Hola friends!
My inspiration disappeared for a few days, and I've gone over this chapter several times to make changes because I'm just not sure if I like how it goes, but I digress.
Here it is!
Enjoy :)
Hermione paced in front of the floo at 8:55 the next morning. She smoothed her hands down her elegant eggplant colored robes, grabbed a handful of floo powered from the mantle, tossed it in the fireplace and shouted "Shacklebolt Manor" before stepping through.
She was one of the few people who had open access to the Minister of Magic's floo, and she knew that it was because of the special friendship she held with the man. While they'd met so many years ago, that night they moved Harry from his Aunt and Uncle's house, it was the years following the war that drew them into their kindred friendship. Hermione served as a sounding board for Kingsley's rants about the political system, and Kingsley comforted Hermione as she dealt with the trauma of her year on the run, her torture, and the death that had surrounded her.
"Kings," she smiled as she stepped into his sitting room. The man was lounging elegantly on a beige loveseat. He was wearing Muggle clothes, a style he preferred in the comfort of his home. His shirt was a soft heather grey v-neck tee and he had dark denim jeans that slung low on his hips. He reeked of rich comfort, and Hermione often found herself wishing she could find such ease in herself.
The man stood to hug her firmly. He kissed her on the forehead and led her to the loveseat. "It's been a crazy few days, hasn't it?" he asked.
She sighed heavily. She still felt as though she was living some sort of dream. It still didn't seem possible that the Ministry was ready to force people's hands in marriage and childbirth, and it certainly didn't feel real that two men she idolized were not only living but due to be her matches.
"We're going to need to talk to Harry," Hermione said. "He deserves to know before all of this gets out of hand. He's going to need some time to process it all before it goes public."
"I assumed that'd be the first thing we talked about this morning" he replied with a chuckle. "Of course we'll tell Harry. He's at the Ministry now, but I had Robards clear his schedule for 10:00 this morning, and I can summon him to my office if you'd like to go ahead and get this underway."
Harry Potter arrived in the Minister for Magic's office at 10:00 am with a head of messy hair, glasses askew, and robes unbuttoned. He was classic Harry messy. A broad grin broke out on his face when he saw Hermione seated in one of the straight back chairs across from Kingsley's desk.
"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
She jumped up and nearly bowled him over, running into his arms for a rib-cracking hug.
"Oof," he grunted, "Not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm, but that's an awfully big hug for a meeting at the Ministry."
He laughed, before looking down at the woman clinging to his robes. It was then that he noticed she had tears in her eyes and looked skittish.
His joy quickly receded as he took in the seriousness of the tension in the room.
"Hermione," he questioned, "what's going on?"
She stepped back from his arms. Her body had a slight tremor as she fought to control her emotions.
"Harry!" Kingsley boomed, "Why don't you have a seat. There's a lot to cover this morning".
Hermione was grateful for him taking the lead, as she sunk back down into the chair she'd previously occupied. Harry sat next to her gingerly, as if he expected to have to bolt from the room at any moment.
"Last week, we asked Hermione to consult on some new legislation and spell work that is coming from the DOM and the Wizengamot." Kingsley began. "I must ask that for the duration of the conversation, you do your best to remain calm, and remember that everything spoken here is confidential."
The tone of the Minister's voice sobered Harry. He nodded sharply.
"Good." Kingsley continued. "St. Mungo's has been researching a problem with the births of babies in the Wizarding community. Families are experiencing a high rate of stillborn births, miscarriages, infertility, and an unprecedented amount of the live births are producing squibs."
Kingsley took a deep breath before continuing. "The DOM has partnered with St. Mungo's and the Wizengamot to develop law and spells to help combat this issue in the future."
Harry looked confused. "So, the DOM and the Wizengamot have to be involved in medical issues now? Why is that necessary?" he asked.
"It's more than just medical issues. The Wizarding community is dying out because of the low birth rates. The fact is, without intervention, there will be no future at all for this community. We need to guide people to healthy births."
