Happy Saturday and Happy Hanukkah to those that celebrate. (Yes, I know it starts Monday, but I won't see you before then now will I?" And thus begins the ball rolling downhill to crush the people we don't like. Enjoy. Usual legal disclaimer since it has been a minute, I own nothing. Except for student loans, I don't own them anymore. They are paid.
Chapter 59 His Day In Court.
March showers gave way to April flowers. After a tiny amount of testimony, a judge granted Arthur Weasley's petitions for divorce and to distance the other two from the rest of the family. Molly and Ron were instructed to use her maiden name, Prewett. Ginny was notified she could no longer use the Weasley name for anything as well. She wondered what keeping Rowle's name would cost her. Molly debated on not telling Ron, but realized his exploding at his trial could be rather damaging. He took it better than she expected, "This is what you meant by choices, isn't it?"
"It is. I'm sorry it came to this."
"Just another crime to answer for," he said darkly. Neither of them mentioned who they thought should be answering, in case the aurors were listening.
For herself, Molly got very little in the divorce. The Burrow had been in the Weasley family since its construction and belonged to the family as a whole, not just Arthur. He could not be forced to sell it, nor be forced to pay her half the value. He granted her the furnishings therein, except for specific items. She had to quickly procure most of them from pawn shops and the second-hand shops she had sold them to. As she worked to take care of the home and raise the children, the judge gave her three years of alimony. Her Aunt Muriel invited her back to stay at the ancestral Prewett home, for a price. Molly would need to find a job to pay her share of expenses or agree to be the woman's servant. That would have to be avoided at all costs.
By Ron's mid-April trial there was no denying or hiding Hermione's pregnancy. Her well develop abdomen rounded tightly. Marcus delighted in touching it when she allowed and talking to the developing baby. He discovered that fetuses could hear him by reading the books she provided. So, she tolerated it, even when she wanted to smack him. Barnes asked her to wear something that displayed her condition tastefully. Narcissa took her shopping for a maternity dress that ticked all of Barnes' boxes. "I want the visual to make the judge and press sympathetic," he explained. "You come from a powerful family, with powerful allies. We need to paint a picture of vulnerability in your seemingly iron facade. You are not untouchable, he can and did touch you."
"I will endeavor to look as demure as possible," she promised.
To help set the picture, Marcus sat with Harry, holding Meredith on his lap. Luna sat closer to the front with Hermione. Instead of her large husband, she sat with another small witch. As much as she hated looking weak, she wanted the book thrown at Ron, so she would look the part. Ron was seated at a table near his barrister without chains or other restraints.
As the primary victim, Barnes called her as the first witness. Slowly, she made her way to the witness chair. When she looked in Ron's direction, she placed a wary hand on her rounded stomach. Her unease grew as the tips of his ears rapidly turned red. His face flushed an ugly color. She knew what was coming a split second before he exploded, "You ungrateful, bitch! How could you go and fuck him? You know you belong to me! You're going to pay for all of this!" He stood and started for her. Hermione curled around her abdomen and dropped behind cover as best she could. A figure covered her body with their own. She heard Marcus's roar and Harry's yell. Chaos ensued. She remained in her little shelter until Marcus reached her.
"Hermione, are you alright?" he asked assisting her to her feet.
"I'm fine, just a little shaken up." She looked at her savior. "Thank you, Mr..."
"Goyle, ma'am, Alexander Goyle."
"Thank you, Mr. Goyle. Are you related to Greg?"
"He's my cousin."
"I was in his year at school." She gave him a weak smile.
Marcus clapped him on the back, "Thanks, mate."
"Doing my job."
"You should still expect a large delivery of cookies as a way of thanks. Hermione's been in a baking mood and the house elves indulge her." Marcus chuckled. Hermione play swatted him, gratefully for his teasing manner.
The judge called the courtroom to order. The aurors restrained Ron in his chair with chains. A silencing charm was placed on him. "Mr. Flint, please escort your wife back to her seat." He waited until she was seated to continue. "In light of the fact that in front of this bench, in full view of this court, Mr. Prewett committed several of the crimes he stands accused of I am proceeding directly to my verdict. On the charges of assault: guilty as charged. On the charge of battery: guilty as charged, three charges of child endangerment: guilty as charged, two charges of attempted succession tampering: guilty as charged. We will reconvene in two weeks for sentencing. At that time character witnesses may be presented. From both sides. Courted adjourned."
Fleur sent Hermione a dinner invitation, suggesting a meeting of former Order members. The twins had taken to calling the group the Neutrals. She sent Marcus off with Adrian for a boys' night. She gave the latter strict instructions to distract her husband from the delusion that she would come to grievous bodily harm if he let her out of his sight. "Put his head back on straight before I knock it off."
The French witch engulfed Hermione in a tight embrace, "Ma cherie, I was so upset when we heard what happened."
Bill chuckled extracting Hermione from his wife's arms. "Fleur forgot English for a solid hour, she was so mad."
Victorie hugged her as well, "Maman made birdie face."
"Did you help Maman calm down?" Hermione asked. The toddler nodded. She carried her into the front room.
