Chapter 37: A for Azkaban, B for Birth
Original Characters:
Olivianne "Via" Dench – Head Auror (inspired by Judi Dench's M character in James Bond)
Hypatia Dench Allis – St. Mungos Head
May 7, 2005
Continuation
The two brightest witches of their respective ages were entirely lost on what to do, or what to say just after Hermione's hand collided with Minerva's face. The reverberating impact intensely lingered in the hallway where both women had become stock-still, unknowing how to break off from the strangulating scene.
A weighty struggle to cope with what just transpired was consequently crippling Hermione's customary coherence. She was left completely discombobulated for what she permitted herself. That was, to have physically struck Minerva McGonagall— possibly the most powerful witch in their Wizarding society, and more importantly, the very woman she loved with all her heart…
The confusing situation had also driven Hermione to jarring edges where she was unable to reconcile between her desire to apologise to Minerva for the assault, or to hit Minerva again…
As another second crawled by, the slap's resulting scarlet mark became more pronounced on Minerva's face… In a bewildering way, the regret and the concern just pushed Hermione towards the ugly business of rage…
Pulsing rage at Minerva for the perpetual agony inflicted on her heart… Revolting rage at her inability to quit loving the older woman… And defeating rage for the ever-ending affliction…after every stolen portion of reality that had been spent with Minerva…
The rage was affecting Hermione's magic— pulsating magic flaring at the tip of her fingers and skimming over her skin. This latest cruel exchange with Minerva had uprooted the consuming fury from the depth of her guts... But as usual, when it came to Minerva, the dizzying anger inside Hermione was actually shutting down her faculties, and rendering her useless…uncertain… Unable to slap Minerva once more, yet unable to walk away from the woman…
The tormenting mess would have probably gone on, but Harry Potter turned up at one end of the hallway in obvious haste. There was a momentary apprehension on his face at the wretched tension he undoubtedly felt, but he perceptibly shook himself out of it.
"Got a message of another dark mark," Harry worriedly spoke of the matter that made him seek the two witches. "A possible attack at Azkaban!"
Flashes of Azkaban's breakout from the last war that enabled the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange who induced sufferings to a lot of people roused Hermione from the incensed paralyzing stupor she was under. A rapid shift in mental command had pushed aside the current personal crises that brought forth lucidity. The domineering thought thereby came upon her that she was the current MLE Deputy Head. And Azkaban was definitively within the range of her job— of her responsibility.
Not wasting a second, Hermione turned and began running to get out of Hogwarts. She did not even wait around for Harry, as she assumed that he'd be narrating a bit to Minerva of whatever report he had gotten…
Hermione tore through the castle's hallways, pounded the stretch of Hogwarts front ground, and wrenched open the iron gates to exit. She did not look back during these crucial minutes. And only briefly paused upon crossing the required distance outside Hogwarts in order to concentrate for safe apparation.
As soon as her feet landed at the only appearing point allowed in the prison island, she saw the dark mark in the sky, and involuntarily shivered at the sight and at the dreadful memory it invoked. But she quickly compartmentalized the past. She had to…
Similarly, she shoved to the farthest pit the recent spectacle with Minerva McGonagall. She could not be thinking of the gripping pain. After all this time, after what they had shared with each other just hours ago at her parents' old house, all was dismissed! And once again, painfully over-simplified by Minerva as a mere fuck…
"Bloody fucking woman!" Hermione's angry muttering joined the ramming waves against the island, which then forced her to focus on the crises that she came there for.
Hermione made a sweeping scrutiny towards the main entryway. Even from afar, she could see the emergency shield was up, and she knew that it would cost her precious time to dismantle the magical barrier. Her head was rapidly calculating her next option when suddenly a blast overpowering the sound of the crashing water had her automatically casting protego.
The sparks that reflected on the horizon had Hermione estimating the probable location of where the spells had been casted. She combed her brain for the prison's layout and gauged that the uproar was happening in the section known as the visitors' identity screening exit.
In 1998, after the war, Hogwarts wasn't the only place that underwent major reconstruction. The Wizengamot pushed for Azkaban's transformation, both systematical and of its physical structure.
