"Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself." ~ Harvey Fierstein
Chapter Forty-two: On Your Wings
Hermione pulled her hair out of its twist with an aggressive yank, shaking it free. Her cramped, tiled bathroom was practically overrun with half-used makeup, skin treatments, and hair potions, as she was trying to wrangle her appearance for her upcoming doom.
After applying what she had supposed was adult-like makeup, she had looked into the mirror and sighed angrily. She felt like a clown, like a child playing with paint.
Turning the tap nobs, she washed the products off her face roughly, rubbing until the oily texture was gone. After a few swipes with her crumpled face towel, she was back to square one.
She stared at her reflection, her eyes dipping down to her simple, scarlet business robes. Each drip of her loose tap echoed in the tiny room, filling the silence with a slow rhythm.
Hermione had really needed help with her appearance this morning; she had forgotten the other part of giving a presentation - the actual giving - and had scrambled to put together a respectable ensemble that was slightly more commanding than her usual mousey robes.
But more than help with her outfit, she knew - she needed someone to talk to. Her loneliness was consuming her.
Her friends had been trying, desperately, to reach out to her, but through their judgmental comments, the way they brushed aside her affection for Draco - she found that they were not in the business of striving to understand what she was going through. They clearly cared about her, and how she felt, but they were also overly eager for Malfoy to go away, so she could "come to her senses" and go back to the way she was.
She couldn't go back however.
She understood more about the wizarding world, more about the pureblood elite and those on the other side, and how they had been affected by the Dark Lord. That knowledge could not be stricken from her mind.
And with that knowledge, it was becoming clearer how she would tackle the problems she had been fruitlessly trying to solve when she had first started working.
It would take an all-in approach to really help the world recover from the Dark Lord.
She couldn't just help those he'd tortured, those whose families he had split, those dealing with the memories and aftereffects of a battle that was still so recent.
She also had to help the ones he had claimed for his own, the ones who had believed in his dark vision because they were desperate to believe in anything. They were desperate to hold on to what they thought made them special, and the world was changing too quickly for them.
They had blamed the changing world and the muggleborns for what they saw as a degradation of the magical race. They had done this instead of dealing with their own hollow superiority, their guilt, their privileged, unchallenged and truthfully undeserved positions, and the knowledge that their world was getting smaller and smaller.
This realization is what inspired the majority of her argument for the Confederation of Wizards.
The tough part would be convincing them, however.
She had to help everyone - because everyone had ultimately been hurt in this war. She couldn't pretend like the enemy was wrong, and anyone who thought otherwise was too delusional to be helped.
If she admitted that, she would have to admit that Draco didn't deserve the amount of work she had put into attempting to reduce his sentence.
He had been attentive, trying to understand and amend his knowledge of race, and that mattered to her. But the reality was that he was still prejudiced, in ways Hermione would probably never know, simply because they did not have time to unpack that.
He'd grudgingly accepted that muggles were "okay", and that muggleborns were no different than purebloods. But it would take a lot more than that to sway any deeply rooted biases he had about the inferiority of muggleborns, or even the ways that he was different from them.
When she had first realized this, it had made her incredibly sad. She had wondered if she could really be with him, in a real relationship, where they wouldn't pull their punches simply because they had so little time together and an immediate goal. The distraction of evading Death Eaters, and then Master, and then the trial had somewhat steered their relationship and distracted them from the things they still didn't like about each other.
And though she had gotten used to his rough words, his commanding nature, his archaic ideals, she had known, even then, that she didn't want that for herself forever.
Hermione shook these thoughts away and straightened her business attire. She smoothed her released hair and shook it out more, letting it curl wildly and command the area around her head. Bugger the makeup: her words would ensure that she had the full attention of the room.
She took one last look into her mirror, nodded, and sidestepped her plants to the fireplace.
Hermione stared down the witches and wizards gathered before her as they shuffled into their benches, setting down their wands and pulling out rolls of parchment from their satchels. Her heart thudded painfully - she had never given a presentation in front of a group like this before. She recognized some of them as authors of books she had read, serial contributors to magical journals and papers she had poured over, and even some wizards who were responsible for the laws she was proposing to change.
