I dedicate this to my loyal 2 or 3 readers. From now on, unfortunately, I think the chapters will take more time to be released because the story is almost ending and I'd like to have more time to review them before I post. If you spot any mistakes in the previous chapters, please, inform me, I'd love to correct them.

UPDATE: In a previous version of this chapter, when Hermione read Luna's personal information, it was said she was 44 years old. However, I had forgotten I had calculated everybody's age before I had started to write this. According to these calculations, Luna has to be 41 here, she was 37 during the events of "Madam Granger & Madam Chang" and she had the twins when she was 30. If she had been as old as 44 during the events of the present chapter, Hermione would be 41 during "Madam Granger & Madam Chang", and, according to the Cursed Fanfiction, I mean, Cursed Child, she became Minister for Magic before she was 40; therefore, it would contradict canon. I'm sorry for that mistake. Also, if you spot any other mistakes, please warn me.

10. Mr Scamander & the Minister

"It's Mrs Scamander again!", "Bring her in!", "What's happened to you now?", "Can she walk?", "Where are the healers on duty?", "Narcissa is with her!"

The arrival of Luna made the previously quiet fourth floor of St Mungo's more crowded and fuzzy than a flea market. Healers and nurses hurried from one side to the other as McGonagall, Narcissa and Scorpius helped the twitching woman around. From a distant door, a woman ushered into the hall with a stretcher, followed by several other people.

"Let's get you lying down," the woman passed her arm around Luna's shoulders, assisting her. "Narcissa, you may come with us. You both," she faced McGonagall and Scorpius, "Please, you'll need to stand outside. You may wait at the cafeteria."

"What on earth has happened this time?" a worried mediwitch interrogated Narcissa in the corner of the hospital room whilst a woman and a man surveyed Luna thoroughly. "We have been taking Mrs Scamander's lame excuses for a while solely as a favour to Hannah, who begged us not to tell anything. However, since she's not here to take responsibility for it anymore, we can't keep going with this, Narcissa..."

"I will tell everything, Paige," curtly, Narcissa broke the woman off. "Everything I know, at least."

"Very well," expectant, Paige crossed her arms, staring keenly at Narcissa. "Speak away, then."

"What I know is that she's cheated on her husband. I reckon this is the effect of a silent marital curse. I don't exactly know which one."

"Oh, Paracelsus!" the witch covered her mouth with one of her hands, her uncovered eyes expressing pure terror. "We need to get Bell to come to the hospital as quick as she can!" she told one of the nurses who had been analyzing Luna. "How about the man? Why didn't he check in as well?"

"Sincerely, I have no idea," Narcissa said, frowning as she realized that was indeed an important point she had completely overlooked. "She hasn't been able to talk very much. Everything she's told me was that she had nonmarital sexual intercourse..." she thought back at what had happened and decided to rephrase it. "Actually, she didn't even tell me that. The only thing she said was the exact words 'another man'."

"Did you know she carried this curse, Narcissa?" Paige asked, anxiously. "Does it appear on her marriage certificate?"

Narcissa braced herself for a moment, striving to muster every bit of the cynicism she had inside her body. Seeking to recreate the same state of mind of when she deceived the most powerful dark wizard of all time, she arrogantly straightened herself, stuck her nose up and raised her voice firmly, "Why would anything appear on her marriage certificate?"

"Don't you know? According to the newly passed Marriage Law, a woman who has consented to have any kind of marital curse cast upon herself has to seek Administrative Services in order to update the marriage certificate..."

"Is this some kind of joke!?" Narcissa snapped. "Marital curses are an ancient wizarding custom! What else could we do to make sure our children's blood is truly pure!? Why is the Ministry is sticking its nose in people's personal business? The only person who'd come up with something as outrageous would be that filthy mudblood, Granger..." she pronounced Hermione's name so hatefully one could think she'd released venom from her fangs while doing so.

"Narcissa!" Paige jumped backwards, in shock. "For Merlin's sake! You have been of immense help to us over the years, but we can't be lenient with this kind of behaviour! We urge you not to give us reason to make any complaints about you," she looked sternly at Narcissa. "After all, one of the main reasons the previous deeds of your family are overlooked by most of the wizarding community is out of consideration to, among other people, the Minister."

"Nevermind," Narcissa turned her back on the woman. "Don't mention it to anyone."

"You should truly visit the Ministry sometime, Narcissa... for your own good..." Paige advised, sincerely. "If something happens to you and you're not registered, well... your husband is already walking on thin ice..."

"Just mind your own business, Paige," Narcissa muttered, freezingly. "Ask Mrs Scamander about her situation, then. I'm afraid I don't have a clue."

So, the healer neared Luna's bedside. "How are you feeling, dear? Can you speak?"

"Fine," Luna wheezed with difficulty, her eyes closed from exhaustion.

"Can you tell me something, dear? Did you sleep with another man? I mean, one that is not your husband?"

"Yes..."

"How is he, dear? Is he alright?"

"I guess..." Luna said, haunted by the sudden realization that she wasn't sure if Neville was in fact alright.

"That's wonderful news! Well, the bad news is that you're severely affected by some kind of curse aimed to control who you sleep with. Did you know you carried one, dear?"

