely wanted to know to narrow down my research – hey look here on this plan! I was right, there should be a small store room next to Umbridge's office, look! It should be just there but it isn't." she pointed to the tiny square on the parchment triumphantly.

Harry squinted at the document, puzzled for a moment, before taking off his glasses and polishing them on the hem of his jumper.

"But does it mean anything? Maintenance probably had a load old junk that they wanted to hide and just vanished the door away. It's not as if Umbridge is what, hiding a load of girls in a broom cupboard?"

Hermione raked her hand through her hair, the feeling of elation curdling in her stomach.

"You're right, I suppose. I don't know, it was just strange, when we were in her office earlier. There were strange noises, but it wasn't that so much, it was more her reaction to them. She looked terrified Harry."

Harry looked sceptical but any further discussion was cut off when Ron approached the table, his face stormy.

"Sorry I'm late, bloody cat bit me," he held out his hands to show a poorly healed but still distinct bite mark.

Ignoring Harry's choked attempt to hide laughter, Hermione began to fill Ron in on the little they had found, when an unfamiliar Tawny owl landed in a ruffle of feathers on the edge of the desk and held its foot out expectantly to Hermione. She removed the small scroll of parchment before the owl flew off without waiting for a response.

With a shrug of confusion to the other two, she opened it up.

Come right away, Potion showing signs of degrading. Must add dragon scales today before whole endeavour ruined. D

Folding the note carefully, she tucked it inside her robes and looked up at the worriedly expectant faces of Harry and Ron.

"It's nothing," she attempted, smiling in what she hoped was a reassuring manner, although her insides were churning as she frantically tried to think of the quickest way she could get to Draco and the potion without causing an argument with Ron, who had made a few pointed comments in the days since seeing her in Diagon Alley with Draco. Bother that idiotic Slytherin, making everything ten times worse with that show in the street, she sighed internally. "Just an emergency in the office – Mafalda has asked if I can come along right now to try and help sort it out."

She was shrugging on her cloak even as she uttered the lie so she hoped that the colour in her cheeks and the tremor in her voice would go unnoticed. Brushing aside the other two's words of concern she hurried out of the archives and all but ran to the floo points.