They murmured amongst themselves for a few minutes before Hermione sighed, steeling her resolve, and cleared her throat. "Good morning, great wizards and witches of the Confederation. Thank you for meeting with me so early."
A few of them echoed her greeting; most others eyed her impassively.
"By consenting to this meeting, you have acknowledged that there is work that needs to be done. By showing up here today, you have decided that there is something to be learned. And by granting me this audience, in this fine institution," she paused and leveled her gaze with a few of the ancient wizards, "you have willingly opened your ears and your hearts to the distant cries for justice."
The room was finally silent.
"As many of you know, the enemy we have very recently defeated operated in malicious, cruel, and manipulative ways, carving paths for his hatred through the innocent people of our world. And though that ended when Harry Potter, my dearest friend, rebounded the hateful Killing Curse back at him not a season ago, the Dark Lord left a horrible mess in his wake.
"This includes, but is not limited to, the lives he destroyed along the way - through both murder and coercion. Unfortunately for these people, their intentions for joining him irrelevant - there was nowhere for them to turn in the end, no place for them to reform themselves and reacclimatize to normality. Their choices on that day were simple - hide or die."
There was a stir of murmuring among some of the British members - she was dangerously close to loosing them.
Hermione pressed on. "In Section 568 of our 29th edition, which I have provided for you at your benches..." she paused as they took up the parchment rolls in front of them, "we have the majority of the laws set forth during the height of The Dark Lord's rise to power. This is the highest density of laws condemning the practice of dark magic and the fate of Death Eaters in our records. Firstly, in various addendums to our system, we see people stripped of their basic rights - right to own property; right to Magical Office of Law appointed representation in court; right to own wands; right to civil labor. This is just the tip of the iceberg.
"With all these laws in place against Death Eaters and associated people returning to normal lives, contributing to our community, we come upon a second problem - sentencing. Records show that the lightest sentence ever given to a Death Eater was 10 years - Mr. Yareek Kitching - and that his conviction was due to a mix up, where it was later proven that though he was marked, he never actually had any contact with The Dark Lord."
Hermione took a breath. "I ask you, great Confederation - what do we expect of these people once we put them away? Do we expect them to disappear? Unfortunately, they do not - they are still people's husbands, wives, friends and colleagues. And more importantly, they are still people.
"I propose that we take a different stance on these citizens - and not just shove them into a cell to be forgotten. I propose that we engage with them, rehabilitate them where needed, and force them to contribute to our society once more."
She looked down at the floor for a second, steadying her breathing. This next part was much harder. She looked up again, and addressed the room directly. "Please, great elders of our community, what was the original purpose of Azkaban?"
The room was silent, and sweat broke over Hermione's brow. She peered around the room and raised her arms. "Shout it out, if you please."
The silence continued, deafening. Someone shuffled their feet.
"Confinement" a wizard finally said.
"No! Punishment!" someone answered.
"The safety of our people!"
"Rehabilitation." Everyone turned and looked at an elderly witch in one of the back rows. "The original purpose of Azkaban was rehabilitation."
Hermione nodded, relieved. "Rehabilitation." She lowered her hands. "The original purpose of Azkaban was the left arm of rehabilitation, with St. Mungo's as the right arm. They were started as institutions of healing - St. Mungo's the physical, and Azkaban the mental." She paused. "Does anyone know, at what point did Azkaban become a prison?"
"In the 1710s," the same woman replied, "when it was discovered that the area had been infested with dementors."
"And what happened after that?"
"A team of investigators found that the Head Healer at Azkaban was committing unspeakable attrocities against the people there, which attracted the dementors." Several Confederation members muttered to themselves.