One reformation that came out of it was splitting the general entry/exit way. It functioned as the prison's single ticket entrance and a one-way exit to the other side of the prison. Moreover, the exit section was constructed with significant configuration of identity verification. The set-up was formulated in consideration of the case of the Bartemius "Barty" Crouch Junior swap with his mother that got him out of Azkaban. Subsequently, the new design had made getting out of Azkaban much more tedious even for a non-detainee.
When Hermione transferred to MLE, one of the things she asked the Minister's clearance for was to access confidential materials about Azkaban. The ton of reading that she did was proving to be useful, as the present occasion was practically demanding for her to run towards the madness.
The golden brain swiftly searched through studied information… First, the obvious route was via the main entrance but that was the longest and farthest route, given she had to breakdown the barrier, notwithstanding the unidentified threat along the way and how she would be blindly coming in. Secondly, the other option was the adjacent, dicey, marginally upward, twisted route that was known only to the Ministry's high-ranking officers and Aurors. Hermione supposed that the latter route was the better plan.
But before she could take a step, more sparks illuminated the darkened sky, and this time, a protruding portion of the prison's infrastructure several stories high was blasted. It had her automatically ducking away behind a boulder and simultaneously drawing a protection charm from any incoming unseen attack or potential wayward fragments.
When nothing of the sort occurred after a few seconds, she stood, about to carry on when Harry showed up at the apparating point. She saw him make the same quick assessment in one sweeping glance. And naturally he caught sight of Hermione.
"Ron headed back to the Burrow." said Harry instantly, in light of the missing third member of their trio as soon as he reached her side.
Hermione's eyes widened at the notion, "Has anything—"
"No, no. Not to worry." He hastily diffused her fear. "But given news of that," Harry pointed at the dark mark in the horizon, "Ron decided that it'd be wiser to be an extra wand at the Burrow while we're out…just in case."
Hermione expelled a sigh in relief. She understood the tactic, and actually felt a huge comfort that Ron would be where Rose was…
And of course, Harry's non-mention of Minerva did not escape her. She dismissed the unease and focused on their next actions.
"The visitors' area?" She heard Harry ask and she nodded in confirmation of the same assessment. "We are then to take the side route," Harry similarly concluded and began taking such direction.
For the next very short minutes, as judiciously as they could, they hurriedly trekked to the eastern part of the prisoner island. They carried on with hyper awareness honed with harmony of each other's every move, a byproduct of their horcrux hunt. Something they had long put aside in the last seven years, and now found themselves bringing forth as they raced towards where the attack seemed to be happening.
Upon reaching the juncture, they found Harry's fellow Aurors: Martin and Matthews; both were part of the latest members who recently finished Auror training. They were crouching behind a strategic stone, breathing heavily, suggesting that they got there mere minutes ahead of Harry and Hermione.
The next sequence of events felt like hyper-speed and slow motion at the same time, with Hermione's mind capturing and saving every moment's frame as they happened a few meters away from where they were shielded…
It started with the capture of a wizard; it appeared that the four of them turned up in time to witness a veteran Auror, a silver haired witch, masterfully subduing someone who seemed to be only in his 30s, and presumably the one who cast the dark mark… Coincidentally or not, the wizard passed out, just as the reported wizard outside the Ministry building, and to Hermione's mental count, the eleven-year-old student at Hogwarts.
As remarkable as it was, the same veteran Auror caught the wizard before he hit the ground with a roping magic… The name of the Auror was Olivianne Dench— the witch was widely known just as The Auror Via.
"Suspect secured…" Auror Via's clear voice rang out unquestionably, and the scene suddenly became silent. "Clear" Via added in assessment of her position, as one of the employed standard field procedures.
"Clear here too," an Auror from another area sounded, and three more of the same message were loudly conveyed. The pronounced clearance generally released the tension and Hermione watched as Harry and the two other young Aurors moved swiftly from the boulder towards the main scene where the suspect was apprehended.
"He's ice cold." Hermione heard Auror Via's depiction of the suspect.
Then in the arbitrariness of everyone's actions in the ensuing moments, Hermione wandered a few meters away from the collective Aurors and Azkaban Officers. She was no fool, for she maintained her ears attuned to her surroundings, with wand readied as she took a look at the debris that had fallen from a destroyed portion several stories above.
