PART II: Problematic Solutions
Monday, 1 November 2010
Blaise had not been human in over a week.
Draco couldn't believe the truth of this or the utter lack of ability to do anything about it, according to his mother-in-law, the Healers, and the Djinn Registry in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
From what he understood, the Bonding Vow that he and Blaise originally shared had been powerful enough to bind them together in matrimony but not powerful enough to rouse the Djinn within. Blaise's mastery of Occlumency had ensured that the Djinn was essentially held captive and put into a slumber. Unable to rise beyond the determined iron and ice of Blaise's Occlumency shields, the Djinn had slept and been suppressed for thirty years, never once able to rise to the surface -
Until now.
Until the second time they'd activated their vows and the magic had become deeper, stronger, and blasted right through any shield or barrier that would keep them from coupling completely and thoroughly.
Draco tried not to flinch as another unearthly shriek - al-Djinn, Mother Sarabi called it, affectionately and with the only warmth he'd ever seen from the witch, ever - sounded from the solarium.
The solarium was the only room in their Bordeaux country house that...the Djinn...would reside in, without destroying whatever was within. After three days of repairing every room in the house nearly every other hour, Draco had given in and asked what would make the Creature within Blaise stop raging and rampaging - and he'd been furious when the instant answer had been the solarium.
Mother Sarabi had known the whole time that a Djinn preferred beautiful, gilded rooms that reminded them of their ancestors' lamp-coocoons and could be calmed by copious amounts of sunlight.
She'd never told him, her eyes wicked with warmth instead of unnerving with cold, because Draco had never asked.
Draco tried not to cringe, as another otherworldy volley of shrieks and screeches and undulating came from the solarium.
That had been another thing he hadn't been told until he'd asked.
The language of Djinn was much like that of Merpeople - all frequencies and octaves too complex for human ears to decipher, most times. To his human ears, al-Djinn sent chills up his spine and he still wasn't sure how he felt about it. Cautiously, as the wail of al-Djinn abruptly cut off, Draco leaned against the door of the solarium and peered in, slowly.
"...I'm not diseased, you know. You can come in."
Draco felt abruptly ashamed.
He had known since they were children, intellectually, that Blaise was the offspring of a pureblood wizard and a Djinn-blooded mother. He had never had to experience that Blaise was Djinn, until now - a decade after marriage and over half of his life of knowing Blaise. Draco didn't think that he was showing how much this terrified him and unnerved him down in his spirit.
The wounded note in Blaise's hoarse, weakened voice said that Draco hadn't been fooling anyone.
Pushing the door open deliberately, Draco stepped into the solarium fully. For the first time, the stunning view of the Channel didn't captivate him. Instead, all his attention was on his husband.
Blaise was prone upon the floor, nude and breathing shallowly in a pool of sunlight. While he seemed human for the most part, there was nothing human about how his upper half glowed with a dark gold light, as if it were pouring from underneath his skin. Neither was the glittering cloud of magic that encased his lower half, broiling and brooding around him so thickly that it wasn't clear whether Blaise had legs or not.
Draco was not mesmerized as he should be, but instead, his chest simply ached. This was not Blaise, for all it was what was within Blaise.
"I didn't know if you wished to be alone or not. I know you're...not happy about this." Draco said, quietly, apologetically.
Blaise sneered. The gold luminescence was fading somewhat, allowing his copper-and-honey skin to be seen more clearly. He looked peaked and was paler than usual. "Liar. You're afraid of me and I disgust you. As I said you'd be, if you ever saw the true me..."
Draco shook his head, stubbornly, coming closer to Blaise despite his hair standing on end.
"Stop that. Self-pity doesn't suit you and I'm no frame of mind to indulge." Draco knelt closer as he dared, overtaken by the cloying scent of heat and spice. "I'm not afraid of you, I'm afraid for you, because you haven't been - yourself - in over two weeks. I'm disgusted because nobody seems to want to do anything about it or help you. I could never, ever be disgusted by you, Blaise...not ever..."
Blaise's bottom lip trembled, but he turned away from Draco's cautious touch, defiantly.
"Nobody can help because there's nothing than can be done to help. This is my fault...this is what I deserve..." Blaise closed his eyes tightly, turning his entire body away from Draco and towards the glass walls.
"How is this your fault?" demanded Draco, indignant.
