Ron's anger level seemed to shoot through the ceiling. Hermione had to physically grab his arm to stop him from storming out the door on some mad quest to find someone to pay for this injustice. Harry too had stopped his pain in its tracks and was now holding onto Ginny, arms wrapped around the girl in a way that came off as fiercely protective. Molly was pacing back and forth, crumpling the letter into a smaller and smaller ball, clearing trying to figure out what to do to stop this. Even Hermione was starting to feel like the nervous energy that had been steadily building up inside of her was going to explode at any minute if she didn't do something big to stop it.
Arthur was the only one of them that hadn't moved. He was still sitting at the table, staring down at the wood, hands clasped in front of him. No one had noticed.
"He killed Dumbledore!" Ron was now screaming, and Hermione had thrown all of her energy into trying to calm him down. It wasn't helping anyone.
"No, Ron. That was Severus Snape, remember? A man who just happened to not be evil at all?"
"This is different, Hermione!"
"You don't know that! Remember how terrified he looked, at the manor?"
"When you were being TORTURED!" Ron was red faced, with a vein throbbing on his neck. Hermione could see that his knuckles had gone white from the way he was gripping the chair that he was now standing behind, clinging to as if it were the only thing holding him up. He looked terrifying and terrified.
"Ron. RON! This is not helping, you screaming like this!"
"Why are you defending him, 'Mione? You out of everyone should know he isn't worth defending!"
Hermione was not calming down at all, she realized. Ron bringing up Malfoy Manor had brought the pain in her arm soaring back to life, and her muscles seemed to be tightening, waiting for the next Cruciatus. He didn't realize, she tried to tell herself, as she took deep breaths and tried to drown out the chaos of the house and dug her fingernails into her palms. He didn't realize what he was doing to her because they had barely spent enough time together since the war for him to notice that she hadn't gotten over it quite as well as she kept telling them all that she had.
Harry was the one who noticed, in the end, that she was standing in the middle of the room with her eyes shut, breathing in small short gasps, tears leaking out of her eyes. Harry was not always the most perceptive person, but when he did eventually notice things he always did whatever he could to fix them.
"That's enough." He didn't shout or raise his voice above Ron's anger or Molly's mutterings. He just spoke clearly, calmly, full of authority. Harry was a natural leader. There were reasons why so many had followed him in the first war, and surviving a curse from an evil dictator wasn't the only one. Even Ginny seemed to react, finally taking a deep breath and lifting a hand to wipe the snot and tears from her face. Harry looked around now that their eyes were all on him, sans Hermione's, and nodded once before he spoke. "Right. Clearly this is something that needs to be addressed. Arthur, if it's alright with you maybe the two of us can go to the Ministry and explain this situation to Kingsley and see what can be done?" Arthur nodded in assent, still silent, and left the table, presumably to go get dressed. "Ron, mate, George left about twenty minutes ago when this all happened and I'm honestly a little worried that he's going to do something stupid and get himself killed. Can you…?" Ron also nodded and followed his father out of the room.
With the chaos now mostly gone, Hermione was able to take a real deep breath and open her eyes, staring over at her friend. She didn't quite feel like she could speak yet, and the room was still spinning precariously around her, but it was a step. Harry was able to smile slightly at her before he continued.
"Gin, what can we do to help?"
The redhead thought this over for a moment, pulling back from Harry and continuing to rub her hands over her blotchy damp face. "I'm going to get my broom. I need to smash some bludgers around, I think." Harry smiled easily at his girlfriend.
"Brilliant plan, Gin. Hermione, I assume you don't want to go with Ginny?"
Hermione felt like she could have laughed at that, and the realization that she had real emotions again after the shocking terror of a few minutes earlier was a welcome feeling. "No, absolutely not. But, why don't I go to the Ministry with Arthur, and you can stay here and fly together? I'm good at the bureaucracy stuff, and flying would do you good as well."
Harry hesitated over this for a minute, because Hermione still looked quite shaken up, but he relented when she placed her hands on her hips and stood her ground. Eventually, Harry stood and walked around the table to wrap her in a tight hug, and she forced herself not to break all over again at the thought of what was to come. "We'll talk about all of this tonight, okay Hermione?" She nodded and then watched him leave before making her way around the table to Ginny, wrapping her arms around the seated girl in much the same way that Harry had just hugged her.