Narcissa glanced sideways at Luna, trying to avoid direct eye contact, though in her mind she repeated non-stop 'Remember what we've discussed!' as if Luna could read her mind. Luna, for her part, had her vision so blurry Narcissa wasn't even in her field of view, but she didn't forget what they had briefly rehearsed. Wearily, she made an effort to face the healer, then asked, "What...?"

"Did you know you carried a curse such as this one, dear?"

"No..." she murmured, closing her eyes. "Don't... tell... husband..."

"Dear, I'm afraid I'm required to inform Auror Office..." Paige said, sorrowfully. "It's the law. There's nothing I can do about it."

"No..." Luna pleaded. "They'll... take... my kids..."

"No one will take your kids, dear. We are here to help you..."

"It's alright," Narcissa approached her bedside and took one of Luna's hands, motherly. "Everything will be alright. Paige, could you please give her some Dreamless Sleep Potion? She's asked me for it, but I don't have the means to track the evolution of the symptoms in my house, so..."

"Of course. I'll be right back with it..."

"No..." Luna halted the healer whilst she was heading to the door. "Don't... please..." she begged. "Don't tell..."

With her heart full of grief, Paige surveyed the miserable woman lying in the hospital bed. Narcissa, thus, beckoned the healer and muttered close to her ear, "Do what you have to do. She doesn't need to know. We don't want to distress her. As you can see, she's terrified of her husband..." a single tear travelled down the healer's cheeks. "I'll just calm her down. Could we have someone get her that potion...?"

Neville stood quietly in the middle of the corridor that led to the Auror Office, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, waiting to be called to testify. By his side, Scorpius and Narcissa Malfoy stood patiently as well, whilst Professor McGonagall had conjured a chair for herself. They had been waiting for quite some time now. The delay, nonetheless, was somehow part of Hermione's scheme, even though he didn't know the details.

Even though his mouth was tightly shut, his heart cried out frantically. Neville sought to fix his sight on a tiny black and white photo of a group of Death Eaters glued to Auror Office's door, surveying Bellatrix Lestrange's hysterical expression thoroughly. He made an effort to remember clearly her nasty laugh, her pitchy scream, her scornful expression... his hate for Bellatrix was perhaps the only thing strong enough to make him forget how desperate he felt about Luna. To be honest, there was someone else in the world he hated even more than Bellatrix, although the thought of him would most certainly trigger his very worst side.

He didn't bear to think of losing her. He just couldn't lose her. Suddenly, without any warning, his mind wandered to Lysander. How devasted would the tiny boy be at the news of his adored mother's premature death? 'No!' Neville thought. Picturing that was so excruciating it instantly brought generalized physical pain to his body. 'She won't die, she won't die...' he chanted in his mind. He couldn't afford to lose his mind. Professor McGonagall had been very clear he was to remain calm. 'Think about anything else!' he commanded himself, trying to enumerate every herb he knew could be used to calm one down.

"Scorpius! Mom! What are you doing here!?" a surprised Draco Malfoy, who was supposedly passing by, faked surprise at their presence. "Shouldn't you be in Hogwarts, son!?" he, thus, turned his gaze to McGonagall. "Professor McGonagall, you, here as well? Did something happen?"

Neville couldn't figure out why was Draco acting so strangely, wasn't he precisely the one who came up carrying the message? Upon taking notice of his puzzled expression, McGonagall, pretending to be scratching her nose, pointed a finger at him, which was followed by a strange pinching feeling in his arm. Startled, he jumped up and down in pain, just before he could take notice of her eyes shooting fire at him. Galloping gargoyles, she'd wandlessly cast something on him! What was she reproaching him for this time? Well, even though it seemed pointless, maybe Malfoy's act was part of the plan. He decided to keep his mouth shut and go along with it.

"We are here as witnesses of a crime, dad, but don't worry!" the young man added quickly after his father reacted to the news with a shocked expression. "We are fine. We were just trying to help."

"That's true, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall joined the conversation. "Your son and your mother have been of immense help."

"Oh, Merlin. A crime? At school, I suppose? I'm sorry to hear that, Professor McGonagall," he tenderly placed a hand on Scorpius' shoulder. "I'm glad nothing happened to you, son. I hope you can tell me all about it tonight... if it's fine by Professor McGonagall..."

"Of course," Professor McGonagall nodded briefly. "As long as he is back to school in time for his classes tomorrow. Mr Malfoy is already of age, not to mention he's an extremely responsible student."

"Thanks, Professor McGonagall," Malfoy nodded respectfully at her. "I'm here to take some dark artefacts my father and I were designed to report on. Mom, Scorpius, see you both at dinner. Professor McGonagall, it's been a pleasure. Longbottom," he merely turned his gaze to him for a couple of seconds. "I hope the culprit is caught readily." He said before walking into the Auror Office.

Following that, they waited for what seemed to be centuries, though it was just 30 minutes. Checking her watch impatiently, what Neville suspected to have been an act as well, Professor McGonagall raised her voice. "How much longer is it going to take, may I ask!?"

"I don't know, professor. I apologize," someone came out of Auror Office. "The aurors are supposed to hurry back to the Ministry to take your testimonials right after they're done talking to the healers. I don't know why it's taking so long."

So, they resumed waiting. Several people Neville knew from his brief time as auror passed by them, even Dean and Seamus, holding hands happily.

"Whoa! Neville! What'cha doing here?" Dean asked. "Not been arrested, right?" he chuckled.