Hermione nodded and said, "And at this time, the Ministry felt that there was a need for wizarding prisons that were secure, out of sight, and undiscoverable by both wizards and muggles; so instead of hiring a proper staff, which took time, resources, and above all, money - the Minister decided to make the dementors the guards of a 'much needed' prison." Hermione paused to look at her notes, then leveled her gaze with the people who had called out answers. "And the atrocities that followed at Azkaban the Prison mirrored the same injustice done to the innocent patients there before."
The room rumbled with murmurs.
She sighed. "Great witches and wizards, our communities deserve something better than this. Our communities deserve a place that can help their loved ones, that can understand them and return them to us with fresh hearts and open eyes. When we condemn Death Eaters to the Dementor's Kiss, or double, sometimes triple, life sentences in a place like Azkaban, where their spirits are broken within even weeks of being there; and then on top of that, if they do manage to get out, restrict their ability to return to some semblance of normalcy; how do we expect them to change?" She paused. "How do we expect to move on from the Dark Lord's era of terror?"
Hermione watched the reactions of the wizards in front of her; some looked pensive, others seemed unaffected. She pressed on. "Upon further investigation of the laws set against dark wizards, a third injustice is unearthed - illegal spells. For example, it is illegal to transfigure human organs - due to a particular incident involving a Death Eater's actions against innocent civilians. But is this not the same magic that helped healers understand the injuries of their patients, and help stop the spread of diseases? And - it is illegal to use minerals to create blood - a method that the healers of St. Mungo's would again, appreciate, instead of constantly calling for donations or cultivating blood bushes. However, it is still perfectly legal for people to perform memory charms - " she swallowed, "even though this opens doors for serious misuse.
"My point, great Confederation, is that it is time for us to get to work, to sort through these archaic laws, reform Azkaban, and bring a common mission to our people. In your parchment rolls I have included a list of the laws that I believe need to be evaluated." One of the wizards lifted his copy of the parchment roll, allowing the end to cascade down the bench. Several wizards sighed, exasperated. "Also, I move to reinstate the committee originally created by Minister Eldritch Diggory, to investigate alternative methods of rehabilitation for the prisoners at Azkaban."
"Does this, Miss Granger," asked one of the wizards - Ungur, from Romania - "have anything to do with the Malfoy trial?"
All eyes in the room settled on her.
Hermione steadied herself. She had known this question was coming. "Thank you for your question, Sir Ungur. This effort is paramount to our work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, to dismantle the muggleborn prosecution systems set forth by our previous Minister, and by extension, Voldemort."
A few wizards gasped at the use of the Dark Lord's name.
"How is that so?" Ungur questioned. "The Dark Lord was tip of the spear in the persecution of muggleborns. How does rehabilitating his followers help?"
"Because our prison and laws are another system that works against the collective opinion of our community." There was a rumble around the room - she hadn't phrased that very well, shit -
"But the Death Eaters hate muggleborns," another wizard said - Hermione squinted to make out the name on his placard. "Shouldn't we be putting them away?"
Hermione clenched her teeth slightly, and replied, "Sir Reginald, putting them away is not enough. We can no longer toss aside these people. There is a significant segment of the population, our citizens, who continue to blame muggleborns for the changing times. Voldemort - " she barreled through their gasps, "capitalized on their prejudice and used it to fuel his search for power. Regardless of their allegiance, it is clear that they had been misled. It is now time to combat the source of their allegiance, the source of their dalliances with dark magic, the source of their troubled minds. And through proper education, proper attention and therapy, we can succeed."
"How does changing these laws," called another ancient wizard, his pallid face drooping like melted cheese, "help the families of those affected?"
"Thank you, Warlock Soames. This is only the beginning of a larger program to help our people adjust after such a dark time. Our world is in flux," she said heavily, making sure the weight of her words pressed upon them, "which presents a unique opportunity for the Ministry to establish a common goal, a purpose, a mission. Something that can guide our frightened citizens."
She knew she had struck the right chord - the wizards who had previously watched her with impassive boredom now sat up in their seats. The prospect of wielding more power was clearly interesting to them. Hermione did her best not to sneer at them.