"I wanted to keep pretending I was a pureblood - a wizard! - even though I am a Creature," hissed Blaise, full of self-loathing. "I am not human. My father was human, but I am not and all this time I spent denying it has now come back upon me with a vengeance. My Djinn is angry, he is wrathful of his suppression - this isn't something that is going to end until he makes up for thirty years in captivity. Twenty of which were spent suppressed and buried under Occlumentic shields..."
Blaise made a broken sound, a sound that Draco had never heard from him, ever.
"Ummi said as much, she told me right before the ceremony, but I didn't listen...I didn't believe her just as I've never believed her - but, this time, she was right." Blaise might have sniffed but Draco couldn't be sure. He still hadn't turned back toward him and didn't seem to want to. "She wants me to beg, you know. She hates that I've always hated my Djinn blood and she has always been so very angry that I've been passing as a pureblood, this whole time. Ummi wants me to beg her to teach me how to be Djinn...she'll let me die before she offers, because she wants me to beg..."
Draco stiffened.
Something cold rushed down his spine as Blaise spoke, though he wasn't sure if it was anger or fear or something else entirely. Sarabi Shafiq was a chilled, willingly wicked woman, as unthinkably unfeeling as she was ethereally beautiful, but surely, Blaise couldn't be saying -
"Are you saying there is a chance you could die from the stress of this on your humanity and Sarabi knows what to do to prevent that - and she won't tell you?" Draco said in a low voice. Blaise made a noise, even lower than Draco's voice, prompting Draco to insist: "Blaise. Does your mother know how to help you? Answer me!"
The noise that Blaise made has been a sob, Draco realized with a shock like cold water, as he made the noise again.
Here, laying on the floor and stuck between human and Djinn as if he had downed botched Polyjuice, Blaise had somehow lost control of the iron and ice of his Occlumency shields - and now, he was feeling the full force of his hurt, his hatred, his betrayal, his need for his mother.
Blaise, the proudest and most refined wizard he knew, full of elegance and control and grace that was unearthly and inherent by magic, was laying in their solarium, sobbing and utterly undone. Sarabi wanted him to beg, she wanted her only child to come crawling to her, broken and humbled, before she would do as she was supposed to and help him master and tame his Djinn.
That was why she'd been so wickedly smug and pleased, each time he'd come to her, distressed and begging.
She had been waiting for this moment with vengeance and bitterness every bit as Draco knew she was overflowing with pride and joy to see her birthright finally break free from within Blaise.
It was then and there, kneeling beside his fractured and betrayed husband and feeling something very dark indeed towards his mother-in-law, that Draco made a decision. He conjured a blanket with an absent flick of his wand. Although he knew Blaise didn't want to be touched, Draco used the action of draping the blanket over the trembling Blaise to press a lingering kiss to the damp skin of his shoulder.
Despite the sweaty, clammy feel of his copper-and-honey skin, Draco had the distinct impression that he had pressed his mouth to a vessel of fire - and this time, when he shuddered, it wasn't from fear or unease.
"Rest as best you can and if you have need, Summon an elf." Draco said, rising to his feet. "I'll be back soon, love."
Blaise didn't respond, but Draco didn't need him to. There were times when one had to be the strength in a marriage and do what couldn't be done by the other - and this was one of those times, whether Blaise acknowledge it or not.
Draco reached the hearth and with a big pinch of Floo Powder, he made it clear where he was headed and what had to be done:
"Ministry for Magic - Minister's Office!"
This was the right decision.
Hermione Granger Weasley inhaled deeply, determined that the knot of anxiety and dread that was gnawing at her insides would loosen itself and allow her to enjoy the morning ahead of her. Although this had been a decision that had been made and prepared for well over six months ago, Hermione found that now that the day had arrived, she was a bundle of nerves, doubts, and second-guessing.
This morning, she was resigning her position as Junior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic.
When she'd first accepted the position of Interim Assistant to the Minister right after the end of the war, Hermione had imagined that it was because she was one of the few trusted people that Kingsley had to choose from and it would be temporary. She had only been eighteen, after all. An eighteen-year-old Muggleborn, a Hogwarts dropout, and still recovering from the torture and trauma of the final year of the Second War.
