Chapter 21: The Cousin of the Librarian
Hermione rolled her shoulders and shook her head. She rubbed her thumb into the palm of her opposite hand and steadied her breath. Once more into a fight for her place in a world she loved. Once more, having to prove she belonged in a world that wouldn't exist if it wasn't for her. She was tired.
"This is a fucking joke." Harry hissed as he stood beside her outside one of the auxiliary courtrooms built during the Death Eater trials. It hadn't been used since then. "How could Kingsley allow this?" He continued.
"You said yourself, one head is all it takes to initiate a full hearing, and they get to set the terms." She pointed at the small door. "I'm sure their aim is to bring me down a peg or two." Hermione swallowed. She hated railing against authority. It was just she was so bloody good at it.
"I'm sitting with you." Harry grabbed her shoulders and turned her to him roughly. "If Deirdre Barlow wants to give you a dressing down, she can give me one too." Harry straightened his tie. "See how that works out for her." He smirked.
"it's no wonder they all hate us." Hermione grinned, kicking the door open with the heel of her shoe and flooding their corridor with noise. The panel was already in an all-out verbal brawl, and the hearing hadn't begun yet. The bulb of a camera flashed, and Hermione grimaced. They'd invited the press. She wondered what they thought they had on her, which warranted such a dog and pony show.
The public gallery was open, and she spied a pate of white-blonde hair. Draco smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes in response. Of course, he'd come. He'd said as much when she'd got the owl on Sunday informing her of the summons. Apparently, watching her give the old boys a good tongue lashing gave him his jollies.
"Miss Granger." The Clerk of the court, Agnes Fairbanks, nodded at her and indicated the table in front of the raised panel. Every department head was in attendance, even old Smeaton from Mysteries.
"They're not going to stick me in the inquisition chair?" Hermione asked the old woman with a chuckle as she slipped into her seat and felt Harry do the same to her left.
"I wouldn't let the bastards." Mrs Fairbanks gave her a wink and moved to her own desk beneath the raised dais. The arguing ministry officials fell silent as eyes turned on her. Hermione blinked and remembered Draco's hands on either side of her head the day before. He littered her whole face with kisses as he told her over and over how important, unique and talented she was. For the first time in a long while, she believed that.
"Why is Harry Potter here?" Deirdre Barlow, interim head of transportation and decidedly annoying twat, trilled from her position next to a furious looking Kingsley Shacklebolt. Deirdre was the type of woman people assigned an animal to. The kind of woman with no real interests or personality traits, so incredibly bland, folk just collectively and psychically decided she must like 'frogs' until her work desk, and home shelves are littered with amphibian themed trinkets.
"As this unnecessary hearing has been opened to the public, Hermione Granger is entitled to our protection." Gill Hasslebeck, head Auror, snapped as he leaned forward to glare down the long judges' bench at Deirdre. His sandy blonde hair bounced with indignation.
"Then he can stand in the corner." Deirdre crowed, very much too absorbed with her moment in the spotlight to realise what a faux pas she'd just made.
"Stay where you are, Potter," Gill ordered as if Harry had any intention of moving.
"Nobody puts Potter in a corner," Harry whispered to Hermione, and the pair snorted with laughter. Their contempt for the proceedings did not go unnoticed.
"an inquiry into the complaint made by Miss Hermione Granger against Marcus Pitt has been called into being by three Department heads." Agnes Fairbanks, the small, plump, grandmotherly chief Clerk of the courts, bellowed from her desk. The tiny woman had no time for any of them. "would the three Heads state their names for the record."
"Deirdre June Barlow." The woman who had three weeks left as head before her boss returned from maternity spoke primly.
"Robert Ashcroft." The head of Games and Sports boomed. Hermione was not surprised.
"Dennis Lawson." Hermione took pause. Her own head of department was speaking and looking anywhere but at her. Camera bulbs flashed, and Hermione felt betrayal crawl up her windpipe. She'd run that man's department for him, fixed massive flaws in his system and brought more money into his department than ever before. Scum. "I think you've got a bit above your station, Hermione." The man spoke when a continued silence fell in the court. Hermione shook her head. Why was everyone always so keen on reminding her of her place?
"I asked for your name, not your life story." Agnes tutted and waved her wand. A quill started scribbling furiously on a piece of endless parchment.
"I'd like it put on the record that I strongly object to this three-ring circus." Davina Smith from intentional, a woman who favoured a pant-suit and a closely cropped bob, spoke loudly. The quill scribbled.
"Add my name to that objection." Arthur Weasley offered Hermione an encouraging smile.
"And mine." Gill Hasslebeck was ruddy with indignation.