"No, no..." Neville forced a smile. "Witness."

"Oh, bummer," Seamus playfully patted Neville's back. "Let's grab some lunch after you're done here, pal."

"Let's do it," he told them, unsure if he should stall the conversation or be brief. He wasn't sure if their appearance was part of the plan or not. He decided he'd better bid them goodbye. "Nice to see you, guys!" he said, to which they replied and left.

Abruptly, the whole floor was suddenly infested by murmurs and exclaiming as a woman quite distant from them neared leisurely, stopping by to talk sympathetically to anyone who passed by her. As she entered Neville's eyesight, he realized it was Hermione.

"The Minister is here!" he could hear a feminine voice coming from inside Auror's Office. "Oh, Merlin, how do I look?"

"Merlin's beard!" now, he heard a male one. "I should be on the field..."

"Oh my..." another male moaned. "Is she here to inspect us?"

"Oh, Neville, what a surprise to meet you here!" Hermione greeted joyfully, stopping by. "Professor McGonagall, you too? What an honour!" she smiled widely. "Mrs Malfoy," she nodded at Narcissa, who solemnly reciprocated, and Scorpius did the same. "To what do we owe this honour, professor?"

'It's good to see you, Minister," McGonagall stood from her chair, outstretching her hand, which Hermione cheerfully shook. "Though I'm afraid the reason we're here is not. We have witnessed a felony."

"Oh, that's so unfortunate!" was Hermione going to pretend as well? "I didn't know anything had happened, I wasn't informed of your presence here. Are all of you fine?"

"We're just fine, Minister, we appreciate your concern," Narcissa joined their chat, maintaining a respectful tone. No one could ever guess just a few hours ago she'd been referring to Hermione by the m-word. "Unfortunately, we can't say the same thing about someone I reckon you know."

"What? Someone I know?" Hermione pretended to be puzzled, raising her voice louder than she'd normally do, which attracted the attention of the entire corridor to their conversation. "Who, may I ask?"

Mrs Malfoy, thus, shifted her eyes from Hermione to Neville, arching her eyebrows meaningfully. He stared back at her for some seconds, unsure of what she actually expected him to say, then took a deep breath, a vain attempt to ease the pain that surged in his chest at the mere thought of her, and told Hermione with a cracking voice, "Luna."

"No!" Hermione raised her voice even higher, exaggeratedly concerned. "What did you say? My dear friend, Luna!?" she was on the verge of screaming now. "What on earth has happened to her, Neville!?"

"She's been victimized by a nasty curse," Professor McGonagall rushed to speak before Neville could. "She's been put to dreamless sleep in St Mungo's. We're waiting to be called to testify. Actually, we've been here for quite some time."

"I demand to see the files on this investigation!" Hermione bellowed, storming into the Auror Office. "Who's in charge of this investigation!? Where is the Head of Auror Office!?"

"I'm here, M-Minister..." a stuttering voice answered. "Exactly what files should I show you, ma'am? Could you specify?"

"Don't pretend you haven't been listening!" she roared, hoarsely. "Do you take me for a fool!?"

"Er... well... Mrs Rhodes is in charge of this case. Gibson and she may be returning from St Mungo's anytime to take the witnesses' testimonials..."

"Why haven't I been informed, Henderson!?" she harshly interrupted him. "Was Harry informed? He'd have told me!"

"I... I didn't think it was that important, Minister... it's probably just another marital curse, not a big deal..."

"Not a big deal!? Do you mean you consider the new laws I've struggled so hard to pass irrelevant? Where are the files I've asked you about?"

"Here they are, Madam Granger!" another terrified voice answered.

For some seconds, Hermione remained quietly examining the files she'd been given. Meanwhile, almost every person working on that floor had gotten to the corridor, hoping to listen to the Minister's hissy fit. Finally, Hermione resumed her outburst, "Who was designed to pursue Mr Scamander's summon!? I don't find it anywhere in here!"

"He hasn't been summoned, Minister..." the Head of Auror Office mumbled. "Er... since we haven't heard the healers and the witnesses... huh... not to mention the victim... it may be a little early to take him as a suspect, ma'am..."

"He hasn't been summoned!? The law clearly requires the spouse of anyone victimized by a marital curse to be summoned, haven't you even read it, Henderson?" she howled, hammering on a desk. "D'you even ask Administrative Services for their registration!? D'you even had the trouble to check Mr Scamander's criminal record?! I demand you get someone to it, right now!"

"Certainly, Minister... everything you wish, ma'am..."

"Everything? Fine, Henderson! Then I urge you to redistribute this case," she said, finally starting to get a hold of herself. "Where's Harry? Someone bring me the head of this department!" as she said that, a woman rocketed into the corridor, hurrying to the other end of it until she disappeared from Neville's sight. Now that he could no longer see her face, Neville couldn't tell if Hermione's burst of anger had been all an act. Everything seemed quite convincing.

"Whom to, ma'am?" Henderson politely asked.

"Redistribute it to Hermione Jean Granger, Minister for Magic."

"I beg your pardon, M-Minister...?" his voice cracked. "I figure you must be otherwise engaged, ma'am. This is no task for you, you have already so much on your plate. I myself will make sure this case will be thoroughly investigated, ma'am. You don't need to worry..."