"No one is pleased with Ron right now," Kingsley said. "And I'm sure Molly's about to descend with her demands that we defend Ron's character." He looked at the floor, "And I just can't. This investigation cemented things for me. The Order of Phoenix may have begun as a noble endeavor, but Dumbledore corrupted it for his greater good, making it us no better than the other side."
"Well, maybe a little better," Remus remarked. "But Hermione's influence has tempered the other side greatly. And her presence seems to be keeping them on that path."
"Finding a way to irradiate their chief prejudice helped. And giving Voldemort what he wants: power, will keep him agreeing with me."
Tonks frowned, "The real question before us is what do we tell Molly?"
"That she raised an entitled monster. Everything is her fault. She indulged him, spoiled him, and giving him the power to make one person obedient to him made him believe everyone owed him obedience," Luna declared bitterly.
Bill frowned, but Fred nodded, "Ron's always been a bit of a bully, and had problems when things don't go the way he planned."
"We could say it nicer," suggested Remus diplomatically.
"Can we though?" questioned George. "Tactful and nice isn't sinking in. None of them are as vocal, but they still blame Hermione for everything. I went with Dad to change the wards after Mum left. It looked like a tornado went through. You name it, Mum broke it. She left a note saying she hoped the heartless little bitch was worth everything she cost our family."
Fleur shook her head, "She words it as a jilted lover."
Tonks groaned, "I know we're officially neutral, but the remainder of the Order is fanatical. Hestia Jones approached me about taking the ministry. I shut her down because we were at work, but now I'm worried they have something moronic planned."
Hermione looked at Harry, concerned, "I can pass along your concerns if you like."
"I think you should. This stalemate needs to end." Tonks said.
"Agreed," added Bill, "things can't keep going like this. The Order is finished. Dumbledore used us and is gone. Who knows what crazy scheme he left for them?"
"I can find out," Hermione gave them an evil grin.
"That doesn't solve what to tell Mum," pointed out Fred.
"Do you want," replied Harry. "Defend Ron, or don't. Go blast all his flaws, or say nothing. There is no party line here. We all need to decide what we think we need to do. I want him to rot in prison, but not be driven insane into a shell of his former himself."
Luna nodded, "I want him to suffer sanely. I want him to remember why he's there every second. Not because dementors stole his joy, but because he can see life passing him by outside."
"He's already insane," Hermione said quietly. "So long as he is never allowed near innocent people again, I don't care where he goes. Everyone agrees that we will all decide what we want to do and no one will hold any decision against anyone else."
"Exactly," Remus nodded.
Hermione baked Goyle a dozen cookies, Varl baked him two. Voldemort insisted on joining her to deliver them. "Alexander has been on a short list of candidates to take the mark. Such dedication to duty should be rewarded."
Not having an opinion either way and assuming her opinion didn't matter to Alexander on this issue, Hermione remained silent. Goyle looked about to faint when Corbin Yaxley, Pius Thicknesse, and Lord Voldemort personally thanked him for protecting Hermione. She smacked Yaxley's hand away as she handed him the basket of cookies. "These are for you. And regardless of what he says you do not have to share them with anyone." She shot Yaxley a look. Voldemort rested a hand on the middle of her shoulders to begin to send her away. "And, no, I do not need or want a nap. Ask your questions and we will leave together."
"Mr. Goyle, have you any interest in joining the same organization your uncle and cousin have?" asked Voldemort.
"Would that be your elite one, sir?"
"Yes, that is the one I mean."
"I would be honored to even be considered, sir," Alexander answered eagerly.
"Splendid. Someone will be in touch to make the arrangements."
"Thank you, sir."
"You earned it, my boy." He looked at Hermione and then back to Goyle who nodded his understanding. She rolled her eyes. "That concludes my questions, my dear. Shall we?" He offered her his arm.
She took it, "Sounds good to me. Coming Corbin?"
Yaxley began to decline but caught something in her gaze. "I always escort you in, I should start walking you out." Together they started towards the atrium. "Shall we adjourn to my office?"
"No, but I want to invite you to the dinner Aunt Cissa doesn't know she's holding tonight."
"I would never dream of missing an event Narcissa held," he promised.
"Good," she beamed. Turning to Voldemort, "We should go explain it to Aunt Cissa."
"That would help facilitate things," he agreed. They used the floo bank to travel to Malfoy Manor.
"My lord, Hermione, what brings you by?" greeted Narcissa.
"A member of the Neutrals brought some concerning news to my attention. Would you host a dinner for some Inner Circle members for me?"
"Certainly, darling."
"Yaxley just needs to know a time."
Narcissa nodded, already making mental notes and plans, "I will inform him. I expect you and Marcus at six thirty. I want time to fuss over you properly before the others arrive."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then you can tell everyone your news over the meal." Narcissa looked at Voldemort for confirmation.
He nodded, "That sounds perfect as usual, Narcissa. My thanks."
Hermione thought for a second, "Is Headmaster Snape very busy this afternoon? Do you know?"
"I would think he could spare you ten minutes if you needed him," Voldemort assured her.