Kingsley had listened patiently to her doubts and her anxiety. He had reserved time in his chaotic schedule to talk with her in as much detail as she liked, as she considered the offer. Only once had he become stern with her, when she'd tried to insist that perhaps the position was more suited to someone who wasn't Muggleborn and less likely to be as controversial as she was. In the end, despite her determination to talk herself out of the rare and significant opportunity, Hermione had accepted his offer of becoming a part of his interim staff as he boldly took on the unthinkable weight of healing a wartorn and wounded Wizarding Britain.
And, the opportunity had changed her life - instantly, thoroughly, and for the better.
Hermione had been focused, determined, and dedicated to becoming molded into the ideal assistant to the Minister for Magic, as Britain had settled down and looked towards rebuilding and moving past the horrors of Voldemort's wars. She'd studied for her NEWTs after getting off from long days at a crippled and hobbling Ministry, passing with the record-breaking scores and earning an official commendation from the Minister's Office when her scores arrived on her nineteenth birthday. She had taken her role as support to the Minister for Magic seriously and become interested in Wizarding culture and history, spending her lunch hours in the Ministry archives and learning about the world she was now a permanent citizen of. In the year that Kingsley was the Interim Minister, Hermione had found solace in the frenetic and thorough pace of the Minister's Office - and, it had been without hesitation that she'd accepted the formal appointment of Junior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic when Kingsley had been formally elected Minister, shortly after the first Victory Day celebration in 1999.
Hermione found her eyes welling with tears, as she considered the past decade she' spent in the Minister's Office and how she'd grown into the witch she was today, because of it.
When she'd started, there was no doubt that she'd been an insecure, anxious, and skittish young girl. She hadn't been comfortable with her powerful magic, her prodigous mind, or her influence as the right hand of the Chosen One. In her own estimation, she was nothing of particular power or importance, not compared to those who surrounded her - but, that'd perception of herself had changed deeply, irrevocably in the years, since. Kingsley had seemed to know this and had been deliberate in the order of her steps, over the years. Each directive and responsibility she'd been given had been for the good of the Minister's Office as much as it had been for her own good, and as Hermione reflected on this truth, she couldn't help but smile through her teary sniffles.
As Junior Undersecretary, Hermione had just enough power to be taken to task and challenged to grow, while the careful and determined guidance of Audrey Crouch as the Senior Undersecretary allowed her as much room as she needed to adapt and flourish in her role.
If it hadn't been for both Kingsley and Audrey, taking her raw power and potential in hand and developing it through the intense, steady, challenging paces the Minister's Office tended to put one through, Hermione didn't think she'd be the witch or the woman was she in the present day.
The Minister's Office had been the defining place in her life, only second to Hogwarts in her life as a witch.
Her resignation felt something like the day of Dumbledore's funeral, when she had left Hogwarts for the final time, if she were to be honest.
However, this was the right decision.
Every bit as much as her decision to drop out of Hogwarts and leave her education behind to focus on a responsibility and a mission more crucial than classes and test scores, Hermione knew that resigning and taking a hiatus from her career to focus on her marriage and her home was the right decision for the moment.
Back then, she had forsaken an education and Hogwarts because she had vowed to follow Harry and Ron whenever they went, in the quest to destroy the Horcruxes and bring down Voldemort, once and for all.
Now, she was now forsaking her career and her political ambitions because she had vowed to be a wife and a mother before a professional and a politician.
Harry had needed her by his side and would not have been complete, without her presence and partnership in the war against Voldemort he had dreamed of ending for years.
Ron now needed her by his side and would not be complete, without her devotion and dedication in their marriage and the creation of the family he had dreamed of having for years.
Both decisions had roused fear and uncertainty, hope and anxiety, determination and committment in her. Both decisions offered the promise of reward and a wonderful, abundant life of peace and love that would only make her life better and more fulfilling. Both decisions had been the most meaningful and crucial choices she'd made for herself in life, thus far.
Hermione took another deep breath and looked around her cleaned and packed office.
Her decision to resign as Junior Undersecretary to the Minister to give her undivided attention to being a wife - and, sometime very soon, being a mother, as well - was the right decision.
It had to be.
Draco ignored the stares and the whispers as he determinedly marched through the Minister's Office, heading towards the personal office of the Minister of Finance.
He was determined that whatever Sarabi had going on, he would see her interrupted - for there was nothing that was more important than her son, even if Blaise was not particularly important to her. With a bit more force than was probably necessary, Draco slammed open the double doors that brought him from the corridor to the small waiting room outside of Sarabi's office. The secretary - Draco could never remember her name - squeaked in surprise and the two or three guests that were waiting looked incredibly startled.