All of the other heads of department, barring the three toads who'd summoned them to this tiresome display, shared their objections, and Hermione tried not to smirk.
"To treat the victim of an attack so callously…." Davina was almost shouting as the panel fell into an argument again.
"We have evidence indicating Miss Granger created a work environment that drove Mr Pitt to extreme measures!" Robert Ashcroft pounded his fist on the extended bench.
"We gathered her memories yesterday, Bob. You've seen them! He came at her with a bloody bird and called her a…." Gill trailed off, arms wide with disbelief.
"She was detrimental to that poor man's mental health." Deirdre shot back.
"He's an adult man who brings birds to work. I don't think his mental health was on that solid a ground to start with Barlow!" Rory Pince, the cousin of the librarian and head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, laughed. Mr Pince was the boss of Gill and Arthur and probably the second most powerful man at the ministry.
"The birds are part of his job!" Ashcroft hissed.
"Actually, they're not, he just started bringing them in, and Mr Lawson couldn't stop him." Hermione finally addressed her superiors, a small smile tugging on her lips. She could feel Harry shaking with mirth beside her. Mr Lawson did not deny her assertion because he could not. Robert Ashcroft groaned and slunk into his seat, realising too late that he'd hitched his star to a very wonky wagon.
"What say you to the accusations that you've consistently interfered in Mr Pitt's personal life, jealous of his engagement to Celia Butterworth." Deirdre sneered down her nose at Hermione.
"You clearly didn't read the ministerial court of inquiry code." Hermione pushed herself to stand, letting the heavy chair scrape loudly and painfully slowly on the stone foundation. She could see Malfoy laughing out of the corner of her eye. Hermione took a breath and moved her chess pieces about. She had options "As the victim, I'm entitled to make a statement, after which you are entitled to question me, " Hermione looked to Agnes, "I think that's right, madame Clerk?"
"Yes, Hermione dear, you're spot on." The elderly woman cooed before shooting eyeball daggers at Deirdre.
"On Friday, Marcus Pitt, my colleague, called me a Mudblood, a word I had carved into my body." She let that sentence hang, the other unspoken half being ' while saving all your arses.'. " He punched a wall and maimed my file clerk. His bird lacerated my cheek and then took a steaming shit on me."
"Miss Granger, this is a court. Watch your language." The fat former Quidditch player, Robert Ashcroft, scolded her.
"Robert, this is a workplace tribunal. The stakes aren't that high, also there's no rule which states I can't say whichever shitting words I like." Hermione was beyond furious.
"I'm asking for some respect." The ruddy sportsman closed his eyes and nodded, brimming with superiority.
"That's earned, sir, and you don't work nearly hard enough for mine." There was a gasp from the gallery at Hermione's sass. She canted her chin defiantly. "I'll continue then, shall I?" The Minister nodded, an amused smile tugged at his lips.
"Mr Pitt is a menace. This is his second outburst in a matter of weeks. I have submitted my memories for evaluation, as has James, my file clerk. There's no deviation from my story in those memories. This whole thing is a farce." Hermione slapped her open palms onto the wood of the table before her.
"Mr Pitt has presented me with a note he found in your office." Deirdre lifted a tasteful and small sheet of grey paper. Hermione glanced at the gallery to see a suitably guilty-looking Malfoy sinking lower in his bench.
"Yes, he mentioned a letter. I still haven't seen it as it was stolen before I could cast my eyes over it." Hermione gave a thin-lipped smile. She wondered if the three snakes had handed the letter out to the other heads or if they intended to use it as a 'gotcha moment' here in court.
"Darling Granger…" Deirdre began, and Hermione frowned. It was the latter.
"You could just hand me my mail and let me read it," Hermione suggested, casting her eyes to the other heads of department. "Given that it's clearly addressed to me and has yet to actually be delivered to me ."
"You're dabbling in mail tampering here, Deirdre," Pince warned. If the threat from the most powerful law enforcement official in magical Britain scared her, the woman in charge of the trains didn't let it show.
"Last night was a dream. Your moans are imprinted on my synapses, the feel of your wet…." Deirdre was interrupted as Harry Potter gagged quite loudly, and Hermione snorted a laugh.
"This is absurd, Minister! She gets about 9 anonymous, sexually explicit letters a month!" Gill Hasslebeck barked, thumping the table so hard his glass of water jumped. "Is that note signed?"
"No, it's not, but that's not the point. This letter implies that Hermione Granger has been engaging in sexual acts on ministry property!" Deirdre brandished the letter, standing triumphantly and waving it. Hermione frowned. This was it? This was their big moment? Judging by Ashcroft's face, it was.