"More like I need in his office. But Dumbledore mistreated him, too, so I like to share the torture." Narcissa rolled her eyes, smiling fondly.
"I'll let him know you're coming. Use my floo, it connects to his personal fireplace," Voldemort chuckled.
Hermione emerged from the fireplace to a barrage of questions. "Any nausea? Trouble with your appetite? Fatigue?" Severus asked.
"Uh, no to all of those."
"Excellent," he handed her a box of vials. "Prenatal potions of my own creation. Geared towards the individual pregnancy."
"Thank you, Severus."
"You are most welcome, Hermione. What brings you here?"
"I wanted to speak to the dead. One that can't walk away or lie anymore."
"Yes, he's become most sullen as of late. Especially during the hour Minerva and I read aloud to one another. She just couldn't wait for me to finish my book. We're almost done."
"I do love a gift that keeps on giving," she giggled.
"Indeed. I fear I must leave you to your conversation. I will give Minerva and Fillius your greetings. They send their own. Since Minerva's discovery of Dumbledore's crimes, the staff has become more cooperative. Especially with the changes to the curriculum next year."
"Good. Well, you're a busy man. Don't let me keep you."
"I am, and I won't. Though since I have you, a question." He looked uncertain.
"Yes?" she encouraged.
"Would you be willing to present some of the information you've found in Circe's estates? She's a revered figure much shrouded in mystery."
"I'll look over everything and see if there is enough new information to put together something," she promised.
"That is all anyone can ask. Thank you." He gave her a small smile. He escorted her down into his office, "I will leave you to your meeting."
"I wish you didn't have to go. Part of this is going to be great fun," she laughed. She walked over to the corner where Dumbledore's portrait hung. "Hello, Albus, how have you been?"
"Miss Granger," he nodded.
"I have changed my name, you may address me as Queen Hermione, first of her name. I suppose I could allow your majesty." The portrait figure stared at her, "Fine, Mrs. Flint."
"As in Marcus Flint?" questioned Dumbledore. Hermione wondered if her marrying Ron had been Dumbledore's plan as well as Molly's.
"Yes, but my family life is not what I came to discuss today."
Attempting to maintain control, Dumbledore twinkled at her, "What shall we discuss then, my dear?"
"The contingency plans you gave to the Order," she answered flatly.
"Mrs. Flint," he said condescendingly, "we both know only Harry can defeat Lord Voldemort."
"I am ignoring that, we both know you had plans in case he failed and died. What were they?"
He tried to fight the compulsion to answer, but Severus kept the truth varnish on his painting fresh. "There were a few, one to attack Inner Circle members at home, one to infiltrate Lord Voldemort's stronghold, and another to attack the ministry."
"What would any that accomplish?" she asked.
"Destabilizing the enemy, proving we are a force worth reckoning with, that we could defeat the Death Eaters."
"Not anymore, the Order is mostly the much older members and the Prewetts."
"The Prewetts?" Dumbledore asked in confusion.
"Molly, Ronald, and Ginny, well I suppose Ginny's still a Rowle for the time being. But after the stunt of forcing a wedding while she was up the duff with Harry's kids kind of puts paid to that come May."
Dumbledore blinked, still not comprehending what she meant.
"The former wife and youngest two children of Arthur Weasley."
"Arthur divorced Molly?" he asked, stunned.
"And disowned Ron and Ginny," she confirmed.
"Why would he do that?" Dumbledore demanded, scandalized by the very notion.
"Something about no longer being able to ignore the mistreatment of her fellow human beings. Mistreatment caused by your charms and encouraged by your demands for your greater good. Apparently, the side effects of those charms addled their brains somewhat. They both blame me for all of their problems. Ginny was simply spoiled into uselessness. She also blames me. I've been a very busy bad influence."
"A family has fallen apart, surely this saddens you?" he asked reproachfully.
"Why should it? The parts of the family I care for, and that care about me, have rallied together to support one another. Family can be who you want. Harry is my family, and I am his." She glared at him, "Stop distracting me. How does the Inner Circle attack work?"
"Several powerful members would break down the security wards once the anti-apparation and floo-blocking wards were placed. Once that was done we would attack the house and all within."
"So, you would mimic a Death Eater attack?"
Dumbledore drew back like she had slapped him, "What? No, never, we would have never killed anyone."
"Yes, because that makes all the difference," muttered Hermione. In a louder voice, "What about the one to attack the ministry?"
"No interest in the one to attack your lord's stronghold?"
"One, he's not my lord. Two, he doesn't have a stronghold." Dumbledore gave her sad look like she was being naive. "Explain about the ministry."
"We would wait for a major event where there would be a large gathering of the general public. This would help us blend in. A large number of Death Eaters would be present, too. Once the general public sees us rising against the fiends, they will join in. We might fail to kill Voldemort, but we could destroy his power base here in Britain."
She stared at him in horror, "At what point did people stop telling you no, or did you just stop listening?"
"Whatever do you mean?" he inquired, confused.
"That plan is suicidal, not to mention all the innocent bystanders."
"Nonsense, they would join us."
"That poisoned ring addled your brain more than we thought. Goodbye, Albus, do enjoy your slide into infamy."