"You have nothing to worry about, Gin. He's yours, always, and I'll do whatever I need to do to make sure you two can still be happy."
Ginny nodded in her arms and sniffled, but did not cry. "Thanks, Hermione. I know you two would never, that you don't… but, I just…" Hermione nodded in understanding and kissed the top of her friend's head affectionately.
"Go get your gear on. The fresh air will do you a world of good."
Unfortunately, as she had predicted, going to the Ministry had not accomplished anything. Hermione and Arthur spent most of the day being bounced from office to office, told they could speak to one person who would then direct them somewhere else. Eventually, Hermione asked where she could go to make a complaint and then were sent into a whole other process and group of people. Finally, she had gotten so angry and frustrated that she snapped.
"Do you know who I am?" It was a sentence that she hated more than almost any other, using the war that she had been a pawn in to get something she wanted. The clerk, luckily, did not realize the distaste dripping around her words and cowered a bit under the woman now standing in front of her desk, hair a large cloud around her face and hands clenched into fists.
"Y-yes, ma'am. Hermione Granger, you, uh, you defeated V-v-"
"Don't hurt yourself." She said, voice clipped and tone flippant. "I want to speak to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Immediately."
The clerk had disappeared from the office, scurrying off down a hallway and leaving Hermione to drop back into the chair behind her, deflated.
"That was very good, Hermione." Arthur commended with a smile at the girl beside him. "You really are quite a force to be reckoned with."
Kingsley appeared in the small office only a few minutes later, unaccompanied by the clerk who the office belonged to. "Ah. Hermione, Arthur. It's a pleasure to see you both again so soon, though I doubt it's for a positive reason."
"Look, I'm just going to get straight to it, Kingsley. I am not happy about this law that has been pushed. Frankly, I think it directly contravenes our rights to freedom in this society. I have been told that it is a law that has been enacted before and that it was passed through the appropriate channels and that 'it is simply the way things are done here in Wizarding Society'. I am not pleased, Kingsley." She paused, gathering her thoughts.
"Is there more?" It was only then that Hermione realized Kingsley looked just as exhausted as he felt, if not more so. Part of her, the vindictive part, cheered. Good. He should look exhausted. He had ruined her life. The more rational part of her recognized that Kingsley had probably done everything in his power to avoid all of this nonsense, and that he was probably just as unhappy about it as the rest of them. It only helped a little bit.
"Harry Potter gave up his entire childhood to save this ludicrous wizarding world. He faced Voldemort as a baby, and then again as an eleven year old, a twelve year old, at fourteen, fifteen, sixteen - and then defeated the darkest wizard in modern history at seventeen years old. He spent his younger years living with abusive muggles who he could have been saved from, but instead he was used as a pawn in Dumbledore and the Order's games, kept in the dark, and then built up into a warrior out of necessity because none of you would listen to him." She was angry, now. She knew parts of this were stretched truths. Harry had a 'saving people' thing, and even if they had tried to stop him (which, she recognized, the Order sometimes had) he did not and would not listen.
"The point that I'm getting at, Kingsley, is that this man, more than anyone else, deserves a happy future. He deserves to marry the woman he has loved since he was a teenager, who has loved him back longer still. He deserves to make beautiful messy-haired babies and be Arthur's son-in-law and not have to worry about the Ministry ruining his life in any other way for the rest of it! And don't get me started on the implications of suggesting that Ginny Weasley should marry someone whose father actively set her up to be possessed by Voldemort and then killed."
Kingsley sighed, dropping his face into his hands and scrubbing at his skin. "I agree, Hermione." His voice was quiet, and he pulled out his wand then, flicking it around the room to create a private space for them to have this discussion without eavesdroppers. "Trust me. I fought so hard for this not to be passed. I fought hard for there to be the ability for people to choose their own partners. I fought even harder to keep Harry out of it, and I was very, very displeased with how some of the matches turned out - my own included."
Hermione raised a brow at him, urging him to continue to explain why he then could not change anything.