"This is the first step to removing the poison from our world - we must first suck out the venom. We cannot just let the bad members of our society rot away and expect their friends and family to rot as well. We must show our strength, our mercy. We must show our commitment to change."
"And what is the next step?" the elderly witch asked.
Hermione smiled. "Madame Tattersall, the next step is to replenish the blood. Establish treatment and work programs for our citizens, help them rebuild their homes, heal their families, construct businesses. We also must reestablish trade with other ministries. Show the success of the cleanup. And from there, we can truly heal the wound - solidify relationships. Make our citizens feel like they've accomplished something, like they themselves had defeated the Dark Lord."
The witch nodded at her approvingly; Hermione was relieved to see some of the more stubborn wizards reading through the laws she had suggested. Though she was diverging pretty steeply from her speech, she felt that the open dialogue was more useful to the old wizards. She made a note to do that for future presentations.
"We must start somewhere, and in the British Department of International Magical Cooperation, we feel that along with the work we've already done to improve diversity, correct misconceptions about muggleborns, and elevate magical brethren of all types, we can truly begin to build in this wreckage."
"And so we spend resources on those who destroyed us," a pompous old witch said. Hermione's smile fell.
"In order to rehabilitate them - no, in order to help them - it is imperative that we at least give them a chance to change," she replied. Her thoughts flitted to Draco. "If we don't, what hope is there for their beliefs?"
The court watched with rapt attention as the memory played out in the smoke before them. Within the cloud there was a copy of the drawing room within Malfoy Manor, the cold light casting shadows upon the room's occupants. Past Harry Potter's mangled face stared up at the memory Draco as the silence dragged on.
The prosecutor looked distracted however, as she kept glancing back at one of her advisors, even as spells were suddenly flying within the memory. Once the young wizards within the memory disappeared and the smoke evaporated, the room once again turned to look at Draco.
It was a day he had never wanted to live again: the day he had watched his aunt torture Hermione. Thankfully, Gerard hadn't shown that part; he hadn't needed to. It had already been wrung dry over the court by the prosecutor.
Gerard unfolded his hands. "As you can see, Mr. Malfoy had taken a side, and had chosen to protect the identity of - "
The prosecutor's advisor suddenly gave her a nod, and she turned abruptly. "Minister, I hate to interrupt, but we have received timely, and distressing, news."
Gerard looked incredulously at her; she hadn't even bothered to address him first, and had went straight for the Minister -
The Minister narrowed his eyes at the interruption, but said, "What news?"
She leveled her gaze with the portly defense attorney, and something in her expression made Draco's blood run cold. She walked to the center of the floor, halting the Record Keeper from collecting the memory.
"The law clearly states that as a victim of kidnapping - "
"Alleged, as she is not pressing those charges," Gerard corrected automatically.
" - Miss Hermione Granger is not permitted to be within 500 meters of the accused outside of the context of court. The defense has determined that this law is not but a gentle suggestion, as they have allowed her to visit him no less than four times!"
There was a collective gasp, mostly from the Wizengamot; the Minister, who for once seemed surprised, looked sharply at Gerard. "Is this true, council?"
Gerard's face remained impassive. "She is the analyst for the Department of Defense. It is possible."
"And did they know that he is forbidden to be near her?"
He shuffled imperceptibly. "That is unclear, Minister."
"And what's more, the girl has attempted to coerce the Confederation of Wizards into changing the laws he is breaking, not a few hours ago!"
There were gasps again, and angry murmurings from the plum uniformed witches and wizards of the Wizengamot. "How dare she!" said a witch in the third row. Another wrung his hands, turning to his neighbor. "He can't be sentenced if the laws are being rewritten!" hissed another prickly wizard.
"No, he can, Warlock Tristan," Marjorie interrupted. "Rest assured, he will be sentenced." Fear prickled Draco's heart at the steely declaration.
An older wizard continued, "Any changes to wizarding law after the middle of the year take effect at the start of the new year. He will be sentenced before then."
A few members of the Wizengamot seemed to sigh in relief, much to Draco's annoyance.
