You better get your arse over here asap, HJP.
He would usually wince at the sight of her abbreviation for his full name, but the text came just as he was wrapping up for the day, and he suspected after her conversation with Kingsley. He turned the lights out, usually last to leave the department as the Head Auror anyway.
He barely landed in her fireplace five minutes later when he was pierced with a firm glare from the sofa. It would have been much more impressive if she wasn't wearing her plaid pyjamas and clutching a tumblr of what he suspected was gin in her hand.
He didn't even ask and summoned the bottle of firewhiskey she kept at her flat just because he visited so often, and sat down in the armchair beside hers. "I take it you've received a proposition?" he asked.
Hermione took a sip from her glass and sadly realised she wasn't enjoying her favourite peach gin as much as usual due to her anger. It has always been there, especially growing up with two angsty teenage boys, but it was rare for her to properly lose her temper these days. Tonight though, she was feeling more than angry.
"You knew. You knew and you didn't tell me," she said quietly.
Well fuck. Angry Hermione was scary and brilliant in so many ways. Hurt Hermione made him want to curl up and hug her. Hurt-angry Hermione was just downright terrifying though. "I couldn't," he tried to reassure her. "You know if I could say anything at all, I would have warned you weeks ago when we were preparing for the vote. I was under magical oath, still am, but now that you know, I don't feel like I'm fighting to say a word every time I'm near you," he admitted, running a hand through his already unruly mop.
A fraction of her anger subsided because she knew it was true and for that part she couldn't be angry with him. But she was still, albeit irrationally, upset that he took a part in the vote that would impact her life so severely. She was used to raising her voice for those who weren't listened to, who didn't have agency. To have her right to speak up taken away was something she was still struggling to get used to in this world. "Doesn't matter that we fought in a war, lost our childhood and came out scarred for life, we must once again do our duty. Lie back and think of England. It's like the fucking Handmaid's tale! First I'm not human, but rather reduced to my blood status, and now instead of finally settling into my department and making a real change, I am going to be reduced to a broodmare," she practically growled before her eyes turned from the flames and zeroed in on him.
Harry knew better than to interrupt one of her rants mid-point.
"What about those who have partners who are beings? What if you don't know you're a veela or werewolf mate, you get paired with someone in this law and then down the line discover you don't belong with that person at all? How many of these matches are going to be successful? And what about the LGBT community? What are they proposing to do about these matches? I mean *you* were on my list Harry! As if!" she scoffed and took another sip of her drink.
Harry bristled at that. "I have my flaws but I would like to think I can make someone happy," he pointed out. "Plus, the Ministry is giving us a choice - to not take part in the law, or to accept a triad relationship - with a partner to bridge the divide, so to speak," he tried to explain, though he couldn't help the slight grimace at her incredulous look.
" Ministry-encouraged polygamy?" She was glad she was sitting. She tried to imagine what that would be like - she a straight woman, with two husbands, one bisexual who enjoyed both of her partners and one gay who would have a platonic relationship with her but they would all co-parent…. She knew it wasn't a taboo but even in their culture magical triads were more rare than common, and usually involved three consenting people all in love with each other. And if anyone wanted to have multiple partners, she was all for ensuring they had the right to do so, as long as they were all happy and consenting. This model just seemed….wrong and forced somehow.
She rubbed her forehead tiredly and sank a bit further into the sofa in bewilderment. Harry saw she ran out of steam and reached over to gently squeeze her knee. "I know this is quite a shock and I think your anger is justified. My life doesn't have to change if I don't want it to. Yours will, significantly. If it makes you feel better, I voted with Kings on incorporation of other wizarding communities but we were outvoted by three quarters of the Wizengamot lords," he revealed just how crushing the defeat was.
She looked up at his words. "That's why you've been a bit out of sorts for the past couple of months?" she asked, realising he hadn't been his usual self, the subtle signs there.
Harry nodded. "It took me a while to stop ranting myself. You should have seen Kings though. When we came up from the vote to his office, he had to ward it, and blasted the fake window with a flick of his wrist. Two minutes later he spelled it back to order and called for some tea as if nothing had happened. In all my years working with him, I've never seen him losing magical control."
"Speaking of Kingsley, you seem to know about him being my first match?" she asked.
He hummed at the burn of the whiskey in his stomach, easing the difficult conversation. "He called me into his office this morning actually and showed me the results. He asked frankly if I intended to…fight for your hand, so to speak, so he knew how to approach his meeting with you later. He knows we are very close and wasn't sure if I was going to try and argue for us to wed for friendship and comfort," he explained.
Hermione felt touched by the gesture. Their compatibility was absurdly high but he would have stepped aside for her to marry her best friend instead, if that was what she wished for. It added another piece of the Kingsley puzzle for her. "What did you tell him?" she asked curiously.