"The Wizengamot is terrified, Hermione. We have had a higher proportion of squibs, and one of the lowest general percentages of births, in the past two years than ever previously recorded. Our population is in serious decline. We lost a great many brilliant wizards in the war. Many people married quickly during or after, but because of this their genetics may not have been as properly matched as if they had waited to find someone they truly loved. You see, no one is really even entirely sure how or why the magical gene gets passed along. But there are markers for compatibility, things we have found increase the chances, sometimes dramatically, that a child will have magical abilities. And unfortunately, the best compromise I could negotiate was that we not actively force members of our population to reproduce sexually with one another. The last time a law like this was enacted, in the 1700s, the couples were expected to copulate weekly until they were pregnant, and if this did not occur within six months then a Ministry official was sent to watch to make sure it was happening."
Hermione gasped, horrified. Arthur frowned, his chin in his hand as he listened to Kingsley.
"So, I know it still seems horrendous, Hermione, but can you see what I've managed to accomplish? I was able to push the deadline for pregnancy to two years. They compromised and it is written into the law explicitly that the child does not have to be born of intercourse, so couples may seek alternate methods. Beyond that, the compatibility screening was very comprehensive. If you take away what the world has placed onto you - the prejudices we learned as children, the morals we developed - and leave behind who we truly are, each of the partnerships should be able to produce happy couples. People who have a chance at true love, if nothing else stood in the way. But... I recognize that there are things that stand in the way, unfortunately, that some prejudices cannot be overcome.
"Listen, I know this isn't an ideal suggestion... But the Ministry will not repeal this law until we have some proof that it is working, until the proportion of babies born with strong magical potential increases. But, after that happens, there will be leeway. Leeway to call for the law to be overturned. Which means, it may be easier to come back in a year, year and a half, and convince the Wizengamot otherwise. You understand that I am not telling you this, that I am not and will never be able to publicly condone this without losing my position. And believe me, Hermione, the people who want my position would make this much, much worse."
Hermione had to concede at that point. Kingsley was right: whoever was next to take his role, or who would ensure they were next, could be one of those people who had sneered down at her while offhandedly suggesting she had no real understanding of wizarding culture. They could be one of those people who would be complicit in rape, who would encourage it for the sake of the population. Kingsley was a better choice. Kingsley was on their side.
"What about Ginny?" Arthur spoke for the first time since they had arrived, showing his purpose for coming along. His daughter was first. His sons could handle themselves, neither of them had been terrified of their matches, neither of them had really been in love. They could survive for a year or two. It may be good for them, even. But, Ginny… Ginny was another story.
Kingsley sighed again, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers against his knee. "Arthur, I assure you that we investigated every person involved fully. Mr. Malfoy was found not guilty of any crimes. Harry himself is the reason why this is the case, he testified at his trial. Draco Malfoy was used as a weapon, a child soldier in a battle he could not escape from. He has paid back a great amount of money in reparations and is currently doing contract work for the Ministry to further repay those debts. I have no reason to believe he will harm Ginny in any way. Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban, he is rotting in prison where he belongs. His wife and son have done their best to repent for their crimes."
Arthur did not seem entirely satisfied. "What if this man hurts my daughter, Kingsley? Will that be on your hands?"
Kingsley stood, then, and Hermione and Arthur followed suit. "Arthur, if Ginny truly believes her life is in danger, if she is fearful to be around the man and cannot carry out the marriage, we will figure something out. I will not let her be forced into a marriage she is worried could cost her life. Is that a fair bargain?"
Nothing would ever be a fair bargain, Hermione thought bitterly, and nodded once to Kingsley. "It will all have to do for now. Unfortunately, you're not done with me yet, Kingsley." Kingsley had the good nature to laugh at this, and walked them out of the office. The three were quiet on their walk to the elevator, and eventually Hermione and Arthur were alone, on their way back to the apparition point and a silent trip home.
The Burrow was quiet when they returned, most of its inhabitants having been out for almost all of the day. Arthur nodded to Hermione and disappeared into the kitchen to find Molly, while Hermione headed towards the dining room instead. There were two plates out still, with warming charms over them, and she sat down to eat for the first time that day since breakfast. She hadn't realized how famished she was or how glad she was to be somewhere quiet. It was somewhat suspect, a quiet Burrow, but she didn't have the heart or energy to wonder about that in that particular moment.
Halfway through her meal, she felt eyes on her and turned towards the door where Ron was leaning against the doorframe, watching her.
"Hi." Even her voice sounded exhausted, but she did not have the drive to perk up even with seeing Ron. The redhead managed a small smile in her direction and then headed into the room, sitting down next to her on the bench.