"A personal friend of mine's been severely injured and the only thing you seem to have done is to keep Minerva McGonagall waiting in the corridor!" she burst into flames once more. "No one's even bothered to walk the witnesses to the proper room! How long have they been waiting, exactly?" no one answered. "I'll get the witnesses' testimonials myself! When Rhodes and Gibson come back from St Mungo's, send them to report to me right away," she opened the door to Auror Office. "Redistribute the case at once, Henderson. If you won't comply with my orders, your boss will. Excuse me..."

Closing the door behind her, pretending to be oblivious to the fact the stares of the entire corridor targeted her, Hermione grinned widely at them, "I'm sorry they've made you wait. Professor McGonagall, please, accompany me. I'll be pleased to take your testimony," she smiled to the professor. "I need someone to escort the other witnesses!" she authoritatively raised her voice, causing a volunteer to promptly show up. "Thomas, Finnigan!" she called, and Dean and Seamus readily came out of Auror Office. "I have a task for you both. Summon Rolf Scamander and bring him to me. You're authorized to use force if necessary. I'll interrogate the suspect myself."

"Right, Hermione," Seamus said as he passed by them.

"Lunch will have to wait, mate," briefly, Dean blinked at him before he left.

"You've arrived at least. Please, take your seat, Mr Scamander," Hermione gestured with her arms to the robust chair in the centre of the dimly lit high-ceilinged Courtroom Ten. "Come in as well, Hart, Austin and Bentham." Faking a welcoming expression, she waved her wand, conjuring three wooden chairs behind the central one. "It's a pleasure to see you!" staring meaningfully into Rolf's eyes, she said.

"What's all of this, Madam Granger!?" Bentham asked. "Courtroom Ten!? I figure a serious violation of my client's rights may be taking place. We had no knowledge or access whatsoever to the files on the investigation, and now we're being called to Courtroom Ten!?" he seemed shocked, rapidly scanning the dozen wizards and witches who stood by the Minister. "What in the world does it mean!? Is my client being tried already!? We weren't given the chance to elaborate a proper defence strategy, Minister!"

"Oh, don't bother about that, Sir Bentham," Hermione smiled at the man. "This is not a criminal trial. Your client is here in the position of suspect. This is just a criminal investigation. You don't have to be reluctant to seat on that chair, Mr Scamander, I guarantee the chains won't bind you if you don't pose any resistance. Also, Sir Bentham, I assure you will have plenty of time to come up with a sound defence strategy, that is, if your client actually ends up being prosecuted. If Mr Scamander can address all our doubts satisfactorily, he won't have to worry about anything."

"So what's all of this, Minister?" Hart asked, surveying closely the crowd behind Hermione whilst he joined the room. "Why are all these people here? Why is a criminal investigation being conducted by the Minister for Magic herself!?"

"These people are not the Wizengamot Court, Sir Hart. This is just a safety measure, for the last time I was involved in a criminal investigation in which Mr Scamander was a suspect, I nearly died..." she headed to the centre of the room and stood against the four chairs, waiting for Rolf and his legal assistants to take their places. Once they had seated, she brandished an artefact before Hart's eyes. "Do you recognize this, Sir Hart?"

"This is..." Hart analyzed the object. It was a wand broken in half, one half dangling by its core. "A broken wand?"

"Do you recognize this wand, Mr Scamander?" Hermione asked him. "This wand used to belong to you." Rolf didn't answer anything. "It was indeed a powerful dark wand. I wouldn't be here if not for the extraordinary heroism of my dear colleague, Mr Dworkin," she pointed to an elder wizard who stood back with the group. "I will be eternally grateful to you for saving my life."

"Don't be, Minister," he said, gleefully. "I was just doing my duty."

"Like him, everybody here is an auror..." she continued. "Rhodes, Gibson, they were in charge of the investigation before I took over," she pointed as she enumerated, "I think you might know Kingsley Shacklebolt, retired auror and Minister for Magic," Kingsley nodded as he was introduced, "Henderson, the current Head of Auror Office," the man forced an embarrassed smile, "Richards, our recording wizard in Auror Office," he was the only one sitting down, a lengthy roll of parchment on his lap, his wand in one hand, a quill in the other, numerous strange artefacts floating in the air next to him, "Proudfoot, Savage... Ted Lupin, who you may know," the young man waved unenthusiastically, "Someone you most certainly know, James," he, for his part, stared defiantly at Rolf, "...and his father, Harry Potter." A scowling Harry stepped forward, his arms crossed. "The only one here who isn't an auror is Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts division and also my father."

"Not your real father, I suppose?" Rolf taunted, smiling cynically.

"What actually did you mean by that remark, Mr Scamander?" Arthur stepped forward, glaring fiercely at Rolf, though maintaining his voice tone calm.

"Well observed, Mr Scamander, not my real father," Hermione answered, faking politeness. 'I wouldn't trust my real father any near you,' she thought. "So, I figure you've met Mr Thomas and Mr Finningan already. Please, join us..." Dean and Seamus dashed to join the group. "There you are, everyone's been properly introduced."

"This is a set-up! The entire Auror Office gathered here just to investigate me!? Don't you have real criminals to pursue!? You're out to get me, Granger!" Rolf howled, starting to lose his temper. "I demand to be investigated by someone impartial, you're completely biased! This is a scandal! Rita Skeeter will hear about that, Granger...!"