"Oh. Oh, my - Mr. Shafiq-Zabini! I wasn't expecting you." The secretary leapt to her feet, pale at the sight of him. "Minister Shafiq is in her office, but unavailable - "
Draco didn't even look at her as he strode past her desk. "All I needed to know was whether she was in her office. She'll make herself available to me, thanks."
Sarabi was neither startled nor afraid of the sight of him as the others had been, as he walked into her office without knocking and slammed the door behind him. She was standing on a stool before a grand mirror, a handful of house-elves fluttering around her as she clearly was preparing for an event. With that familiar, unfeeling glance that made Draco feel as though she was looking right through him, Sarabi looked fleetingly at him over her shoulders.
"I suppose you've come for another round of histrionics about my son, yes?" said Sarabi, absently. "Do have brevity today, aibnih qanuniaan. I have a mandatory event I must be at in an hour or so and cannot be delayed, lest I be admonished about my tardiness from my dear cousin."
Draco frowned. However, only to be polite, he stated: "You look lovely, wherever you're going. What is the occasion?"
Sarabi rolled her eyes. "Kingsley's pet Mudblood is retiring and he is having a farewell brunch for her, which attendance of his Cabinet is required."
Draco made a noise that was neither interest nor disinterest. "Well, given your limited time because of this anticipated event, I will practice brevity - for what I have to say is simple, straight to the point, and will waste no time."
Sarabi looked over her shoulder, again. This time, she was looking far too closely at him, her unnaturally amber eyes seeming to want to look into him instead of through him.
"Go on," said Sarabi, lightly.
Draco didn't so much as blink, ascending down to one knee and looking up at her baldly.
"I will not allow him to beg, because that is beneath him. However, it is not above me to beg, which I have no shame about doing if it will stop this madness." Draco paused, appreciating the annoyed glint in her eye as he referred to what they both knew was Blaise's Djinn as madness. "Sarabi, I am coming to you as your son's husband and his chosen mate, and I am begging you to come and guide him back into his humanity. Blaise has learned his lesson, now. He understands the value in ceasing to suppress his - his - to suppress what's within. He wants to learn now and I want him to learn, so that he stops suffering like this."
Sarabi sniffed. "You can't even call my son by his name, as much as he demands that you be called by a name that was stripped from you - even if he gave part of it back."
Draco looked down at his bent knee.
While Sarabi had accepted her son had chosen to be same gender-loving, accepted his choice to elope, been ambivalent about whether or not she would get grandchildren out of her only child's marriage - the one thing she'd never been able to accept was that Blaise had married a disowned and nameless Draco. A pauper, after the Lord and Lady Malfoy had turned him out and disinheirted him from the House of Malfoy. Not even the purity of his blood had been enough for her to overlook a wizard with no name.
Despite it being her favorite complaint about him, Draco never failed to be stung when she brought it up. This time, however, he determinedly pushed past and looked up once more.
"Sarabi, Blaise now understands the value in honoring and accepting his Djinn as a part of him and he wants to learn." Draco said deliberately, humbly. "He understands and accepts that he is suffering because he did not honor his heritage and disrespected the bloodline of his birth. He knows what he did wrong and now, he would like to rectify it and start down the path he should have been on this entire time."
Sarabi didn't look at him as the house-elves finished with their last minute touches and her look was completed with a silk wrap covering most of her dark, cascading black hair. She was a vision in deep gold, her amber eyes and dark hair as magnetic as the subtle glow of her copper-and-honey. After a week of witnessing the Djinn come in and out of his husband's weakening human body, Draco understood the glow to be more than a good skin care regimen or a cosmetic spell.
Sarabi was skilled enough to control her Djinn and blend it seamlessly with her human simulacrum. So seamlessly that after all this time, Draco only finally understood what he was looking at, what about his mother-in-law made her a witch of global beauty and unearthly appeal: her mastered and tamed Djinn.
Suddenly, Draco wanted that for Blaise more than he had wanted Blaise to be human.
If there was no turning back from now that his Djinn had been unleashed, if the illusion of humanity was no longer possible as a consistent facade - then Draco wanted this for Blaise, for his husband. He wanted Blaise to have mastery of the Creature within him, just as Sarabi did.
