Chapter Thirty-Six

Exiting the courtroom at the end of the Wizengamot session was a massive relief for Harry. It had been an exhausting experience. Until he stepped outside into the corridor he hadn't realized how much so. So much had happened that morning, so many unpleasant topics had been discussed. While he was thankful that he wasn't kicked out of the session immediately after his testimony, he almost wished he was.

The debate had been brief but brutal. It was good that Crouch had been sent away. No one needed to hear anyone say such horrible things about themselves, even if they were a known Death Eater and a convicted murderer. Man's inhumanity to man never ceased to surprise Harry. How could beings that possessed such intensity to love and protect be so damned cruel to each other? It made very little sense. The world was far too hateful a place. Sometimes it was hard to be kind knowing what sorts of scum lived around him.

Staying inside the session gave him the chance to know Crouch's fate before it was made public. That had been a small comfort. While he couldn't exactly call it a happily ever after, at least he wouldn't have to wonder any longer if what he did accomplished any good. Waiting around was madness. No doubt the officials were on their way to Hermione's house that very moment to irrevocably change their lives forever.

It was impossible for him not to smile when he saw Luna seated on a bench waiting for him. He didn't deserve her. Not one bit. She was a gift he didn't expect but would cherish forever. The rest of his life would be spent being the husband that she needed. He could offer no more solemn vow.

Not caring at all that there were others in the corridor, he pulled his fiancée into his arms to kiss her boldly. After the stress and frustration of that day, he needed a physical reminder that he wasn't alone. Let others watch him kiss Luna. He didn't mind. They were no longer a secret and never would be again.

"Let's go on our honeymoon. Right now."

Luna's laughter only made his smile grow even wider. It was a sound he wanted to hear all day every single day.

"Traditionally, the honeymoon comes after the wedding."

"When did you become such a slave to tradition?"

With another of her smiles that felt like a delightful punch to his gut, she took his hand. Together they walked down the corridor towards the staircase and away from the courtroom. Harry didn't care where they went after that. As long as she was with him, he would be content.

Steady hands caught Hermione before she fell to the ground. She hadn't even realized Barty was behind her until she felt them. Grateful that he kept her on her feet, she felt stronger with him touching her. Why had she thought it would be a good idea to answer the front door alone when they were waiting for something so potentially awful?

Even with Barty with her, she felt terrified out of her wits. It didn't take the Wizengamot long to deliberate their decision. She agreed that that was a bad sign, a catastrophic sign. And the unfriendly expression on Savage's face wasn't helping. Just as she had been fearing for weeks, he was there to take Barty into custody and drag him back to a cold, damp cell in Azkaban. Never in her life had she felt helpless in her entire life. Her nightmare had come true.

"I'm here to remove his tracking spell and go over the conditions of his parole."

It wasn't Auror Savage's fault that Hermione didn't understand what he was saying at first. He spoke loud and clearly with confidence. Each individual word she could understand, but strung together in a single sentence was confusing. Maybe she hadn't heard him correctly. It sounded as if he was saying Barty had been granted parole.

Savage stepped inside her front door without waiting for an invitation. Ignoring Hermione entirely, he handed a large scroll to an equally bewildered Barty.

"Can we discuss this in private, Crouch?"

All Barty could offer in response initially was a nod of his head. He released his grip on Hermione to lead the Head Auror into the kitchen. As she watched them disappear into the other room, she still didn't understand what was going on. Was that shock? It must've been.

Once she remembered that she still had a very important guest standing just outside her front door, she turned to catch Kingsley looking at her with one of his familiar grins. Part of her wanted to hex the infuriating man, Minister for Magic or not. Was it necessary to be so cruel in the beginning? If he had been smiling like that when she first opened the door, she wouldn't have immediately jumped to the conclusion that they were there to take Barty away. Or so she assumed. It was entirely possible she would still believe the worst. Maybe even believe that her former lover was finding some sick glee in her pain.

"Kingsley, what is happening? I don't understand. We thought the Wizengamot would be debating for hours."

"And they might have been if Mr. Zabini hadn't presented such a strong case."

It was only then that she realized the third man to arrive was none other than her fellow legal analyst. Blaise stepped forward from around Kingsley. He seemed almost embarrassed to be there. That wasn't like him, she thought. If he played an important role in something, she assumed he would be proudly boasting about his accomplishments. What was the point in working hard to a Slytherin if there was no public acknowledgement or credit? Perhaps it was entirely possible that Hermione didn't know Blaise as well as she assumed she did.

"The Minister is being too generous. I merely pointed out some facts that I think the Wizengamot might have been overlooking."

"He's being too modest… which is weird."

Even Kingsley had to raise an eyebrow at Blaise's insistence he had hardly done a thing. Even though the two men didn't know each other all that well, Kingsley recognized he was behaving strangely. Hermione didn't care. If Blaise was the one to convince the Wizengamot that they had no right to throw Barty back in Azkaban, she would be forever in his debt. Not caring that he would likely not appreciate the gesture, she threw her arms around Blaise to hug him tightly.