"Either Minister or Madam Granger, Mr Scamander," Kingsley warned in his grave voice.

"Quiet, Scamander!" Austin hissed, getting up from his chair. "Don't put yourself in more trouble!"

"My granduncle will be outraged! How dare you!? Do you lot have a clue who I am!?"

"Oh, I've already taken the liberty of owling Theseus, Mr Scamander," Kingsley said. "I'm not sure, though his reply made me think he seems somewhat disappointed that yet again you're being investigated..."

"You... er... have you owled my uncle?" Rolf staggered and gazed at his own feet, seeking to conceal his bewilderment. "I'm sure when he finds out what you're doing to me, he'll be disgusted! You'll lose all support, Minister..."

"That's enough," Hermione interrupted in a calm and gentle voice tone, simpering at the end. In fact, it was too gentle. It reminded Harry of Dolores Umbridge's sugary cruelty. "Let me explain this clearly, Mr Scamander. It's true that, back then, I designed Mr Dworkin to investigate you and your wife instead of myself on grounds of partiality. However, that was because Luna is my friend." She grinned cynically as she emphasized her name. "Since the role of the investigator is that of an attacker, I wouldn't be fit to investigate my friend, it's clear that a conflict of interests takes place. In the present case, there is none, whereas you and I are not friends. My personal interest, hence, is exactly the same as the Ministry's: to find out who's cursed an innocent member of the wizarding community who happens to be my friend. Don't think that means I intend not to take your rights into consideration, though!" she cheerfully added. "You're legitimately accompanied by your legal assistants whose duty is to defend you and give you the best legal advice they can. Whenever you think your rights may be threatened, please, feel free to ask their assistance."

"Huh..." Rolf mumbled, unsure of what to say. "Er... is that right?" he asked his assistants. "Can she do that?"

"If you have any objections, I'd be pleased to take them into thoughtful consideration, sirs," Hermione went on being deceitfully sweet. "You may use the Ministry's legal library if you'd like."

Having assembled briefly with his two partners, Hart asked, "Do you really need the entire auror office here just to question Mr Scamander, Minister? The Ministry needs its people to keep working properly..."

"I'm afraid there's no other way, Sir Hart," Hermione staged a sorry voice. "We couldn't risk someone being harmed the way I was. Rest assured, however, that no auror who should be on the field is being kept here."

"Er... huh... alright," Hart replied.

"Shall we begin, then?" Hermione said, finishing with a goofy giggle. "Please, turn your head so the recording wizard, Richards, can portray you clearly while you answer the preliminary questions," Rolf obliged. Hermione, thus, began reading a piece of parchment out loud. "Thank you. First of all, are you Rolf Artemis Scamander, son to Artemis and Mina Scamander, previously known as Jones," he frowned scornfully as he heard his mother's muggle name, "aged 53, dual citizen of the UK and the US, magizoologist, currently serving as a professor in the Magical Natural School?"

"Yes, I am."

"Married to Luna Scamander, previously known as Lovegood, daughter to Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood, previously known as Rosier, aged 41, British, magizoologist, unemployed, mother to Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, 11 years old, identical twins, the fruit of your marriage to her? Is everything correct?"

"Yes, it is."

"Thank you very much. You may look whenever you'd please from now on," she paused for a brief moment before going on. "Mr Scamander, you're here to be interrogated on charges of wrongful curse against your wife, Mrs Scamander, who is currently being treated in St Mungo's..."

"Luna's in St Mungo's?" Rolf roughly interrupted her, genuinely taken aback. He scowled forcefully as if thinking very hard. Some quiet moments passed before his surprise began to gradually become anger when he finally realized she had indeed cheated on him, as he'd been suspecting this past week. He hatefully clawed his own tight as he clenched his hand into a fist. Austin, however, placed his right hand on his left shoulder and squeezed it strongly. 'Hold your damned tongue, moron!' Austin thought. Getting the sign, Rolf sighed and sought to play the concerned husband's role, "Oh... I didn't know."

"I'm afraid she is," Hermione went further, seeking to explain as clearly as if she were talking to a 5-year-old. "She is out of danger, though unconscious. We believe it's due to a silent curse, huh... a kind of curse that's becoming more and more antiquated, must I add. Even though healers are not sure what's the exact curse, they reckon it's aimed at preventing one's spouse to have nonmarital sex. In our recently passed law, we call it marital curses, though, in ancient Dark Arts books, we may find it going by various other names," Hermione paused, solemnly. "I hate to break another bad news, but she had been cheating on you... erm... precisely when the curse was triggered, actually. So, that's why we brought you here to explain yourself."

"Minister, we request to talk to our client in private for a second, could we?" Bentham got to his feet. "If you agree, of course."

"It's fine, Sir Bentham," she happily replied. "Richards, pause the recording, please."

They gathered in a far portion of the Courtroom. "Did you do that!?" Bentham angrily murmured. "D'you curse her?"

"Er... yeah..."

"Did you get her explicit consent?"

"How come?"

"Did you come to the Ministry to update your marriage records?" Hart asked. "You should have called me if you intended to do that. I would have instructed you on how to regularise..."

"How come!?" Rolf repeated, the legalese starting to get on his nerves.