Except, not even five minutes into her inspection, a pulsing dark bluish energy attached to one fragment stole Hermione's attention. And in a matter of one breath, her brilliant brain recognized the danger; her instincts kicked in and she cast the most powerful protection spell she could over the area where Harry and others were standing. The hasty calculated trajectory provided the needed protego from an apparent time-delayed dark magic spell.
Hermione intuitively knew that she succeeded in shielding the group even without seeing them yet as the stemming smoke clouded her vision. Unfortunately, she never had a chance to cast another protection for herself as in the same segment of the moment, another time-delayed attack of dark magic had exploded. This one sent Hermione into oblivion.
. . . . . . .
The pounding pressure inside her head and the thorny crushing that enveloped her body were all Hermione could feel. She tried to rake away the heaviness that seemed to be immobilizing her, battling with growing panic against the obscure dark force.
Then she heard several voices, but could not summon enough comprehension for the stifled words that were filtering in. She was frightened that she was imprisoned at the Malfoy Manor, nothing but a subject to be tortured. She tried to voice her pleas but the physical restraints on her only pressed further and overpowered her supplications.
Afterwards, she felt a sharp nip, followed by another that took her breath for a second. It made her mechanically unmoving. And she then resorted to defensively running through her mind to find a way out of her current confinement. However, she could not remember anything and could not grasp her current situation… She was heading into full-blown panic, until she realised that the voices were gone— except one. It was familiar, and she could now make out the words.
"Hermione, you are all right."
Minerva...
She just knew from the familiar cadence that it was Minerva. Except, it sounded so far away, and no matter how much Hermione tried to locate the woman, she could not determine where. She searched and searched for the distinguished pair of emerald eyes and pursued after that well-acquainted lilt.
"Darling, you have to stay calm. You are safe. You are all right. I am here. Just rest, please. I'll stay here with you…"
Words of assurance somehow penetrated Hermione's understanding, and provided her a stronger belief that the person giving the promise was indeed, Minerva. But, every turn she made, Hermione found herself facing such unbearable darkness. The harsh ambiguity was churning inside her for what terror lied therein. Thus, it urged her to seek harder for deliverance, but her futile effort to break free was only reminding her of the unrelenting pain enveloping her. And then, all at once, everything went blank.
. . . . . . .
When Hermione finally gained full consciousness, the first definite thought formed in her mind was why did she feel like she had participated in a wrestling match against an angry Hungarian Horntail…? Every inch of her body was aching, and there was an undeniable vrooming vibration inside her head that could rival those of multiple cars in a Formula 1 race.
"Easy, Mione."
Hermione knew that it was Ron even without opening her eyes. She must have groaned loudly enough that it caught his attention.
"Don't get up. Or I'll have to stun you to make you stay still."
Ron, definitely Ron— the only one who could make her crack a smile despite the roaring ache she felt.
"Where…? What happ—"
"Later, Mione. You shouldn't be making any drastic movement right away. And no questions, for now. Just wait a second, also don't get up. Harry already ran to the healers' station."
Hearing Ron speak of Harry fetching a healer and the obvious pain currently plaguing her, it was a no brainer that she was confined at St. Mungos. The realization that she was under such medical attention prompted her to remember the events— of being at the Ministry for the 7th commemoration, of being with Minerva at her old family house, of checking up on Rose at the Burrow, of the visit and search at Hogwarts, of the trip to Azkaban, of the explosions, and then the nothingness…
Concluding what she could remember, her heart went into overdrive and leaped to the greatest concern— her daughter.
"Rose!" Hermione rasped in soreness, blindly reaching to her red-haired best friend, "Ron, my—"
"Rose is fine, Mione." Ron hurriedly assured her, taking her hand ever so lightly. "She visited you this morning. I arrived with her to see you. And then Molly took her back to the Burrow around lunchtime. If you want me to fetch her, I will. But first, let us hear out the Healers. All right?"
With Ron's assurance about Rose, she decided to just follow his lead, as it seemed the best course over the pulsing pain. She tried to relax and gave more effort to overcome the agonizing sound in her head by soothing her mind… Very quickly, it led her into another recollection… of a very recent memory… or perhaps she had just imagined… that although she could not establish when it was, she had the strongest impression of already gaining consciousness earlier… And that Minerva was there…for her.