"And so do nine others." Gill shrugged. "We've got a lad in custody who's been sending her his underwear sporadically."
"I'm popular with the perverts, it would seem," Hermione spoke placidly, entirely unimpressed with their paltry attack. She heard a loud bark of laughter from the gallery and had to hide her smile.
"Do you deny it then?" Deirdre's voice shook. She was on the ropes. Her bombshell had merely fizzled. The press, usually taken by salacious gossip, seemed unbothered by the infamous 'letter'. If the wizarding press had a knut for every time a lad claimed to have shagged the golden girl, they'll all be able to buy a few pints.
There was a moment of silence as Hermione looked around the room, a misty expression on her face. Draco leaned forward, concern and anticipation etched on his brow. She hadn't told him what she planned on doing. She'd merely said, 'I'm weighing my options. He felt a tickle at the front of his brain and smiled. He'd been trying to teach her the silent library spell over the weekend, given their sexual activity had been put on hold.
Get one of the journalists to ask about my new wage. You'll know when. Her voice was gone faster than it appeared, and Draco smirked. Something was afoot, and he was a part of it. This must've been what Hogwarts was like when you were friends with Hermione Granger, orders and plots and gumption.
Hermione took a deep breath through her nose and out through her mouth. "I'm so tired of fighting for my place in this world." Her voice was small. It shook a little. This was her truth. She felt Harry's hand on hers, offering her support. "I shouldn't be standing here, facing the indignity of being asked whether or not I partook in the acts listed in an anonymous letter which I have not read."
"Damn right." Davina from international looked livid, "Minister, I request that you use your authority to end this display. Their evidence is a letter that Mr Pitt claims he found somewhere in her office. For all we know, he wrote it, as part of his vendetta of hate against his Muggle Born, female superior." Oh, Davina Smith bloody knew what that felt like.
"I have to agree with my colleague unless you've anything to add Mr Lawson, as Hermione's superior?" The Minister for magic spoke in a bored voice. He'd given them enough rope to hang themselves.
"Nothing." Lawson, too late, realised what a big fucking mistake he'd made.
"Then let's end…." The Minister was interrupted by Hermione. She cleared her throat and drew her hands up to her hips.
"Let's not." Hermione tilted her chin and narrowed her eyes, and Draco Malfoy felt the thrill of arousal tickle his nether regions. It's showtime.
"I'm so tired of fighting." She repeated with a sigh, "But I've realised I'm going to need to continue fighting, and since that's the case, I'd like to do it on my terms." She nodded and took another steadying breath. "I thought I could help change the ministry from within, but that's impossible. So I'm going to help change it from the outside. I quit." there were several gasps and a flurry of lightbulb flashes. "And as I've recently been the victim of a workplace attack, I don't have to submit my notice or find a replacement, because thems the rules, that right Agnes?" Hermione grinned.
"Aye, quite right, sweetheart. You're under no obligation to stay in a place you feel unsafe." The Clerk grinned back. She'd miss Hermione. One of the few people who'd bothered to learn her name.
"Hermione, let's talk about this. In private?" Kingsley said gently, with a fatherly nod.
"I really did want to do this in private, Minister, but… I think we're a bit late for that now." Hermione gave him the same half-smile she'd given him when she was 16 and covered in dirt. Kingsley's heart broke a little bit. He'd imagined a future where he mentored her to replace him. Imparting his wisdom to her and moulding her to become the next leader of Britain.
"Hermione, you cannot lead a life without purpose. You are not that kind of person!" Kingsley looked at her imploringly. "I understand your anger, but this is not the solution."
"I've already been offered another position. I shan't be without purpose" Hermione bobbed and looked to the gallery where Draco whispered into a confused-looking reporter's ear, "I'm going to be working full time with the House-Elves. Advocating for them, ensuring their continued prosperity. So you'll still be seeing plenty of me." Hermione smiled sweetly, but the three treacherous heads knew it for what it was, a threat.
"Will the elves be paying you a salary?" A journalist, whom Draco had been whispering to only moments before, bellowed from the gallery.
There was a titter of laugher.
"They will indeed." Hermione beamed at the watching faces, "One Galleon a month." The muggleborn girl who wouldn't back down baited the hook and let it hang. There was a roll of laughter at her declaration.
"That's not enough to live on, Miss Granger" Bob Ashcroft would be the fool dim enough to bite.
"I'm glad you agree, sir, as that's the recommended wage for freed house-elves according to ministry guideline." there was a wave of murmured shock and outrage from the gallery. Pince was grinning at her. The elder statesman had caught her game from the off and clearly enjoyed watching it play out. "I'll look forward to seeing your signature on my campaign to increase their living wage, Robert."