"It's illegal to cast a marital curse without your spouse's consent, Mr Scamander," Austin explained. "Frankly, did she agree to it? Did you have her sign anything? Any witnesses can attest that she agreed to it?"

"Huh... er... she did..."

"Tell me, Mr Scamander!" Bentham whispered, losing his temper. "I am a criminal legal assistant. Defending criminals is what I do for I living. I can't do that if you lie to me, though. Did she know that!?"

"Fine! She didn't agree to it! Are you happy now!?"

"Oh... that will be hard pull off..." Hart brought his hand to his head.

"Maybe... we could get my son Lorcan to testify... he'd say anything to keep me out of jail..."

"We've done that already. It would seem suspicious to do it again. His previous testimony could be contested..." Austin told him. "Anyhow, he's underage. In this case, the law explicitly requires the witness to be of age."

"Did you do it with your wand?" Bentham asked.

"No."

"What wand did you use? Not hers...?"

"I had someone else do it. I'm not familiar with this kind of magic."

"That's good news!" Austin cheered. "They can't find anything by means of Reverse Spell..."

"That's problematic, though," Bentham cut him off. "He has an accomplice. If the person blows the whistle..."

"It won't happen," Rolf assured. "I know how to choose my associates. They're high profile people in the wizarding underworld who couldn't afford to get caught. Even if it happened, they wouldn't tell. They'd lose their respect and face retaliation from the..."

"There are infiltrates in the wizarding underworld, Mr Scamander!" Bentham interrupted him, wiping sweat from his forehead. "The Malfoys, for instance..."

"Alright, alright," Austin meddled in. "Is there something we can do about it now? No. We can only pray to Merlin no one decides to spill..." he sighed. "The best strategy, in my opinion, is to keep your mouth shut. If no wand, no witness, no confession comes up, they won't have bold proof you were the one who did it, therefore, they can't put you in Azkaban. They'll probably just put a tracer on you and forbid you to get any close to your ex-wife..."

"Ex-wife!? Excuse me!?"

"Oh, well, I'm sorry... but you can kiss her goodbye. You won't be allowed any near her for quite some time. You'll be lucky if they don't forbid you from carrying a wand again..."

"What!? That's the legal advice you have to give me!? That everything's lost!?"

"Not everything is lost!" Bentham retorted. "We can keep you from going to Azkaban. D'you wanna end up there?" Rolf didn't answer. "Deny everything. Tell Granger you're as surprised as she is, that you don't know this kind of magic, and invite her to search your wand... if she makes any question that seems compromising, just answer 'I hereby use my right to be silent.' Do you understand, Scamander?"

"Huh... I think so..."

"Right," said Hart. "It'll work. Just one last thing: in any hypothesis, don't freak out. Pretend to be calm! Don't talk back to Madam Granger, don't make any sarcastic remarks, and don't forget the courteous treatment. Are we clear!?"

"Er..."

"Are we clear!?" Bentham emphasized.

"Alright!" Rolf gave up. "Let's do it your way!"

"All done, Minister," Austin grinned at her, returning to his chair, being followed by the others. "May we go on?"

"Are we good to go, Mr Scamander?" Hermione asked.

He took his time to return to his place in the centre of the room, faced Hermione and said, "Ask away, Minister."

"So," Hermione adjusted her posture. "As your legal assistants may have explained, one is legally bound to register any kind of curses cast in your spouse within Wizengamot Administrative Services, though I've already checked your files and I couldn't find any information whatsoever in there. Did you, your wife or your legal assistants ever come to the Ministry with the purpose of doing so, Mr Scamander? Do you have any legal document that may prove the information we have is incorrect?"

"Er..." Rolf sought the gaze of his legal assistants.

"We're afraid there's none, Minister," Hart answered on his behalf.

"Did you perform any curse of this kind on your wife, Mr Scamander?"

"No."

"Did you have anyone do it for you?"

"No."

"Did you know she was a carrier of a curse of the such?"

"I had no idea," he croaked.

"Did you suspect she might have been cheating on you, Mr Scamander?"

"I..." he hesitated. "I didn't know she'd cheated on me."

"Did you ever have any arguments regarding this matter?"

"I can't see why this may be any of your concern."

"Watch your mouth!" Austin hissed. "Apologize to Madam Granger!"

"It's fine," she said, friendly. "He chooses to use his right to remain silent. Let's go on." She approached Rolf, scanning him thoroughly. "We have a theory, Mr Scamander. We believe Mrs Scamander may have been cursed sometime during this past week."

"Seriously?" Bentham stepped forward. "That's interesting, Minister. I'd like to hear it if you'd like to share."

"Oh, of course, Sir Bentham. See, about one week ago, the victim was called to Hogwarts by Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. On this occasion, her child Lorcan unwillingly released a great deal of dark magic upon her. That day, Professor Longbottom, Mr Scamander's ex-fiancée, carried her to the Hospital Wing and made her regain consciousness by casting powerful healing energy on her." Rolf's face contorted itself into a horrible grimace as he heard that. "I believe Mr Scamander might have felt jealous, which might have made him resort to the Dart Arts to take revenge on them. What do you think about that, Mr Scamander?"

"Garbage!" he yelled. "I'm too busy with my research to keep track of who my wife talks to! I had no idea she'd been talking to Longbottom." He said his name as if spitting.