Harry shrugged. "I decided fair was fair and came out to him. He was a bit surprised, or at least I think he was, he did raise an eyebrow," he grinned at the memory, "but then assured me he could arrange to keep my preference quiet until the end of the month at least. I quite frankly think he would be a decent match for you," he said honestly, the grin gone and his eyes earnest.
"You do?" she asked, pulling her feet up under her to get more comfortable.
Harry nodded. "You're both incredibly smart, and passionate about your work and making a difference in the world. Where you're stubborn, he's more laid back but stands his ground when it matters. He may be a bit older but can you honestly imagine dating someone like Seamus, Justin, or Merlin-forbid Cormack? You would either have them for breakfast, or end up killing them and I remind you once again, there are no books in Azkaban so that's not a viable option," he added a bit teasingly at the end.
He was being genuine when he said he thought they were well-matched though. Hermione would have someone more mature, experienced and intelligent to keep her on her toes, and he wouldn't admit to it out loud but Kingsley most certainly needed someone young and brilliant at his side to help shoulder the pressure of the office.
"He's the Minister for Magic though. I don't know if I can be the First Wix. I mean look at the previous record - Fudge's wife didn't have a public life and died of a blood malediction in her twenties, Scrimgeour never married, and Thicknesse's wife was killed by Death Eaters," she pointed out, her near eidetic memory rarely failing her. "The Office of the First Wix of Magical Britain hasn't been held properly in three decades, and I don't know if Kings would expect me to take it up but it would make sense politically as I'm already in a position of power at the Ministry. And what about my current job? I love working on restructuring the Ministry and getting rid of these ridiculous, bigoted, sexist laws, and I don't know if I can lose that on top of losing my freedom and choice over my husband and my own body," she choked a bit on the last words, the weight of the situation finally settling in. The next few decades of her life, if not the rest of it, would be decided this weekend.
Harry sat beside her and put her gin glass aside before pulling her into his arms. He knew gin usually made her cry, and though her words were clear, he was sure it wasn't her first glass. He was positive that her tears were however for what could have been. Her parents died in a muggle car accident before she could restore their memories, and though they didn't remember her, Hermione's memories of their love and their partnership were strong. As rational as his best friend was, she was also hopeful for a real love and partnership in her life when she was ready. Sadly, there was nothing he could do for her, and as much as he loved her, a marriage of convenience could hurt their friendship.
She calmed down after a while, blaming the lethal combination of PMS and gin for her sniffles and looked at Harry tiredly. "Have you eaten?" she asked.
Harry was about to lie but his rumbling stomach gave him away. "Not since lunch," he admitted.
After some leftover ratatouille and a couple more drinks, Hermione shuffled into bed and soon fell asleep as her tired and tipsy body had enough of the stress of the day.
Kingsley sipped his steaming coffee and checked his phone for the fourth time that day. Not because he didn't want to check it more often, but he decided to not spend the whole weekend focused on awaiting the text. He didn't expect her to contact him until Sunday afternoon anyway. Hermione Granger had several excellent qualities, one of them being her meticulous methodology in planning. If she was to decide her future, he suspected she was designing one of those charts she always made before laying out her argument and making her demands and policy recommendations. So he settled in for the wait.
This was the first completely cleared weekend he's had in a couple of years. He tended to work at least six days a week, always hosting some sort of delegation on the weekend. In between the office, and his workouts and duelling to blow off steam, he only managed to read and get some sleep. The post-war regeneration was a mess and they were finally getting to a level place where most departments were now structured and functioning well. Now that they sorted out the emergency changes, some of the real work could begin, starting with reviewing Azkaban policies and use of other Ministry assets, and understanding what the wizarding community needed now that he was given another seven year mandate. He knew he could rely on two people especially to help him implement these changes and keep order in the country despite the looming Repopulation Act - Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
He was just taking out the lean beef mince from the fridge when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He looked at the screen and wondered whether the unknown number was the caller he was expecting.
"Hello?" he picked up, not introducing himself just in case it was someone else.
"Hi, it's Hermione," her melodious answer came through though slightly distorted by the line. She called and it was only Saturday night. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.
"Hello Hermione, what can I do for you?" he asked.
There was a moment of silence before she continued. "I'm sorry for calling at this time but I was wondering if we could talk? Face to face?" she asked, hoping she wasn't interrupting some sort of gala or other evening plans.
He looked at the clock and at the beef before making a decision. "I was just making dinner, would you like to come over and join me?" he proposed, wondering whether that would be comfortable or if she preferred neutral grounds.
She briefly contemplated going to a restaurant but the media were aware the Minister was integrated with the muggle society as well and their privacy wouldn't be necessarily guaranteed. "Sure, I can be there in about an hour if you send coordinates?" she suggested.
