Chapter Thirty
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! – Yet again, not mine. Bit of a short chapter, but hope you enjoy it regardless!
The following month passed in a seeming flash. Hermione felt that between work, spending time with George, occasional meals at the Burrow, going to both George and Ginny's Quidditch matches, assisting Ginny with wedding plans, and preparing for her debate, she hadn't time for much else. Unfortunately, in all of the bustle it seemed as if the last item on Hermione's list – getting her House Elf speech written – too often went forgotten. Consequently, up to the night before the debate itself, Hermione was still working frantically on preparing the proper words that would hopefully stir the hearts and minds of the Ministers to whom she was delivering her lecture.
In her living room, in her purple plaid flannel pants, Hermione sat with her trusty feather quill hovered over some parchment, desperately trying to locate the ideal words from the recesses of her vocabulary. The task proved difficult. Hermione knew that her speech – which she had actually finished sometime prior – was adequate, but it bothered her that it wasn't perfect. Her neck was beginning to cramp from being hunched over the page and her fingertips were stained with black ink, but she kept working despite the discomfort. She knew that no one else was going to be there to stand up for the House Elves and it was important that she contributed her best to the fight. Sometime just before midnight, Hermione looked up at the sound of a peck on her window.
"Who'd be writing me at this time?" She speculated, struggling to stand up from the couch, impeded by the pins and needles syndrome affecting her left leg. Hermione stumbled to the window as she favoured her numb leg. She opened the window and Gilbert – her pet owl – fell into her flat with a piece of parchment tied to his leg. Hermione smiled instinctively at the familiar printing adorning the parchment.
"Mione – what time should I meet you at the Ministry?" George had written in his sprawled style.
"The debate's at 2:00," Hermione jotted on the page and sent Gilbert on his way to deliver the note to George. She grinned with affection for George as she returned – much more ably – to her spot on her couch; she hadn't asked George to be present for the debate but as awfully pleased that he intended on coming.
Hermione glanced over the ink-scribbled parchment for another twenty minutes before deciding that she was too tired to make any more progress; the current state of her speech would have to prove sufficient. With wariness pervading her entire body, Hermione crept to her bedroom and slunk into bed. She looked forward to sleep, even though she knew her slumber would be pestered with doubts and concerns about the following afternoon.
-o-O-o-
"Mione! Mione!" Hermione had only been waiting outside the Ministry's central auditorium for only five minutes, preparing for the moment that she would be summoned, when she heard her name echo through the lobby-type area that surrounded the Minister's auditorium. Glancing up from her parchment that she'd been studying, she saw George approaching her.
"George, you made it," Hermione breathed excitedly as he joined her on the wooden bench that sat beside the large rosewood doors that led to the auditorium-like chamber where the Ministry of Magic Ministers held their debates.
"How could I miss this?" George questioned lightly with a crooked smile that somehow managed to simultaneously make Hermione's heart beat faster and calm her nerves for her upcoming speech. "How are you doing, sweetie?" He asked, patting her knee over her charcoal grey, pencil skirt.
"Bloody nervous," Hermione replied, intentionally following her comment with some needed laughter.
"Mione! There's no reason for that," George said, sounding genuinely shocked at her retort. "You're brilliant and you're going to do brilliantly." He added, entwining his arm around Hermione's shoulder and pulling her into his chest.
"Thanks," Hermione muttered, grateful to find herself in his arms. She didn't even mind when he started stroking her straightened hair, potentially messing up her carefully styled locks. She knew she was prepared, but actually arriving at the moment was nerve-racking. Also, there was something positively intimidating about the formality of being in the Ministry. The large, lobby-like area that surrounded the inner sanctuary of the Ministry where the Ministers deliberated was imposing in its grandeur. From the lush burgundy velvet walls, to the carefully carved wooden molding, and the impressive detailing on the marble tiled floor, the entire scenario was one that made her feel remarkably small and inconsequential. As she waited, Hermione took her eyes from her parchment and simply sat with George in stillness, knowing that focusing on becoming at peace was more valuable than a few last reads of the words she'd long since committed to memory.
