Chapter 64: Hermione Granger Weasley, Minister
Gathering his cloak about himself, Ron Weasley stepped from the Floo network that led into the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. His teenage daughter and pre-teen son matched him step for step as they headed for the watch party situated at Department of Magical Law Enforcement headquarters.
Ron glanced down at his two children, both of whom were dressed smartly. "Now, remember, you lot – you are both to be on your best behavior. When your mum wins, I want you to give her a big hug!"
"And if she loses?" Rose's cringe had a don't-want-to-think about it quality to it.
Frankly, Ron didn't want to consider the possibility either. It had never seemed possible to him – not when it came to his best girl. But Ministerial elections were no small thing, and they were very rarely blowouts either. Even so, Ron's confidence as a supporter and especially as a husband compelled him to declare: "Your mummy won't lose. But if she does…." He qualified before Rose could predictably ask but what if she does…. "….then you are to give her an even bigger hug."
The three Weasleys entered campaign headquarters, situated in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, to an atmosphere brimming with tension and excitement.
"There you lot are! All the polls are officially closed; now we're just waiting for the returns!" Harry greeted them, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He turned to his niece and nephew. "Children: there are drink coolers in the corner if you'll just come with me…." He led Rose and Hugo away, the latter asking his uncle if they had Flying Cauldron Butterscotch.
Ron turned back just in time to have someone jump on him and kiss him full on the mouth. Recognizing the taste of her lips instantly, Ron held the kiss and snogged her back, trying to pour all his love into it. After two kids, seventeen years of marriage, more than twenty-one as a couple, and damn near close to thirty knowing each other, Ron understood his wife enough by now to know that she never indulged in displays of affection so arduous in public unless she was really nervous. Ron held Hermione gently, smiling down at her.
"You're going to win," he promised her with a soft smile, and his voice soothing.
Hermione nervously bit her lip. "You believe that?"
"I believed it of you when we were 11, and I've never doubted it, my love." He kissed her again, and she accepted it, holding it chastely. Ron laced his fingers through hers. "Now: let's go watch the returns and see you kick Dennis Creevey's sodding ass!"
It was the election that would decide who would succeed Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister for Magic. The man had finally decided to step down after twenty years in the post, and after being initially appointed as Interim.
Ron and Hermione now sidled up to the big TV screens to find their children in a spirited debate with their uncle and godfather.
"…. I do think we ought to have term limits for Minister. The fact that such a provision isn't written into the Magical Charter is a disgrace! Could you imagine if Pius Thicknesse had abused it, or worse, You-Know-Who? Vague wording is just asking for a dictatorial strongman!"
"I quite agree with you there, Rosie," Harry nodded solemnly.
Hermione and Ron shared an amused, proud look over their clever daughter.
"For the record, so do I," Hermione spoke up. "It's why I made term limits one of the goals of my agenda. That, and lycanthrope reform."
"Ah, yes, the third rail of our politics…." Ron kissed his wife again, if only to relax her. "But if anyone can do it, Madame Minister, you can."
She blushed scarlet. "I'm not Madame Minister yet…. You'll jinx it!"
"What's there to jinx?" Ron gave her a lopsided smile. "Besides, I thought you didn't believe in superstitions…"
"I don't," Hermione blinked. "They are entirely unsupported by quantifiable evidence outside the anecdotal, and especially so when they're being spouted by Luna…" She was silenced by another loving kiss on the mouth. If her husband was good at one thing, it was distracting her when she went on an intellectual rant.
Harry tried to hide his own nerves as he watched the screens anxiously for the returns.
He didn't have to wait long. Better still, what many had been predicting as a long night of counting was not so – by half past nine in the evening, Hermione Granger Weasley was being projected as having been elected the 36th Minister for Magic – the eleventh woman and only the second Muggle-born to hold the post.
"She really should be counted as the 35th; Thicknesse's reign doesn't really count…." Rose could be heard babbling excitedly to her brother, but Ron was not paying any attention. Beaming with pride, he took Hermione by her waist, drew her close and snogged her deeply. Hermione let her eyes drift close and she sank into the kiss, snogging her husband back with relief and ignoring how everyone was devolving into cheers and wolf-whistles. The spouses broke apart dreamily.