Did that happen? Or was it just an illusion from the wistfulness of Hermione's heart...? She couldn't help but sigh in resignation at whatever it was that transpired, because the truth was, regardless of if it did happen or not, one thing was quite obvious— Minerva was nowhere in this hospital right now. And 'I will stay here with you' must have been only possible in her dreams…
She internally sighed and tried to focus on something else… Something to keep her from going down that dark second guessing game. She tried to recite the initial provisions of 'AWE' in her head… But for some reason, her thoughts quickly shifted into memories of the last time she set foot here at St. Mungos… of the time she had been here not on official Ministry business…but because of a personal matter, and that time, she was pregnant.
. . . . . . . .
When Hermione got pregnant, she and the boys discussed in great detail the intricacies of dealing with the rumormongers in the magical society if it became common knowledge that the young, unattached, Golden Brain was actually pregnant. Versus, say, the task of facing the obscurities of it all, after giving birth, with literally no one else having the slightest idea (including family and close friends) that in fact, she had been pregnant.
At first, the boys tried to convince Hermione that they could shield her 24/7 from any tattletales, any naysayers, and more crucially they'd do everything to prevent confrontation from Minerva McGonagall, of which they understood as the primary reason for Hermione's doubt. Harry and Ron had argued that if they did away with the secrecy, Hermione would gain the invaluable care from Ginny, Molly and other witches as she carried the baby.
However, at that time of nothing but bottomless doubts about Minerva's feelings, Hermione was certain of what she could not handle— that it would be either a scenario of Minerva fighting for sole custody of the child under the claim of manipulation to unknowingly siring a child, or even worse, not fighting for recognition of the child at all. The enormous heartbreaking possibilities drove Hermione to go down the convoluted road of concealing her pregnancy, day-in and day-out, with a simple goal to delay the inevitable scandal.
Harry and Ron swore to support and protect her, whichever way she chose. Therefore, they let her proceed with the plan of a one hundred percent muggle medical facility and muggle doctor. When Mrs. Jean Granger stalwartly stepped in and supplied more than her fair share of caring for Hermione by accompanying her daughter to all her check-ups and sometimes even staying at Hermione's house on some nights, it was the reinforcement that took away a huge chunk of their worries. This arrangement went without hiccups for months; Hermione's tummy would only show its true growing size when she was inside her own house with protective privacy via the erected strong wards she had cast.
Except in her 30th week of pregnancy, life served her a wild card, again. The date was 1st of December, year 2000.
Harry had just fetched Hermione from her office; they were on their way out of the Ministry building to meet Ron for dinner. And since it was a Friday, Hermione was much aware of the typically sizable foot traffic at the flooing area. She was already paying particular attention, as everyone seemed to be hailing the incoming weekend. Nonetheless, two rushing young wizards who abruptly veered sideways to avoid someone in front of them accidentally collided with Hermione. Harry caught her just before she hit the floor… The two culprits profusely apologized and could not contain the panic on their faces upon recognition of whose bum they almost sent to the ground… But Hermione simply waved away the wizards, and their repeated apologies, then stirred Harry to go on.
But Hermione's clasp on Harry's forearm signaled that something was wrong even without verbalizing her concern… and it had something to do with her pregnancy, as her other hand was across her concealed overgrown belly…
The dinner date was shoved entirely as Harry redirected them to St. Mungos. Given the shock of the situation, he simply decided that navigating to the muggle world was a lot more precarious in comparison to utilizing the direct access in the Ministry building to get to St. Mungos. In effect, overriding Hermione's preferred muggle hospital plan.
The very instant they stepped into the magical medical facility, Hermione distinctly heard Harry seeking out the nearest staff for St. Mungos Head Healer— Madame Hypatia Allis. Even with a clenched jaw, sweating forehead, and seemingly impending early labor, it occurred to her that perhaps it was the fact that he was Harry Potter and she was Hermione Granger—two popular war heroes that no one questioned their hurrying request for Madame Hypatia.