"Excuse me, Minister!" a female voice came from the door. "I was in the middle of another audience when I was notified! I hope I'm not too late!" Cho Chang stormed into the Courtroom, carrying a stack of documents. "I'm here as the victim's legal representative. I hope you don't mind me watching the interrogatory, Minister, just to make sure this matter will be thoroughly looked into..."

"Of course, Madam Chang, come in!" Hermione welcomed her. "Please, take a seat."

"Thank you, Minister... Sir Hart, what a pleasure to see you. Bentham, Austin, sirs," she nodded politely, heading to the seats skirting the room. "Please, don't mind me... go on..."

"If your husband falls ill tomorrow, Madam Chang, it will be on Mr Potter..." he said ironically, gazing defiantly at Harry. "That's the twisted logic you're employing here, Minister!"

"Very amusing, Mr Scamander, albeit incorrect," Cho pointed. "Mr Potter is seeing me, not my husband. He'd need to meet up with him to cause him any harm, I guess. Furthermore, let's pray to Merlin something like this never happens. My husband is a muggle, you know?" she glared keenly into Rolf's eyes. "Don't it disgust you that there are people who raise the wand against hopeless muggles, Mr Scamander?"

He took some moments to respond. "Of course!" Rolf shouted, on the verge of going berserk. "What are you trying to imply!? That I might be a supremacist!?"

"I didn't try to imply anything, Mr Scamander. I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Good!" he went on. "I'm tired of you and your friends acting like you're better than me, Potter, Granger!" he whipped his face to them. "You may have defeated You-Know-Who, but I come from a family that's defeated Grindewald! Yet you treat me like a dark wizard!"

"You're completely right, Mr Scamander," Hermione felt like jumping to celebrate the fact that Cho managed to drive the conversation to Rolf's family. "More than right, actually. Your grandfather is much more than Harry's ever been!" Harry stared confusedly at her. "He is not only a hero to the entire wizardkind, but also one of the most important scholars ever. Harry is only a hero, his academic accomplishment is close to none."

"Well, thank you, Hermione!" slightly offended and very puzzled, Harry responded.

"It must be horrible, no? Being Newt's grandchild. You must be compared to him every time, don't you?" Hermione neared Rolf, looking deeply into his eyes, a scornfully smirk on her face. "It must be hard to live up to the expectations. Everyone in your family is highly accomplished... you must feel so small in comparison." Rolf gritted his teeth furiously. "But you shouldn't! Your academic achievements are just as exceptional, Mr Scamander!" she said, faking excitement. "It must be horrible to be married to Luna, though. She is just as much important of a scholar as you, though she's also celebrated for having fought You-Know-Who. Don't you feel in her shadow sometimes? If I'm not mistaken, she's Order of Merlin, first class, right?"

"Are you talking about me or about that useless of a husband of yours, Minister?"

Utterly worried about Rolf's increasing fury, Bentham spoke on his behalf. "I'm sorry, but is this subject any relevant to the investigation, Minister?"

"No, I'm sorry, I got distracted. Let's go on..." she inhaled deeply. "So, seeking to understand what might have happened to Lorcan that made him accidentally harm his mother, the professors of Hogwarts have required the assistance of an expert in Dark Arts, the portrait of a previous headmaster, Severus Snape..."

"Snape!" Rolf sniggered. "Snape was no fairy-tale princess, Minister! He was a Death Eater...!"

"Professor Snape's portrait is of the opinion that the boy could be unleashing dark magic because he had wielded another wizard's wand, one that carried dark powers beyond his control," Hermione continued as if there had been no interruption. "That is, your wand, Mr Scamander. Professor Snape suspected your wand might have been carrying a powerful will to harm your wife."

"Were's the proof, Minister!?" Bentham intervened. "Inventive theory, though it can hardly be used as evidence against my client. Anything else could have caused that unfortunate incident."

"What do you think about this theory, Mr Scamander?" Hermione asked.

"I... this is absurd." Rolf lied. "I truly love my wife!"

"Do you?" Hermione teased. "Even now that you know she's been with another man?"

Rolf clenched his first. "Even now."

"Do you want her to get better, then? Do you want the culprit to be caught?"

"More than anyone!"

"Then what do you think could have happened, Mr Scamander?"

"I..." he thought hard for some moments. His legal assistants sought his look desperately, trying to make him understand he should use his right to be silent, but Rolf didn't pay attention. Instead, he decided to take revenge on Neville and to say something that could get him in trouble as well. "I believe it to be a scheme to make my wife leave me! Longbottom's never accepted he's lost her to me! Well, she felt ill when she was with him, is that right? He could have cast a regular curse on her so people would think she had a... how do we call it? Marital curse...?"

"Minister, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I represent Professor Longbottom as well," Cho stood up, dignifiedly. "According to the files, Mr Longbottom's wand was thoroughly reversed, and no dark charm was found." She informed. "In fact, it only showed absolutely pure charms, such as the Patronus Charm and the conjuring of an extensive series of pure healing enchantments. He was precisely trying to cure Mrs Scamander's permanent dark magical wound just before they..." her cheeks reddened and she didn't finish her sentence. Rolf, upon hearing that, seemed to be about to lose control. "Furthermore, it doesn't match Minerva McGonagall's testimony, given that she stressed his immediate reaction was of pure panic. Finally, no other wand was found in the scene. Hence, Longbottom is an unlikely suspect."