"Thank you, Blaise. For everything."

Just as Blaise's entire body tensed up at the unexpected show of affection, Kingsley's loud laughter filled up the awkward silence of the room.

"Evidently, you both have been working far too hard on this case lately. Mr. Zabini isn't strutting around like a peacock proud of himself and you aren't asking dozens of questions until you're blue in the face, Hermione."

Slightly annoyed that Kingsley was able to find amusement in the tense situation, Hermione stepped back from Blaise to turn her full attention on the Minister. The look on her face only made him laugh harder.

"Don't get angry with me for speaking the truth. You know very well if you weren't still in a state of shock about the verdict, you would be asking four thousand questions a minute until you wrung every scrap of information out of poor Zabini until he was nothing but a dry shell of a wizard."

Hermione knew it was childish to roll her eyes and it put her in danger of appearing as if she might agree with Kingsley's assertion, but she couldn't help it. Sometimes the man could be positively infuriating. Not to mention an annoying gossip.

"Well, if Zabini here is going to be uncharacteristically modest, then I suppose I will be the one to explain. After both Crouch and Harry gave their testimonies, Mr. Zabini presented. He had some very interesting information none of us in the Wizengamot ever considered. He mentioned a very simple aspect of Muggle law. Are you familiar with the concept of 'double jeopardy'?"

Of course she was. It was a factor in many countries though not all. Essentially, a person could not be tried multiple times for the same crime. If someone was tried and acquitted, they could not be tried again. Nor could they be tried again just to add even more time to their current sentence. There were conditions that varied from nation to nation. It was intended to prevent a government from unfairly prosecuting an alleged criminal until the state got the verdict it wanted. Sometimes it even worked.

"But I've read nearly every magical law currently on the books. There's nothing that will prevent a witch or wizard from being tried for the same crime."

"Not yet, there isn't, but after Mr. Zabini's presentation, I get the impression writing one and passing it has become a priority. I expect another full session to be called some time next week where that will be at the very top of the agenda."

Kingsley's renewed laughter brought an amused smirk out of Blaise. It felt as if there was an inside joke that Hermione wasn't a part of. She hated feeling left out. Seeing her obvious discomfort, Kingsley stopped laughing and cleared his throat.

"Mr. Zabini explained the concept and then politely chastised the Wizengamot for there not being a law that protected those of us with magic in the same way. How did you word it exactly?"

Blaise shrugged his shoulders but grinned. No matter how calm he tried to remain, he was proud of what he managed to accomplish. Considering Barty was in the next room discussing the terms of his parole and not on his way back to Azkaban, he should be.

"My exact words aren't important. I'm sure there's a transcript somewhere you can read, but basically I informed the Wizengamot that it was a shame Muggles were clearly more advanced in their lawmaking than we were."

"And that offended a number of the worst of the proud Purebloods. I thought they were going to vote against parole purely out of spite at that point, but then Mr. Zabini pointed out that without a change to the law…"

In the middle of his sentence, Kingsley paused to look at Blaise. Something must have suddenly made sense to him because he began to laugh again. Hermione only felt herself growing more annoyed. Could he kindly just get to the point?

"I see why you're being so falsely modest now. You don't want to be accused of publicly blackmailing multiple esteemed members of the Wizengamot."

"I never blackmailed anyone. I just pointed out a few legal cases from the past involving certain members of the Wizengamot or their close relatives might be in danger of being reopened again if a law against double jeopardy wasn't passed and enforced retroactively."

Finally Hermione could understand some of what made Kingsley laugh. There were indeed some members of the Wizengamot who wouldn't appreciate the past being revisited, especially after so many years. Some were protecting their children, their spouses, even themselves. If a precedent was made where a person was punished for a crime they had already served a sentence for, it was entirely possible that others might face the same fate. Better to let one Death Eater through than to put at risk countless other supposedly respectable wizards and witches.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you have an interdepartmental memo sitting on your desk right now requesting your assistance in drafting an ironclad law, Zabini."

"I wouldn't either."

"So that's why it was agreed so quickly that Barty would be paroled? Because of fears of double jeopardy?"

The two men turned towards Hermione when she spoke. Remembering they were discussing a very serious issue, Kingsley cleared his throat again. All hint of laughter was gone from his face.

"Partly, yes. Not entirely. Some of the members were ready to vote against sending Crouch back to Azkaban the moment they stepped inside the courtroom. Between the articles in The Quibbler and some persuasive conversations with Harry, they were in agreement that the Ministry was wrong to ever use the Dementor's Kiss as a punishment. Others were persuaded when I allowed them to view Crouch's memories."

"You actually allowed that? Were you not worried it would be too upsetting?"

"I looked at them myself. I knew how awful they were long before I allowed anyone else to look. Seeing what he experienced…"

For a moment Kingsley looked as if he was going to be sick. It was common amongst those who had to recall such an inhumane inexperience.