Marjorie nodded at them approvingly as they continued talking to one another. "It is clear that Miss Granger is doing his bidding - "
"Objection," Gerard intoned, somewhat shakily, his voice rising over the discontent of the muttering wizards. They fell silent, and he continued. "The prosecution is making wildly unfounded accusations, while I have the floor."
The room collectively turned to the Minister.
He stared at Gerard for a long moment. Gerard didn't flinch; the only sign that he was nervous was the large sweat stains blossoming under each meaty arm.
"Sustained. But the prosecution is correct - the accused and Miss Granger are not permitted to interact. And if it comes to my attention that there was any purposeful collusion in an attempt to evade this law - the consequences are severe for all involved." He let that threat hang for a few seconds, before he said, "The defense may proceed."
Gerard was about to argue, but examined the Wizengamot instead. They were all staring contemptuously at him and Draco. While some of the members of the court were just interested in upholding wizarding law unquestioningly, others really wanted to see Draco - and symbolically, the Death Eaters - taken down.
He knew that technically the law was rather unclear about what happens if the victim doesn't press charges; it only states that victims of a crime and the perpetrators were not permitted within a certain radius.
Since her not pressing charges would be a dismissal of the crime itself, this law did not technically apply to them.
But as a marked Death Eater, and especially since the alleged kidnapping had been all over the Daily Prophet, it was unlikely that the jury or the Wizengamot would see the law from his point of view.
By following this law, he was actually technically - and legally, if the prosecutor recognized that - implying that Draco was guilty of the charge.
He hoped that she didn't.
Besides that, he was already arguing against the punishments for the laws that Draco was irrefutably breaking. The whole defense strategy would seem hypocritical if they were to advocate for the law in certain instances and oppose it in others.
"Thank you, Minister," Gerard said, his voice under control and pleasant once more.
He had barely registered the Minister's nod of affirmation before the prosecutor said, "I move to block Miss Hermione Granger from witness testimony."
There were more murmurs around the room, mostly from the spectator benches; Draco sank into his hands, his ears ringing.
"Objection," Gerard said again, his tightly managed nervousness slipping into irritation. "She is a key witness for the case!"
"She is plotting with the accused - "
"That's preposterous."
" - and she is not a key witness, as she is not pressing charges for the kidnapping. She has no authority of knowledge in the other charges!"
"Incorrect, again: she has borne witness to several of the events leading to the other charges - "
"Witness? She was blind! Her memories are rubbish!"
Members of the jury looked at each other in shock; it was an incredibly intense thing to say about an innocent witness. The majority of the shots in the trial had been directed at either the Dark Lord or the defendant.
"She was not blind during those events!" Gerard said back, but no one was listening; they were muttering again, looking at each other. "Those memories are crucial - "
"And redundant, as they are the same as Harry Potter's," the prosecutor retorted.
Draco glared at her, rage boiling in his veins. It took all of his energy to simply just clench and unclench his fists, rather than retort with something scathing, ripping into her and taking her down a few notches off her ghastly heels. Let her insult him all day, that was fine - but not Hermione.
Slowly, the members of the court turned to look at the Minister, all but holding their breath.
Draco blanched as the Minister leaned over his high podium and turned his scrutinous gaze upon him. In his eyes Draco could detect some sympathy, but it was clouded by an expression of barely contained disgust. The boy knew there were tears forming in his eyes, and he fought them desperately.
"All in favor of removing Miss Hermione Granger from witness testimony?" the Minister finally put forth, tearing his gaze away and looking over the wizards in the seats around him.
Draco's heart sank as nearly every plum-robed wizard raised their hand.
Author's note (10/17/17): Hey everyone. I'm finishing this story, don't worry. Thank you for all your kind comments over the years; I've read all the reviews. Thank you thank you! Please follow the story if you want to receive updates.
And now, a question: I'm thinking of changing the rating to M. It seems that when I initially wrote this, the rules regarding rating were different. But I'll put it to the readers: what do you think the rating is?