Sarabi stepped from her stool. A graceful move of her hand beckoned him from where he knelt on the floor and cautiously, respectfully, Draco rose to his feet.
"All I have ever asked of my son is that he not believe the heritage I have passed down to him is a stain on his existence and something to be ashamed of. He doesn't think that of his human, European, Wizarding father, thus it stands to reason that I deserve the same respect and honor he accords to his father - who was not even of this world long enough to know him." Sarabi had never been so straightforward or direct with him and Draco kept his silence, raptly, afraid to disrupt the moment. "I have thought of and decided upon the best solution to solve this dilemma for you, but first - Blaise must accept and master his Djinn. There is no other path for him."
Draco nodded solemnly. "I agree, Mother Sarabi. I sincerely do. Thus, on his behalf, please - lead him on this path. He is ready and is willing to put effort into learning how to embrace what he now knows was a mistake to reject and deny before."
Sarabi made a noise that was similar to how Blaise sounded, when he was finally accepting of something he'd been so previously against. A graceful concession, instead of a forced compliance.
Sarabi put her arm out elegantly, clearly waiting for him to offer his arm so that she could lay her arm atop his arm. Continental etiquette was more familiar to him now than it was in childhood, otherwise his surprise at her gesture might have made him stand there like an oaf.
Smoothly, she laid her arm on top of his own arm, and nodded towards the door.
"You will accompany me to the luncheon I am required to attend as Minister of Finance. From there, I will have the solution to the dilemma my son faces and how to stop his suffering."
Draco was startled. He didn't seem to have much choice in the matter, as Sarabi lead them towards the door.
If bearing through an inane event in honor of Granger - well, Granger Weasley, he supposed - was the price to pay to get what he needed to help Blaise, then he would do it.
There was nothing that he wouldn't do for Blaise, now that they faced this problem. Nothing at all.
"Knock, knock!"
Hermione was thankful that she'd taken the time earlier to sort through her fears and anxieties, as Audrey Crouch-Weasley offered her signature greeting upon entering her office.
Audrey had the eye of a hawk and the instincts of a wolf and would be able to tell at once if something wasn't right with her trusted Junior Undersecretary.
"I'm going to miss hearing that, several million times a day, believe it or not," Hermione said with an affectionate smile. "I don't know what I'm going to do without your pop-ins, throughout the workday."
Audrey beamed. "Oh, how far we've come. Remember when you'd go spare because of my pop-ins, insisting that you knew perfectly well how to do your job without my micromanaging and incessant interruptions of the frivolous kind - if memory serves me, correctly."
Hermione laughed, as she put her hands over her face despairingly.
"I was so prickly, back in my early days," Hermione moaned, with amusement and regret.
"And I was domineering and relentless in my early days, so I believe you had every right to be prickly." Audrey snickered, adding, "I wouldn't have admitted it for all the gold in Gringotts back then, but I was a touch intimidated by you and my pop-ups weren't entirely motivated by supervisory responsibility."
Hermione pretended to be aghast. "Don't tell me that the myths are true and Slytherin paranoia had you worried about little old me?"
Audrey rolled her sea-green eyes, grinning knowingly. "You may have felt that you were little old you, but I wasn't fooled. You were not even twenty and more powerful than any of us in this office beside Kingsley. I was intimidated because I knew you didn't want my position - but, I was waiting for the day you woke up and decided that you did."
"And look where we are now," Hermione said, quietly, a bittersweet smiled coming to her face. "Over ten years later, I not only don't want your position - I don't even want my own position, as of today. Slytherin paranoia was unfounded, as always..."
Audrey peeked at her wristwatch, before closing the door behind her and coming to sit on the edge of Hermione's emptied desk. Dressed in resplendent dress robes that were a shade of leaf-green that complimented her eyes very well indeed, Audrey was the picture of dignity, poise, and grace. Her pretty, classically beautiful face was clouded with concern and affection, as she absently reached out and adjusted a bejeweled pin in Hermione's hair.
"I don't believe that you don't want your position, but I can't convince you otherwise, if that's what you're decided on." Audrey said, lightly. "I personally don't see why you feel as if you can't have a Marital Bond and a career in equal measures, but that is between you and my brother-in-law."
Hermione sighed, looking away from Audrey and focusing on the classic window that showed a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. The MagiWindow had been a gift from Kingsley in celebration of her appointment to the office of Junior Undersecretary and it had provided more moments of reflection and meditation than she could count.