"We should probably…" Ron trailed off as he spoke. He had never been that comfortable talking about his feelings, and this was really no exception. Hermione nodded though in assent, pushing away her plate - stomach too nervous to eat more. She turned on the bench, straddling it to better face Ron, and he did the same in her direction. It was a long moment staring at each other before they each tried to speak.
"I should have done better-" Ron began, just as Hermione blurted out, "Why did this happen?"
Once more they fell silent, and finally Ron nodded for Hermione to speak first.
"We should have… We should have made time for this, Ron." She admitted, sadly. "I know we were both so busy... I was so focused on school, and on work. And you were so focused on your Auror training. And we just, never…" She waved a hand between them, for once feeling utterly without words. Ron's shoulders were sagged forward and he sighed heavily.
"I should have done better, Hermione. We could be married by now, and avoid this whole mess!"
Hermione nodded, feeling the tears leak from her eyes as she thought about her hopes and dreams for the two of them. For fights over toast, for Ron's mess, for waiting anxiously for him to get back from a mission, for redheaded babies, and sleepy weekends. But also the stress, of someone chaining her down. Of someone holding her back, and pushing for things she didn't want yet.
Ron lifted a hand and brushed the tears away with her thumb, catching her chin in between his fingers. "Hey," he said softly, tilting her head to look into her eyes. "This doesn't have to be the end, does it? Maybe we can still- we can work around it?" He looked so hopeful that it killed her to shake her head in his grip.
"I don't think so, Ron. The Ministry, they're going to be pretty strict, I think. And… I don't think it's fair. Whatever they've used to determine compatability didn't pair us up, Ron. And that has to mean something, doesn't it? It… I just. I think you and Hannah deserve a chance, to see why…" Hermione was crying again, for real now, tears running down her cheeks and dripping off her chin. If you love him, let him go. She needed to do this now, now while it was easier, now before they even had a chance for it to be worse. "I think you need to try, with Hannah."
"I don't want bloody Hannah Abbott!" Ron snapped, though his voice was still low and he still held her chin. "Don't you get it, you daft woman? It's always been you for me! This is what I've wanted since... since we were kids together. You're brilliant and you're beautiful and-"
"Then why didn't we figure it out before now, Ron?" Hermione said, finally meeting his eyes through her tear-filled ones. "Why haven't we 'gotten around to it' if we were both so desperate? We've pushed us back, we haven't once thought, 'shouldn't this be important enough to prioritize'? And that's on both of us, really. But," she sighed, hating herself for saying it even as the words tumbled out of her mouth. "It's not that I believe in whatever the Ministry has used as this measure, it's not that I'm saying any of this is right. But, if we were meant to be, really meant to be, why has everything led to this?"
Ron shook his head, tears now running down his face as well, and pulled Hermione close, pressing his lips against hers. They stayed like that for a long moment, his wet cheeks brushing hers, lips pressed against her own. Slowly, they pulled back, and he watched for her reaction. Hoping it was enough. Hermione was having different feelings about the kiss. She had expected that same spark she felt the first time they kissed, that awful night. She was expecting warmth and hope and her heart to fill and remind her to fight for this, fight for them. Instead, the gears were clicking into place. It wasn't there anymore. It might not have been there for a long time, and they were still clinging to the past because it was all they thought they had.
"I love you, Ron, and I probably always will in one way or another."
"But?" He knew what was coming now, before she said it, and she let out an audible sob.
"But it's not, it's not meant for us anymore. Please just… Let's just move on, and you try and be happy with Hannah. Please give it an honest shot. She deserves that. And let me figure out the Ministry and try to fix all of this, and when it's all over, then we can try again, if we both still want to. Please?"
Ron sighed, swiping at his cheeks with the backs of his hands, and stood up from the bench. He was at the door before he turned back to look at her, hurt and anger and sadness flushing his cheeks red, and she could tell he was holding in as much of his emotions as he could. "Bye, Hermione."
And then, he was gone.
Hermione turned so that she could put her head on the table and let the sobs flow freely, shoulders heaving and tears soaking the wood under her head. Finally, she was able to once again take deep breaths, and she wiped at her tearstained cheeks with her sleeve. Deciding that she had had just about enough of being inside today, she picked herself up off the bench and headed for the backdoor of the Burrow, moving quietly to not have to run into anyone, and then she slipped out into the now-dark night.