"What exactly are you saying?" Harry inquired. He was still not sure what the point of this conversation was.
Hermione interrupted. "Without intervention, people will continue to marry and birth children in ways that will not ensure the future propagation of our society. Families have intermixed and interbred to such a level that the genetic pool is completely broken. If those families continue to intermix, there will be no healthy births."
Hermione looked uneasy, but she continued. "The DOM has developed a spell that will match a person's magical genetics with another witch or wizard's to ensure the healthiest births within our generations and future generations."
Harry was silent.
Kingsley took over the conversation, "The spell matches the best magical matches, and the Wizengamot is going to pass a law that witches and wizards must marry their magical matches within a certain timeframe, and those couples will be required to produce children within a number of years."
Still, Harry did not speak. He looked back and forth between Hermione and Kingsley with a look of shock, fury and mild confusion.
"Why am I here?" he asked in a firm whisper. It was clear he was attempting to hold back his rage.
"Several of us have already cast. I helped develop some changes to the spell after casting myself, and -" Hermione stuttered, unsure how to continue.
Harry leaped from his chair and started screaming. "You agreed to this Hermione? Did you agree to this trap? This is imprisonment! We didn't fight a war to be forced to have kids! None of us are even ready!"
"Please Harry, sit down. I've already been angry for days." She stood, her hands reached for Harry's shoulders and she guided him back into the chair. "You know me, Harry, I would never agree to something like this if it wasn't the only option. I spent days without sleep just researching. I've introduced tons of changes to the spell and law to make it fair and reasonable for everyone included."
Harry sat and slumped into the chair.
"Fine, whatever," he grumbled. "Still don't understand why I'm here. Why not just tell me with everyone else? Is this another "We need the boy-who-lived" thing?"
Kingsley spoke up, sensing that Hermione wasn't sure how to continue. "As Hermione said, several of us who worked through the research and spell and law development have already cast the spell to determine our magical matches."
"Right -" Hermione interrupted. "Except when I cast, there was a surprising result."
Harry glanced at her, noticing her shaking hands. "How bad can it possibly be, Hermione?"
She pulled a piece of folded up parchment from the bag at her feet. "When you cast the magical matching spell, it spells your results out on a piece of parchment. These are mine" she explained, handing the paper to him.
He read the paper, a shaking laugh overtaking him. "Your spell is broken," he responded, his shoulders shaking in mirth.
"That's what I said!" Hermione exclaimed, before quickly deflating. "But, in truth Harry, it's not broken."
"Hermione, SIRIUS is on here. SNAPE is on here! They're dead! And MALFOY? You can't possibly be a match for Malfoy! And this stupid thing gave you THREE matches. How can you say it's working?"
Kingsley rose from his chair and walked to the entrance of his office. He cracked the door open and addressed his receptionist.
"Becky, we're ready."
He strode back to his desk and looked sternly at Harry.
"Harry, what you're about to learn is quite secret, and I must ask that you not destroy my office as you did to Dumbledore so many years ago." Kingsley addressed the young man.
Harry looked embarrassed but couldn't understand the request. Why would he destroy this office?
A knock sounded at the door to the office, and Kingsley spoke again.
"Harry, will you answer that, please? It's for you."
Hermione looked at Kingsley in shock, understanding now how he was choosing to break the news.
Harry trudged to the door, turning the handle as he looked at Kingsley. "You know, all this mysterious bullshit is a bit ridiculous." He said as he pulled the door wide open.
As he turned to greet the newcomers to the office, he froze.
"Please don't faint, Mr. Potter. We've already had to catch Miss Granger, and I imagine you're quite a bit heavier." Snape jeered.
"Shut it, Severus," Sirius responded, opening his arms wide. "Come here, pup". He reached to Harry for a hug.
Harry whipped his wand from his robe, stunned both of the men, and spun to face the Minister.
"Call the Aurors" he demanded, and then turned and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind him.