Cho paused for some moments, getting ready for what she'd say next, for this part was crucial to their plan. "Minister, I'd like to seize this opportunity to suggest for Professor Longbottom to be regarded as a victim as well. I'm afraid to inform you he is not feeling completely fine. He is being thoroughly examined by mediaurors in this very moment."

"LIAR!" Rolf jumped from his chair, finally getting over the edge. However, the chains on the arms of the chair promptly wrapped themselves around his wrists, constricting him firmly. "You're a liar! Nothing's happened to the fathead! Did anything happen to Luna at all!? Is she really in the hospital!? Or is it just a scheme!?"

"Mr Scamander, get a hold of yourself!" Hermione demanded, pretending to be outraged by his behaviour, despite it was exactly what she'd been expecting. "Why is Madam Chang a liar? How can you know that Mr Longbottom hasn't been harmed?" she raised an eyebrow. "Was it a confession? Are you ready to plead guilty?"

"This is not a confession!" Bentham hollered. "This is just an emotional reaction to the thought of his wife with another man, nothing more, Madam Granger! My client will not confess anything, especially since he didn't do anything!"

"How exactly is Mr Longbottom, Madam Chang?" Hermione swayed her head in Cho's direction. "If he isn't feeling that bad, could we call him here to elaborate on the hypothesis Mr Scamander has presented?"

"Do that! Call him here, right now! I want to kick that damned fathead's butt! I will elaborate my hypothesis with my fists, oh, I will!"

"Contain yourself, Mr Scamander!" Hermione squeaked whilst all the others drew close to her, their wands firmly clutched in their hands. "This is an official interrogatory!"

"It's not! This is a set-up! I know you intend to throw me in Azkaban no matter what I say, bitch!" the courtroom was at once filled by the sounds of utter surprise. "I swear I'll kill that damned loser! I'll kill him with my own hands! You'll hear from me, Granger! You won't get away with this, you nasty mudblood!"

"That's enough!" Kingsley's thundered, the echo of his powerful voice almost causing an earthquake. He snapped his fingers and a stone cage emerged as if from inside the floor, trapping Rolf inside it.

"Thanks, Kingsley. I reckon we're done for today." Hermione stated sternly, resembling Professor McGonagall a bit. "Rolf Scamander, you will be indicted for wrongfully cursing your wife. In the meanwhile, as precautionary measure, you will be under house arrest. You'll be under the tracer's control, and may not leave your residence unless to attend your classes and other professional activities at Magical Natural School." Richards promptly wrote down Hermione's words, his quill moving magically frantically, and his wand hand drawing figures in the air just as quick. "Thomas, Finnigan, please detain Mr Scamander. You may keep him in the dungeons until we can comply with the search warrant I am issuing right now."

"On it, Minister," said Dean, advancing leery towards Rolf, his wand in hand. Seamus accompanied him, on the alert as well.

"Gibson, Rhodes, please comply with the search warrant. You are authorized to seek his home thoroughly for any trace of illegal activity," Hermione paused to catch some breath as Rolf struggled, thrashed and roared inside the little cage, giving Seamus and Dean a hard time to subdue him, Kingsley having stepped forward to assist them. Rolf's legal assistants, on the other hand, paced around frantically, sweat dripping from their faces, unsure of what to do. Cho, for her part, beamed triumphantly. "You are hereby prohibited to get any near to your wife and children, Mr Scamander, unless you manage to clear your record when you're judged before the Court of Wizengamot. If these precautionary measures are not observed, you will be promptly under arrest." She finished, resoundingly, having a hard time suppressing any vestige of her humungous happiness from her face. "You are all dismissed. Have a nice day."

'My dear, beloved wife...' Rolf thought as he tossed himself on the couch, the aurors who had brought him home were still there, casting complex spells all over the place. 'You rejoice in your victory. It won't last long, I promise you.'

"You're allowed to be in the garden, though you may not move more than 20 yards away from the house," Seamus explained. "We should let you know the entire house is being monitored by us. Am I clear, Mr Scamander?"

"Got it," he grunted.

"You may receive visitors, but you ought to inform the Ministry beforehand."

"OK."

"You can attend your own classes and other activities at Magical Natural School, but under no circumstances must you apparate," Dean said, gravely. "You should always travel by the Floo Network. Your fireplace is also under surveillance."

"Fine."

"If you really need to leave to any other place, you may request the Ministry's approval in advance, unless it's a serious emergency, such as a health-related problem."

"Huh."

"Besides Mrs Scamander and your children, who you are legally obliged to stay away from, you may contact other people by the Floo Network and by owl," Seamus went on. "Though we must warn you are being monitored."

"Is that all?" Rolf asked, roughly. "Can I at least go get some sleep? Or do I have to keep you company all day? Is that somehow part of the punishment?"

"We're going, Mr Scamander," Seamus headed to the door. "Have a nice day."

"Can I inform the Ministry of a visitor through you?" Rolf asked. "I want to invite a friend over. Rita Skeeter." Rolf paused, staring at nothing, thinking hard. "Is that alright?"

"We'll owl you with our answer," said Dean. "Anything else?"

"No, thanks," Rolf leapt to his feet and headed to his underground room. "If you excuse me, I have to feed my Abraxans. Good day to you."