"Oh, I have something for you," George spoke quietly, breaking Hermione's momentary tranquility.
"What's that?" Hermione asked, glancing up at him.
"Here," George replied, shifting his weight in order to riffle through the side pocket of his dark slacks. "Here we are," He added, handing Hermione a small item.
"George? Where did you get this?" Hermione exclaimed in shock at the object that he had given her.
"I happened to still have it," George shrugged. "You know how you end up holding on to things,"
"That's remarkable," Hermione marveled, staring nostalgically at what she held. "I can't believe you still have this, George," She spoke contemplatively, spinning one of her old SPEW pins around in her hand.
"I, ah, found it in my old room at the Burrow awhile back," George volunteered. "I thought you might like it….might remind you where your passion came from,"
"This is brilliant, George…thanks so much," Hermione grinned, straining her neck in order to kiss his chin. "I can't believe you even took one of these in the first place…let alone kept it for all these years."
"Er, yah, full disclosure, Fred and I only took from some you because we wanted to enchant one so that it would turn you into a toucan when you put it on," George stifled a chuckle at Hermione's disapproving glare. "I mean, I'm proud of you now….but then…well, we were gits."
"It's alright," Hermione grinned despite the reminder of how she used to be teased over her zealousness for the cause. "I'll wear it for the speech," She added, discretely attaching the pin to the waist of her skirt where it would be discretely covered by her dress robes.
"It can just be a little reminder that I'm going to be watching and cheering you on," George said, squeezing her shoulder.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione and George's moment was disturbed when a young wizard in official, black ministry robes poked his head through a crack in the rosewood door and beckoned to Hermione.
"Ok, well I'm going to head in there, George," Hermione gulped. "Do you know where the viewer's gallery is?" She stared at George, focusing on his brilliant blue eyes, finding solace in the familiarity of them.
"Of course…go get'em darling," George's carefree demeanor was reassuring and Hermione held her head a little higher as she followed the young page into the central sanctuary of the Ministry. If Hermione had thought that the outer portions of the Ministry building were intimidating, she definitely found the inner chamber to be daunting. The floor was sloped and the side from which Hermione had entered was much higher than the part from where she'd be delivering her speech. Consequently, when she walked to the podium at the lowest point of the room, all eyes were on her. Hermione breath grew a bit quicker at the sight of the wall of faces occupying the seats. Everyone was clad in finely-tailored, official Ministry robes and Hermione was glad that she had thought the tie her best dark dress robes over her shoulders. Hermione surveyed the grand room as she carefully made her way down towards the central podium, stepping delicately over the fine burgundy carpet so as not to trip over her sensible beige pumps. Every single detail seemed to exist in order to demonstrate the exquisiteness of the building. The rich oak-stained wooden seats were all intricately carved in rose-shaped patterns. Occasional golden details highlighted the delicate pattern. Stone-faced watercolour portraits of past Ministers of Magic adorned the circular walls of the inner chamber. An imposing bronze chandelier hung in the very centre of the remarkably high, vaulted ceiling. The light radiating from the chandelier combined with the orange-red flames of the lanterns that hung around the edges were barely enough to light the large auditorium and, as a result, eerie shadows were cast throughout the room.
"Ah lovely," Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt announced to those in attendance when Hermione finally joined him at the podium. "Miss Granger has requested the opportunity to speak before us today on behalf of House Elves regarding the proposed Bill C-187." Turning to Hermione, Minster Shacklebolt gestured to the podium. "The floor is yours Miss Granger."
"Thank you," Hermione whispered in reply. She shuffled behind the podium and placed her prepared speech on the wooden surface. She looked up and tried to not be intimidated by the sheer number of wizards and witches before her.
"You may begin," Kingsley nodded.