"I love you, Madame Minister…." Ron whispered.
Hermione threw back her head and laughed. "I love you too….. Mr. First Gentleman." Her lips upturned into a smirk, her tone light and teasing.
"Bloody hell! Is that really my title? I have a title?"
For once, Hermione let her husband's swearing go. "You do indeed, my love." Ron puffed out his chest with pride. Leaning in, the new First Couple chastely kissed again; neither noticed how their son made a face. Indeed, Ron was too busy, pointing to his wife with smug pride and telling everyone who would listen, "That's my wife who's just been elected!"
Shaking his head in amusement, Harry squirted in to congratulate his sister-in-law and give her a hug. As he weaved through the crowd of celebrating supporters to get another drink from the cooler, he bumped into his colleague and Deputy at the Auror Department, Daphne Greengrass.
"Hmm, from the way your cheeks are flushing, you're either drunk off your arse or you just had a really good night, Scarhead."
Harry laughed. "Lot to be proud of. My sister-in-law just got elected Minister for Magic."
"Congratulations," Daphne grinned. "I trust if anyone can navigate that conflict of interest, it's you."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, now your wife's brother's wife is your boss. I daresay that won't be easy…"
"Hermione and I have an easy rapport. Have since we were children," Harry dismissed. He studied her, and though Rose and her mother would both be the first to say that it was rude to ask how someone voted, he had out with it anyway: "You didn't vote for Creevey, did you?"
"No, actually. I voted for her." And Daphne nodded to where the Minister for Magic-elect was embracing her husband and children. "It's about time we had a Muggle-born in the top job again. I don't always care for her moral crusades but Granger – Weasley, I should say, excuse me – she's smart as a whip. Creevey just came off looking like an unserious bro."
Harry nodded to her appreciatively. Daphne caught the look in his eye and frowned.
"You're surprised that I voted for her, aren't you?"
Harry actually blushed at being caught. "I'll admit, I'm pleasantly surprised. But then again, you've always been full of surprises, Daph."
It was a deft recovery, and from her smile, Harry could tell even Daphne knew it. But she let him up off the ground. She nodded again in Hermione's direction, her voice lowering to a whisper. "My parents would never admit it, but things were pretty darn good when we had Nobby Leach leading us in the Sixties. Course, they were small children then, mind…."
"So were mine, actually," Harry dated back both his parents. "Leach would have left office by the time they were Hogwarts age."
Daphne nodded. When the conversation petered off into awkward silence, she revived it by fishing around in the cooler and holding out a beer bottle to her colleague and friend.
"Flying Cauldron Butterscotch?"
On a cool, winter's day a couple of months later, Hermione Weasley (neé Granger) stood on the steps of the North Portico of the Ministry of Magic and raised her right hand. Holding a copy of Merlin's original spellbook on behalf of his wife, Ron stood at her side and beamed with pride.
The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot administered the oath of office. "Raise your right hand and repeat after me: I, Hermione Jean Granger Weasley, do solemnly swear…."
"I, Hermione Jean Granger Weasley, do solemnly swear…."
"That I will faithfully execute the Office of Minister for Magic…."
"That I will faithfully execute the Office of Minister for Magic…."
"…. And will, to the best of my ability….."
"…. And will, to the best of my ability….."
"…. Preserve, protect and defend…."
"…..Preserve, protect and defend…."
"….. The Magical Charter of the Magic Realm of Great Britain…."
""….. The Magical Charter of the Magic Realm of Great Britain…."
"So help you Godric and Merlin?"
"So help me Godric and Merlin!"
"Congratulations, Madame Minister…."
The Chief Warlock was drowned out by the assembled masses erupting into cheers as their new Minister for Magic turned, embraced and kissed her husband, then hugged her children, before stepping up to the podium to deliver her inaugural address.
From his perch overseeing security as Head Auror, Harry watched with pride as his sister-in-law – his Minister – began to speak:
"My fellow brothers and sisters in magic…."