Much, much later when these blazing moments were over, Hermione realised that Harry probably ran such a scenario through his head (without telling her), just in case… A commendable way of thinking, indeed… He had anticipated that any other magical healer attending to Hermione would mean squandering their shot of postponing the broadcast of her situation… That any other healer and they wouldn't have control of the narrative despite general confidentiality granted to patients, because of course, any item referring to the Trio was simply news…news that would be too good not to share with family and friends and nameless audiences for clout… most particularly this news.
Great timing or not, Hypatia happened to be unoccupied and ushered them to a private room. Not a second after they entered, a subsequent casting of spells occurred: Harry swiftly warded the room, sent patronus to Ron and was going over a second layer of wards when Hermione finally cancelled the pregnancy concealment spell…
To the credit of the brilliant healer, Hypatia bypassed verbalizing her obvious shock to discover that the famous Hermione Granger was pregnant. Despite the disbelief on her face, the healer responded by conjuring a fitting bed, helping Hermione into it, quickly scanning her wand over the bump, and then confirming to them what they've already guessed, "You're in labor, Miss Granger, though short of weeks."
And because she was on her way to give birth prematurely, Hermione had to make fast judgment to ensure proper medical attention for the safety of the baby, and that was to disclose the peculiarity surrounding her pregnancy. Gritting her teeth from the sporadic pain, Hermione could only nod at her best friend, giving her wordless permission.
Understanding and acquiescing to the necessity, Harry dived into telling the healer everything— starting at the nature of conception, massively wincing in discomfort at the altered bodily descriptions, but needing to emphasize that it was all transfiguration magic…that is was all without the grueling concoction of magical potions… a far-reaching divergence from the recorded cases of successful procreation from same sex parents.
"Oh, and the person holding such transfiguration prowess who got my best friend pregnant is Minerva McGonagall." Harry grunted in a mix of emotions including annoyance, agitation, and admiration.
For the second time inside that warded room, Hypatia Allis proved her consummate professionalism with a mere sharp intake of breath at hearing such an account: of the bloody improbable, yet existent pregnancy that was presented before her own eyes, right now … AND at bloody name Harry dropped as the other individual starring in such a delicate situation.
"And yes, it was consensual," Harry rushed the words out to just put that on the table. Then he stumbled to substantiate the situation, "Mione and Minerva are… They are… were… What I'm saying is…in case you're concerned if a transgression happened, the answer is NO…" He exhaled and went on crustily, "Not that we'd ever think that the Headmistress of Hogwarts would ever commit such misconduct… Now though, I suppose, you get the employed pregnancy concealment. That's why! And why no one can know!"
At Harry's additional narrative, the bewilderment on Hypatia's face was unmistakable, but she was undeterred by the overwhelming chronicle. In as much focus as she could muster as a seasoned healer, she went about efficiently providing Hermione the necessary medical attention—placing the well being of both the mother and the baby as the top priority.
A little later, as Hypatia was directing Hermione to do her utmost to ride another wave of cramping, with contractions stronger and closer together, Ron arrived and was admitted into the room. Even though he was pre-alerted already by Harry's patronus of the situation, his shaken face worsened at actually seeing Hermione in labor.
Also, his arrival brought another matter of sensitive discussion amongst the people in the labor room when Hypatia posted a question.
"Why is the headmistress still not here?" At hearing no response, Hypatia looked up at Ron and Harry, who both remained silent. But a shake of the head from the boy who lived made her shift her eyes to the brown eyes of the active laboring woman for an answer.
"She…doesn't…know…" Hermione heavily panpted in between gulps of air.
This time though, Hypatia failed to hold her cursing, "Shite!"
With the disclosure earlier that McGonagall was the other parent, it seemed that Hypatia's brilliant mind had not entertained the idea that said pregnancy concealment did not exclude the Headmistress. The unfolding misconstruction just outstretched the already present tension.
"The hell! Come on, people! Apart from the damning point that she is MCGONAGALL, keeping the truth from her is a step below decency!" Hypatia had obviously abandoned her initial stance of suspending personal opinions. "Oh my Merlin, I'd have never thought you three would be so foolish."
Hypatia's argument was not invalid; it was something the trio was entirely aware of, and had had endless debates amongst themselves over. But ultimately, it was, then and now, Hermione's decision. And as always, Harry and Ron stood by it, no matter what, and to the ends of the world.