Hermione glanced around the garden and dropped down onto the back porch deck, pulling her knees up against her chest and trying to figure out what she wanted and needed. Lists were always easy for her. She wanted to not get married at twenty. She didn't want to be tied down, to be owned, to be given. She wanted to fall in love with her partner, real true passionate love. She did not want children, not yet. She wanted her friends to be happy. She wanted to go home, to her tiny flat. She loved the Weasleys, but spending so much time with them was like being a terrified teenager again. She wanted to sleep until this was all over. She wanted to fix it, to storm into the Ministry again and demand that this be rectified. She wanted it to be easy.
She barely noticed when someone sat down beside her, and in fact it was only feeling someone's leg brush against hers that startled her out of her brain. Her wand had slipped down into her hand and was pointed at the person beside her before she realized what was happening, and Harry threw up his hands with a soft laugh.
"Sorry, just me. I should know better than to sneak up on you, after everything."
Hermione managed a small smile and half-hearted shrug as she slid her wand back down her sleeve. "I figured you'd be with Ginny."
Harry lifted a hand sheepishly to rub against the back of his neck, the flush on his cheeks visible even in the moonlit garden. "I was. But, Ron came up, said you were really upset. He was upset too. I figured, well, you may need someone to talk to."
Hermione blinked back the tears, leant over so her head rested on his shoulder, tried to calm her still shaky breathing. "You didn't have to do that."
Harry snorted in response, tugging at a curl hanging down by her face. "'Course I did, bookworm. You're my best friend. You're, I guess, going to be my wife-" Harry paused, smiling sheepishly. "I mean, I probably should have proposed or something, that would have been the right thing to do, wouldn't it?"
Hermione sniffled again, trying not to cry all over his shoulder. "You should be proposing to Ginny. Not me. This is so wrong, Harry. I love you, truly, but not ever like that. Even the thought of-"
Harry cut her off with a noise of protest that sounded half like a gag and half like a groan. "Don't even plant that image in my head. No way. You're my sister, Hermione." He dropped a hand down to lace with hers, squeezing it tight. "I guess the Ministry didn't do anything at all."
"No. Kingsley said he tried to make it as easy for us as he could. That maybe in a few years once people start having more magical babies it'll be easier to overturn. That if Ginny really truly believes her life is in danger, we can try and report that and get her away from him. But even that didn't sound too hopeful."
Harry nodded against her head. "And your conversation with Ron?"
She tried not to groan. "I don't know, Harry. Don't you think it's, it's some sort of sign? You and I, of course we're compatible. Not sexually, but I do trust you with my life. We get along well. I think we could live together with no problems. They just didn't account for lust or desire. But platonically, we have that love. Isn't it… don't you think it's odd, then, that Ron and I weren't paired together? I'm not saying the Ministry has it right! Ginny and Malfoy, I mean," she shuddered and Harry made a noise to indicate his agreement, "but why wouldn't we be together? Why haven't either of us pushed for this in the past two years? You and Ginny figured it out - a relationship, school, two busy careers. We couldn't pull it together, Harry." The tears were rolling down her cheeks again. "I told Ron that he should let go. See what it'll be like, with Hannah. It broke my heart, Harry," she paused, chewing on her lower lip. "But not as much as I thought it would."
Harry pulled back now, to look down at her face, searching.
"We kissed. It didn't… It wasn't the same."
Harry sighed deeply and pulled her back into his arms. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, into her cloud of hair. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. Look. I just want you to know, I'll take care of you, okay? I'll look after you just like I always have. We're going to get through this together and we're going to fix this mess together, and maybe for once the Wizarding World will take the peace that we gave it and not bloody ruin it."
Hermione snorted a laugh into his chest, pulling back and wiping at her face. "Okay?" Harry checked in, looking down at her, snotty and tear streaked. "Nothing's going to change with us, okay?"
Cracking a smile, she nodded at her best friend, the boy who lived, the Chosen One, her future husband, and squeezed his hand. "Okay, Harry. We'll find a way. You'll be married to Ginny before you know it." And they sat in silence, fingers intertwined, contemplating the future that was rapidly stretching out ahead of them.