"I'll text them over now," he agreed and did so after they hung up and notified his security that he expected a guest.
He gave the living room a cursory look but knew it had been cleaned on Thursday so it should be alright. He made quick work of chopping vegetables and browning the meat before smothering it with one of the handy tomato sauces his cupboards were stocked with, and looking at the wine rack for a red to add to deepen flavour, with a hint of magic to fast forward the time for the sauce to settle. He hoped she enjoyed Italian.
When he answered the door later, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of her. "Welcome," he opened the door and stepped aside for her to come in.
Hermione pocketed her phone and looked around curiously. "Thank you, you have a lovely home. I didn't think many wizards lived in muggle neighbourhoods!" she admitted, looking around the spacious reception room. It was a tall, easily five-six bedroom townhouse in Knightsbridge, surrounded by other muggle townhouses. She could feel the pulse of powerful protective wards, no doubt set up by the security detail. Her two bedroom flat felt very small in comparison.
"Not many do, but I bought this while looking after the muggle PM during the war, and it has served me well since. I didn't see the need to move afterwards. I set us up at the small table in the kitchen, I hope that's alright? My dining room table is a bit of a part-time office at the moment," he admitted as he led her down the hall to the kitchen.
She peered into the dining room they passed and smiled when she saw half of the table covered with paperwork and reference books. It didn't look dissimilar from her own corner table tucked in by the kitchen. "Of course, I don't want you to go into any trouble for me. Smells delicious," she complimented.
"I hope you like Italian?" he asked as he put some fresh spaghetti into the pot to cook.
"Any time, pasta is my guilty pleasure," she admitted, setting her handbag down. "I brought something to drink, wasn't sure what you liked other than whiskey, so I got wine and beer," she held up two bottles.
"You know, I haven't had a proper pint of beer at a pub in a few months," he admitted.
She chuckled. "Always tastes better from the barrel than from the bottle. I don't have it often but this one is a chocolate porter, I like the dark notes and it should suit the meal."
"Do you mind sharing?" he asked, pulling a couple of beer glasses out.
She smiled and poured the drinks while he finished preparing their meal and bringing it over to the table. He pulled out her chair and noted the hint of surprise in her smile before she took a seat and he joined her. It wasn't a romantic dinner, or the intention certainly wasn't there to begin with considering he didn't even know if she was here to accept or reject him. But surely rejection was easier over the phone than in person? Either way, here she was, looking a little nervous but lovely in her skinny jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt, almost as if she already belonged. Stop it, his pragmatic mind hissed.
"Thank you for seeing me tonight. I wasn't sure whether you were working," she admitted, not sure of his schedule. There was a nervous flutter in her stomach that never used to be present there when she spent time with him before. Their situation was already changing that and she didn't know how to quite feel about it yet.
"I'm having a rare weekend to myself. I hope to have more of them now that the elections are over and the reforms can take a slower pace. Not that it was planned but a slightly less strenuous schedule will fit the current situation as well," he admitted, knowing some paternity leave was to be expected in the future even though he was the Minister.
Hermione took a bite from her spaghetti, contemplating his words. "I wanted to see you tonight because I would want to go into marriage with our expectations clear and us being on the same page," she admitted. And Merlin had she been thinking about it all day before she got the courage to call him.
Kingsley nodded before taking a sip of the porter. "This is lovely by the way, thank you," he acknowledged, enjoying her pleased smile. "I think that's fair. Some expectations of the married couples are already stipulated, such as a swift wedding and having at least two children. Beyond that, it's what the couples make of it," he summarised.
"Okay, let's say we agree to marry. What about the other expectations of your office?" she asked, starting with work. "I would have to accompany you on the social side of course, but would that have to be every event or could that be decided based on schedule?" she asked.
"I'm sure we could work out our schedules and if I feel it is necessary to have your company and your charms, I can always try and notify you as much in advance as possible to prevent any clashes," he suggested.
"And the office of the First Wix? Would I be expected to take the office and leave my current post?" she asked, and he could clearly see it was something that worried her.
Kingsley took another bite of his food as he contemplated the question. Just as the muggle PM and many presidents held a 'First Lady' or 'companion' positions for their spouses, the office of the First Wix served to support the current Minister post and often had an agenda - education, poverty, creature rights - a key focal point for the First Wix to be vocal about to bring about change. He knew Hermione had experience with both lobbying and charity work and could quite frankly hold the office without a problem but he wasn't sure it was what she desired and certainly had no wish to make any more decisions for her.
"I wouldn't wish to impose any responsibility on you beyond the decisions already being made for us," he made clear before his gaze deepened as he took her in. "On the other hand, I think there is a way to combine your accepting the position of the First Wix and remaining in your current post, if that is what you'd like. We are planning an overhaul of outdated legislation. We would serve as an example of a mixed marriage, a muggle born and a pureblood. Who better to take on the topic of integration and modernisation than the Deputy Head of DMLE and First Wix in one?" he pointed out.