"Madame, you don't know the story." Harry barely contained his defensive scream. "When we said, no one can know, it meant—no one else… It is only the three of us, plus Hermione's muggle parents, and now you, Madame. And no one else must know."
Harry's resolute tone probably helped rein in whatever additional disapproving remarks the healer wanted to express. But her utter dislike was still palpable in the way her jaw tightened.
"I…have…to—" Hermione somewhat started to explain, but she could not finish what she wished to say. "AHHHHHHHHHH!" She screamed from the pain running throughout her body with the pressing of the baby to her cervix… "OUUUUUUUHHH!" Hermione cried in wild trashing.
Needless to say, it stopped the fierce dialogue, everybody recognizing the turn to a more crucial stage for Hermione and the baby.
"We're here, we're right here, Mione," Harry promised. He let his best friend crush his held hand, while his other gently affixed the bushy and sweaty hair away from her face.
Ron, who temporarily froze, from Hypatia's earlier spoken censure and Hermione's loud cries, eventually snapped back from his shock. He took Hermione's other hand, and boldly attempted a joke for distraction. "Is the baby already playing quidditch inside you?"
Hermione's response sounded part snort in protest, part laugh at the absurdity, and it was tailed with another scream from the latest feeling of tearing from the inside of her body.
"Your baby wants to come out, Ms. Granger." Hypatia encouraged. "You're doing great, almost there. We need you to do one huge push when you're ready, alright?"
Indeed, it was due. Hermione gave birth to a healthy baby girl, arriving in this world kicking and crying piercingly. And her name was Rose Esmerauld Granger McGonagall.
Although drained of energy, Hermione did not pass out. Blearily but joyously, her consciousness still registered Harry's broadest of smiles and Ron's flooding eyes with happy tears. And as sharp as ever and very grateful, Hermione noted Madame Hypatia's practical and thoughtful actions, as she expertly tidied everything, properly bundling the baby before handing her to Harry. She scanned her wand to check on her, and subtly departed the room to give them their precious privacy with the newly born baby.
Some prudent minutes later, Hypatia came back to recheck the baby and Hermione's condition. She gave them supplies of recovery potions, set-up the baby's check-up dates, and counseled them over do's and don'ts for the initial weeks to come. Moreover, she was not remiss in wringing out assurances from Harry and Ron to take care of the mother and the baby, even though she knew about the Golden trio's profound rapport, as it was a well-known notion all over their society.
Afterwards, Hypatia set out the items contained in a kit that she brought with her: a magical blood lancet, a potion, and a special enchanted parchment. She took the blood lancet and gently pricked the baby's foot to draw a minute sample.
Quite brilliantly, baby Rose merely stirred and slightly whined; she did not cry nor was she awoken by the intrusion… Hermione watched Harry and Ron exchange smirks at the tell-tale sign of Rose's sleeping snobbishness. But the comment she was going to make in reference to her daughter's early nuance got shelved, for she was mesmerized by a never seen display of magic in front of her.
St. Mungos Head Healer was moving her wand in highly intricate patterns that blended in synchronization of the dropped blood and potion into the obviously special parchment. The produced visible emblems of magic swirled for a few seconds, then subsequently yielded to formation of runes floating in the air, before slowly settling on the enchanted parchment, and then all at once, every tendril of magic fully dissipated.
"What was that?" Ron questioned.
In an answer, Hypatia handed the enchanted parchment to Hermione and she realised that she was presented with the official birth certificate of her daughter— the converted runes into English text of Rose's genetic makings and magical signature descriptions.
"She is a McGonagall." Hypatia exhaled in astonishment, "Conceived through sole transfiguration, as proven with that." She gestured to the birth record held by Hermione. "Rose is the only one, at least as far as I know; no records carry such distinction… I imagine that's why in reference to official rankings, Masters talk of how Minerva McGonagall's transfiguration power is unquantifiable." Hypatia reverently declared.
Hermione heard the uttered truth… She and Minerva had a daughter. And that Minerva was divine in the field of transfiguration.
She thought back to that Seventh of May; when her passionate urges led her into asking Minerva to transfigure intimate parts for another kind of amorous encounter. But Minerva's fucking transfiguration supremacy transcended Hermione's exploration of intimacy, resulting in an impossible pregnancy, all the more complicating the twisted matter between her and Minerva.