"Er, right…Divisions," Hermione started quietly, her voice hoarse from some unknown impediment in the back of her throat.
"Speak up Miss Granger," Minister Shacklebolt commanded in his familiar, deep, rich tone. He smiled at Hermione and she knew that, even though he spoke curtly, he intended it to be kind.
"Right," Hermione nodded and cleared her throat. "Divisions," She reiterated louder than she had before. Even though the auditorium was chilly, she could feel a trickle of sweat on the back of her neck. Her hands shook in short, quick vibrations. Speaking in class had never made her uncomfortable, but this was her first time speaking before a large assembly of people and the experience was unquestionably intimidating. Gripping the podium with a steadfast grasp, Hermione looked over the sea of people. Most of the eyes seemed imposing, even the ones belonging to people who simply looked bored.
Hermione glanced up to the viewer's gallery. George was sitting in the front row: an encouraging smile on his face and support radiating from his vivid blue eyes. He gave her a swift thumbs-up and nodded for her to continue. She did: "Divisions in the wizard community almost led to its downfall. This was not long ago. I'm sure we can all recall that time." Hermione stated to the assembled, shuddering at the thought of what would have happened had Voldemort been victorious. "During this period, there was a segment of the population that was intent on drawing divisions between those they deemed worthy and those they deemed inferior. Certain notions almost pulled the community apart….Purebred…Muggleborn…blood traitor…" She gulped. "And Mudblood." She finished authoritatively. Sliding the sleeve of her blouse up to her elbow, Hermione held her right forearm out in front of her; the forearm that was forever tattooed with the vulgar slur. In the dim lights of the auditorium, she realized, only the first few rows would have possibly been able to make out the white lettering of her scar. Thus, her reveal didn't have the same effect that she had imagined while practicing her speech in front of her bathroom mirror.
"Er…" Hermione continued, working from memory rather than reading of her parchment. "Years ago, there was someone who saw me as a second-class citizen…something contemptible…" She stated defiantly, knowing that, in fact, Bellatix Lestrange saw her as much worse. "An abomination. There were those who thought that I was someone who did not deserve the same treatment as others. I will forever bear a scar because of that."
"Introducing legislation that establishes House Elves as second class citizens opens us to the possibility of drawing other divisions within the wizard community," Hermione annunciated as clearly as she could. "Wizards and witches fought and died so that wouldn't be the case." Images of Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, Dumbledore, and others who had been lost flashed in her mind. "Those were our family, our friends, and our colleagues. We all know people who died for this cause…who sacrificed themselves to prevent evil from taking over the wizard community. These people died in order to keep our community whole."
"House Elves might not be quick to stand up for themselves," Hermione continued, the volume of her voice ascending as her confidence rose. "So we have to stand up for them." She thought of Dobby and the sacrifice the House Elf had made; one that likely guaranteed her survival.
"When you deliberate, think of the type of society in which we wish to live. Do we want to further a society that allows for class divisions? Or do we want one that treats everyone as equally deserving? This isn't just a law that affects House Elves…it affects all of us." Hermione took a deep breath, knowing that she needed her full lung capacity to drive home her final point: "If we start trying to distinguish between those who are deserving of respect and those who are not, who's to say where it will end? It's important that we don't even allow ourselves to start down that path. Please don't vote in favour of this perpetuation of a division in our community."Please don't allow this Act to become law."
Hermione let out her breath and looked out over the auditorium of blank faces. She had no idea what sort of impression her speech had made on those gathered or what difference it might have in how the Ministers would vote on the Act, but she was glad that it was over.
"Thank you, Miss Granger." Kinsley said loudly to the entire assembly. He rose from his high backed, brown leather chair and approached Hermione at the podium. "We're going to have our debate now and then a quick recess and then a vote." He told her quietly, his back turned to the rows of Ministers. "You may watch from the gallery….thank you for your participation."
Hermione nodded. Her throat felt too constricted to formulate any actual words.
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you get the chance – It always brings me a smile!