She offered a smile over the rim of her glass and he realised his response pleased her. He chuckled. "Really Hermione, I hope you know me better than that. I would never deny you a choice of career, study, or freedom to learn or research to your heart's content. Whether you get tired of the Ministry eventually and change careers or decide to run for the office yourself, I would support you," he offered honestly.
She nodded with a sheepish smile. "I thought so. You gave Harry and I a chance to make a difference based on our skill and passion, disregarding the outrage about our age. I know you judge people on merit. I just needed to hear it, I think," she admitted, looking at her plate for a moment before taking another sip of her porter and getting to the more personal questions.
"What expectations do you have of a wife?" she asked. He clearly didn't expect her to be a housewife as many purebloods still did, but beyond that she wasn't sure.
Kingsley set his fork down and contemplated the question silently for a moment before levelling her with his dark gaze. "I would hope for a wife who is open to getting to know each other, making the most of the situation and trying to find a way to each other. Marriage is hard work under normal circumstances and this is quite extraordinary. I would hope we could work on our communication or find what works for each of us to de-escalate a disagreement, for example. If my wife were amenable, I would like to share one home and one bed beyond marital duties, it brings a couple closer," he remembered the wisdom his mother passed onto him many years ago.
And since they were on the topic, he wouldn't shy away from making his intentions clear. "I know sex during ovulation will be mandated by the Ministry, but I would hope to have a wife open to having a healthy partnership in all aspects. If not, I am prepared to settle for companionship with the mandated contact," he reassured.
Hermione nodded as she finished her portion and set her fork down. "Thank you, for being so candid. I think it's only fair to say I would require all of those conditions in return," she acknowledges, glad they were on the same page. She sat back with her legs crossed and picked up her glass, glad to be holding onto something to get through the tough bit. "Do you remember me telling everyone that my parents moved to Australia for safety at the end of our sixth year?" she asked and at his nod continued. "I didn't just send them there, I obliviated myself from their memories, changed their names and arranged for them a new start without having any knowledge of me," she explained, watching his pupils widen slightly, the only outward sign of his surprise as he continued to encourage her silently.
"They were killed in a car accident but my mum was pregnant at the time, they were starting a new family, maybe having a new Hermione," her lips quirking into a small melancholy smile. "I grew up knowing what love and partnership was through them. They shared the chores, the decisions about their clinic, our home, and about me and my education. They rarely argued, but when they did, it was because it was important and they had to find a way to see each other's point. I've always wanted that kind of love, respect and partnership in my own future," she admitted.
Kingsley nodded, looking at the young woman before him with renewed respect. Making that decision and successfully modifying someone's memories so extensively without turning them into a living vegetable was a testament to her gumption and magical skill. And so far it seemed that their core values were well-aligned to make a good start. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I can't promise you such a bond just yet, but I think with what we know of each other, we could be happy," he offered.
Hermione smiled and nodded. "One last thing. I would like to…well, date," she stopped herself from calling it courting, as that wasn't what she really had in mind. "I know your schedule will be packed and there will often be times when you leave late, but before the wedding and for a few months afterwards, I would like to find time at least one day a week to have lunch or dinner together and get to know each other better and catch up on our day," she stipulated.
Kingsley's lips stretched into a pleased smile. "An opportunity to spend more time together, how could I say no?"
Hermione chuckled. "Then you have my answer," she set her glass down with a smile that mirrored his. Despite the circumstances of this arrangement, she felt hopeful that she had been matched with someone who clearly cared to build a partnership and family with her. He was still an enigma in many ways but it was true that they had the rest of their lives to get to know each other.
Kingsley picked up their plates and carried them to the sink, returning shortly with a couple of slices of dark chocolate cake and a small velvet box that he set before her. "Thank you. I know you disagree with the law and this isn't how you wanted your future, but I am glad to be matched with you, and would be honoured to have you by my side," he offered as he took his seat across from her.
It wasn't fanfare, and he was no shining knight getting on one knee, but Hermione never needed that. His honest words and being welcomed into his family was what she valued most. She carefully opened the small box and found two cream coloured pearls surrounding a small, tasteful diamond, all set in a shiny yellow gold band. It was delicate and elegant but practical and not too extravagant, just as she liked. "Thank you, it's beautiful," she smiled.
He picked the ring up and squeezed her hand gently before sliding the ring onto her left ring finger, watching the band adjust to her petite hand. "Thank you, for agreeing to be my wife," he kissed her knuckles, pleased when her breath hitched slightly at the touch of his hot lips against her skin.
As they tucked into their dessert, Hermione's resentment to being placed in this position softened around the edges at the hope that somehow wormed its way into her heart.