And now, with a newly born beautiful baby girl carrying Minerva's magical makings, Hermione did not need her golden brain to be certain of the other arduous concerns. This thing with Minerva was, and would never be easy… And just a moment after that conclusion paraded through her mind, Hypatia was already on her way to lay down another.
"The birth registration…" Hypatia again gestured to the irrefutable proof in Hermione's hand— which contained therein the distinctly inscribed names, Hermione Jane Granger and Minerva Isobel McGonagall, as Rose's biological parents. "I believe that you're aware that it is mandatory to tender that to the Ministry population records."
That was one reason why Hermione did not want to give birth in the magical institution. She knew that the attending healer must forward within 24 hours the genes and magical signature records of the newborn to the Ministry. The fine was too grave for both the mother and the healer for non-compliance. Not to mention greater requirements such as publication of the child's birth in major Wizarding newspapers and filing of more paperwork by the Wizengamot.
That was why she fully counted on her preferred birth plan using the muggle system. Because if that had been the case; it would only mean a name entry of her child in the magical population book…that withholding declaration of "McGonagall" in Rose's name would be a non-issue, so long as she entered her daughter in the records division. That would have been a much, much, less problematic scenario…
Of course, never in a hundred years could she have predicted that she would be in a foot traffic collision during Friday rush hour in the Ministry building, triggering an early labor, which trashed her muggle birth plan completely. And now she was faced with the necessity of submitting Rose's birth records or being severely penalized…
Fortunately, there was one saving provision for Hermione…and that was the allowable concealment binding of the record.
It stated that the healer who aided in birthing was authorized to make the confidential binding, and only upon the request of the mother… It would make the record still accessible to anyone at the Ministry Records Department, but would only appear in its limited form, in effect hiding some of the details that must not be available to the public, appearing with the barest information for common reference.
"Yes. I know about the required submission…" Hermione confirmed. Then she added her request to Hypatia, "But you must have guessed how I would ask for the records concealment."
"Yes, we could bind the records." Hypatia acknowledged the request. However, she had to educate them on the setback involved in the records concealment. She could not help the sigh that escaped her before she began speaking of it. "Hermione, you still have two things making all of that moot."
"Ahhh, that Rose can unseal the registration to peruse the real contents when she becomes of age? That I've known too," Hermione correctly addressed one of the two things Hypatia had cautioned. "But I think, she would not have to ask for a copy until—"
"What?" Ron warily intruded, "You mean Rose can see the record and find out that she's a McGonagall?"
"Only when she reaches Wizarding legal age and gets hold of a copy," Hermione answered.
"Bullocks! She's going to hex all of us if we don't tell her before she comes of age!" Ron twittered in distress.
"Mate, we'll have time to figure that part out…" Harry halted Ron's very valid but also much too early to handle headache. He did not let Ron argue back; he was determined to handle issues one at a time. He turned to Madame Hypatia and asked, "What is the other one?"
"The other point of concern is the magical entitlement granted to the registered mother." Hypatia defined the concept to them furthermore, "Meaning, it does not matter that the birth registration has been sealed by the healer, the registered mother of the child can receive a complete and authentic record, anytime she asks for one."
"That's all right, right?" Ron's brows drew together in confusion. "I mean, obviously Hermione is the mother who need not… not know."
But Hermione already caught the connecting fact. "So is Minerva… She is Rose's other mother."
"Hence, it is moot!" Harry gasped, and ran a hand through his black hair. "No point in Healer's concealment."
"Yes." Hypatia frankly replied. "Just as I supposed, you have every intention to hide the truth from Minerva McGonagall, who is in fact, excluded from everyone else who would only access the limited version. When…or if she does request for a copy, she will be sent an exact copy of what you, Hermione, as a mother, could access…a consummate authenticated copy."
Fucking hell.
The magical entitlement was news to Hermione. Not the provision per se, she knew about the mother's unrestricted access. But Merlin, she entirely neglected that the damning claim was fucking applicable to Minerva McGonagall— being the other mother.
.
.
.
End of Chapter 37
Year 2005 – A for Azkaban, B for Birth
Posted 2022.0605
AN:
Had to write Rose's arrival.