Instinctively, she studied the crisp spring day displayed by the MagiWindow as a familiar twist of anxiety and annoyance flared within her at Audrey's words.
"My marriage and my husband are more important to me than a career I can pick up and continue on with, whenever I like." Hermione declared, hoping that the words sounded more sincere than they felt.
"The same principle can apply to your Bonding, you know," Audrey replied, without missing a beat.
"No, it cannot."
"Yes, it certainly can. Your stance is that your career can be picked up and continued on because you have decades and decades of life to look forward to, as a witch. Why can't you have the same stance about your marriage?"
"Audrey, they aren't the same and we've had this discussion plenty of times before. I'm at peace with my decision."
Hermione could feel the intensity of Audrey's stare, as she continued to take in the sights of Paris in springtime.
"Well, then, if we've had this discussion plenty of times, then we'll have to have just once more - because after today, it's final. Are you absolutely sure that you want to resign as Junior Undersecretary and leave the Minister's Office, forever?"
When Audrey put it like that, Hermione wanted to flinch from the cinch of dread that crushed her chest without warning.
Instead, she nodded resolutely.
"I'm sure about this, Audrey." Hermione said, the words feeling wooden as they left her mouth. "I want to be a housewife and spend time focusing on my marriage. I want to spend as much time with my husband as possible, travel Britain with him during the season, join him on press tours and public appearances as a wife should. He played in the Quidditch World Cup and won the Cup for England this summer and I wasn't there for him, because I had to be here with the Minister." Hermione sighed, shaking her head at the memory of the terrible fight that made this day become set in stone. "We've been married for almost a year and it's time that I made my marriage the priority. A career will be there any time I want - but, my marriage is what I want to give my time to, not the Minister's Office."
Audrey looked unspeakably sad, as Hermione nodded once more and met her eyes, stubbornly.
"I have been the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for ten years and with each year, my responsibilities grow and my duties seem to expand in scope, beyond anything that I originally signed up for when I accepted this appointment. Two years into this appointment, Percy began courting me. One year after that, we were betrothed, and the year following that, we were Bonded. Two years after we Bonded, we decided that we wanted to start our family and had Lucy right before our third wedding anniversary."
Hermione could sense where this was going, but couldn't help but smile, regardless.
Audrey warming up enough to her to attend her twenty-first birthday had coincided with Percy deciding that his period of mourning for Penelope Clearwater had come to a peaceful end. Hermione hadn't expected anything to come out of the polite introduction between her superior and her future brother-in-law. She'd been pleasantly surprised when Audrey and Percy had started courting and become incredibly happy for their happiness, when they'd become engaged - a happiness that had only grown when she'd been maid of honor in their wedding and named Lucy's godmother.
She didn't need a guided timeline of Audrey and Percy's courtship and marriage, as she'd been present to witness it all - but, Hermione knew what the point of this was, as they'd been here, many times before.
"Sometime next year, Percy and I are looking to trying for our second, and still - our careers are thriving, challenging, and come only second to Lucy." Audrey gave Hermione a pointed stare, as she added: "Through ten years, a courtship, a betrothal, a bonding, and a child, never once has Percy asked me to give up my career for the sake of our Marital Bond or our family - and, I'd wonder if something was amiss, if he came to me after our bonding and asked such a thing of me."
"I'm happy that you and Percy have found a happy medium, but what is right for you and Percy isn't necessarily what is best for Ron and I, Audrey."
Audrey opened her mouth, as if to press the point - but, just as she began to speak, another knock sounded on the door.
When the door opened a second later, Kingsley stood proudly in the doorway.
"Kings," Hermione said, with true and deep affection. "Come to escort me to the Farewell Brunch that I'm not supposed to know about? If so, I'm all ready to depart."
Kingsley attempted to look stern and annoyed that she knew about the open secret of how the Minister's Office was celebrating her resignation. Instead, he could only smile - perhaps a touch tremulously - as he came into the office and closed the door as Audrey had.
"I am indeed," Kingsley said, coming to stand beside Audrey. His smile was every bit as proud and emotional as that of an adoring father and Hermione felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes, as he confessed: "I'm to be your escort for the morning, as I want to spend as much time with my first ever Junior Undersecretary, before I must bid you farewell, forever."
Hermione blinked fiercely, holding her tears at bay. "Oh, don't you do that, either, Kings! I'm only resigning from the Minister's Office - I'm not resigning from anyone's life. You'll still see me every bit as much as you need to or want to. More so, honestly, since I'll more free time than I've ever had before..."
Kingsley and Audrey shared a look that Hermione was determined not to acknowledge. Kingsley's arrival had effectively halted the uncomfortable conversation that Audrey had been committed to having with her. Hermione wasn't interested in giving her sister-in-law any room to open the conversation back up nor afford Kingsley the opportunity to add in his thoughts, as well.
"You're welcome to come back home any time you get ready, Hermione - I mean it." Kingsley gave her a meaningful look, as he held out his hand to her to help her up from her desk for the final time. "You've sat in this chair since you were eighteen years old and I've watched you grow up into a powerful, influential, and gifted witch. You've made a fine introduction into Wizarding society through this office and although I cannot fault you for wanting to move on with your life, I want to make it clear that you are irreplaceable. Home is where your family is and the Shacklebolt administration will always be your first family, now that you're leaving us to start your own."
Hermione sniffled, as Kingsley had succeeded pulling from her the emotion she'd been pleased to have kept hidden from Audrey.
His words were no less than the truth and not for the first time, Hermione wondered if this was worth what she was sacrificing it for.
With their bonding ceremony earlier this year, Hermione was officially a member of the Weasley family and any children or descendants of hers would be Weasleys, as her name was now blended into the bloodline of the Wizarding family she wedded into.
But, back when she was merely Hermione Granger - the Shacklebolt Administration had been her family and continued to be, up to this very day of her resignation.
In this administration, she was valued and respected and cared for because she was Hermione Granger, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic.
Kingsley had taken her under his wing and guided her, tutored her, trained her, and challenged her, as any father would and with the same depth of affection and pride as if she were his born daughter. Audrey had taken her role as Senior Undersecretary far more seriously than was warranted and had mothered and nurtured Hermione incessantly, although she had become more relaxed and less austere once they'd become sisters through marriage. Even the members of the Cabinet - although there had been a change or two in the decade since the end of the war - were something like a mixture of relatives and friends, constant faces that she had to develop and nurture relationships with for the good of the Shacklebolt Administration.
Hermione allowed Kingsley to pull her into a hug, fiercely returning the embrace as she tried not to sob too loudly.
"Is this a preview of what is to come at my surprise brunch?" Hermione asked, with a rather wet giggle. "More tears than I have the bodily fluid to spare for?"
"Absolutely, and then some." Audrey said, with a sniffle of her own. "I believe Kings has poured all his grief into losing you as Junior into this brunch and resignation ceremony, that there won't be a dry eye in the house. I've done my due diligence in ensuring there are enough handkerchiefs available - so, let the deluge commence!"
Hermione laughed and sobbed, all in once, as Kingsley gave her a benevolent kiss on the forehead, and then held his arm to her.
"Come now, my very first ladies," Kingsley said, offering his other arm to Audrey. "Let's take this last walk together and be thankful for all we've done, in the past ten years together."
Hermione allowed herself to be lead from her office for the last time on the arm of the Minister for Magic, determined not to look back in mourning, but instead keep herself focused on what was to come with peace and excitement.
She tried not to think about what it meant that the thought of waking up tomorrow and not ever having to come back to the office she was leaving behind brought her no peace or excitement, as she, Kingsley, and Audrey departed from the Minister's Office as Minister and Undersecretaries -
For the last time, ever.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: To head off confusion ahead of time, I imagine that when Kingsley "revolutionized" the Ministry, he took a lot of ideas from his time guarding the Muggle Prime Minister and how Muggle government is structured and run to truly bring reform to the corrupted Ministry for Magic. Therefore, where there were vague departments of the Ministry for Magic that were only named as the plot point in the books dictated and there is no rhyme or reason to how a magical government should or could be run...I'm using the excuse of post-war revolution to create a government that simply makes more sense. I've also pulled from several different Muggle governments and blended it together...so, it won't be necessary to point out that the new Ministry is nothing like how Muggle government would be. :)
Onward to the next chapter, which will be the first original/never posted chapter of the rewritten UNCOUPLING! Reviews are welcome!
Arabic-to-English Translations
aibnih qanuniaan = son-in-law
[Edited/Rewritten: Dec. 2019]