"I was wrong, Hermione. From the very beginning, I was wrong. What he experienced should never have happened. It should have never happened to anyone. If there were still dementors in this world, I would fight to pass any law that would make the Dementor's Kiss illegal as a punishment. Crouch should've been in Azkaban. Because of Fudge's decision, there was nothing else we could do in good conscience than to offer him parole."

"Thank you, Kingsley."

"Maybe don't thank me yet. There are a number of conditions that might make life a lot more complicated than it was before."

He leaned down to brush his lips against her cheek.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to the Ministry and help clean up some of the aftermath left behind."

With a nod to Blaise, Kingsley swept out of the house leaving the two of them alone. Hermione felt some of the tension in her shoulders immediately dissipate. It was unfortunate, but entirely possible that she would never feel completely at ease in the Minister's presence ever again. Too much had happened between them that they couldn't ignore. She only hoped that she hadn't ruined their friendship.

"He asked me not to tell you the full truth, but I don't see the harm. The reason there are no reporters surrounding your house nor have there been for over a week is because after your interview with Rita Skeeter, the Minister and I snuck over here to cast some security wards around your property. He was so upset about the article of you and Crouch kissing that he came to our office and asked me what we could do. Eventually, they will wear off, but there's a very strong repelling enchantment surrounding your house. Reporters and anyone else even remotely connected with the press cannot approach within one hundred meters without getting extremely itchy."

Learning that Kingsley had been a part of the effort to keep her protected in her own home meant more to Hermione than she could express. She wished she could say that she wasn't surprised, but she was. Their relationship hadn't ended well. Even if it wasn't technically a real romantic relationship, it was serious enough. To know that he still cared enough about her to be angry on her behalf and want to help make up for the worst of how he behaved in the beginning meant a great deal. His apology had been important. His actions had been even more so.

"Is that why Rita hasn't written anything nasty about us?"

A smirk appeared on Blaise's face that seemed a little guilty.

"I meant what I said earlier when the Minister was here about not technically blackmailing the members of the Wizengamot. Rita Skeeter, however, I did blackmail."

"Blaise! What did you do?"

She might have sounded as if she was admonishing him for breaking the law, but she had to bite back her own laughter. If there had been any doubt in her mind that she should've sent that message to Blaise when they didn't know what to do about the salacious photographs that were taken against their knowledge, it all disappeared in that moment. Of course he was the one she needed to rely on.

"Honestly, nothing that she hasn't done herself before. I shared some laws with her that she might not have been familiar with regarding not just blackmail, but privacy as well. The photographs that were taken of you inside your own home were illegal. She could be facing her own sentence in Azkaban for possessing them. The details aren't important. Just know that she won't be saying anything nasty about you for a very long time if she wants to stay out of prison."

"That's a relief. What about the photographer who actually took the photos?"

"He was easy enough to take care of. An associate of mine was able to track him down and it really only took a few punches before he broke. All negatives of the photographs he took that night were handed over to me that I swiftly destroyed. I forced him to take a Wizard's Oath that he wouldn't take a picture of you in your home again. It's been taken care of. He won't be a problem again."

Violence was almost never the answer, but she had to admit that she wouldn't have minded being present.

"But your associate, can they be trusted?"

"Without question. He owed me a favor. Owed you one too really. Something about saving him from Fiendfyre on the back of a broomstick."

From inside his robes pocket Blaise pulled out a small business card.

"The next time you need something repaired around your house, send Greg an owl. He's built a fairly successful renovation business since we left Hogwarts. Actually…"

He removed another card from his pocket.

"Give this one to Potter because his house is atrocious. How can he stand to live there? I was only there a few hours and I still worry about finding venomous spiders in my pants."

Completely overcome by everything that had happened that day, Hermione didn't stop herself when she felt the urge to hug Blaise again. Much more comfortable with the embrace the second time than the first, he still managed to gently push her away after a few seconds.

"When did we become best friends, Blaise?"

Startled by her question, he acted as if he was going to deny it. Before the words came out of his mouth, he furrowed his brow and sighed. Then he shrugged his shoulders.

"I really have no idea. It just sort of snuck up on me."

Her chuckles made him wink.

"Now, have a good, relaxing weekend, love. Do try to get some sleep please. We have a lot of work on Monday to complete to get the department caught back up."

Less than a minute after Blaise made his exit, the kitchen door opened for Head Auror Savage to make his. A wizard of few words, he simply nodded his head to Hermione as he crossed the lounge to the front door.

"If there is one person in this world rooting for me to violate my parole the most, it's that poor, lonely man."

Barty stood in the doorway to the kitchen with a grin. Alone again, Hermione made her way towards him.

"He's going to be watching every single move I make very, very closely. If I put a single toe out of line, he's going to swoop in, have me arrested, and then try to pick up the pieces of your broken heart."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Oh, I am? Just wait. As a condition of my parole, I have to submit to random home visits. He'll be here each time just searching for a reason to arrest me or an excuse to look in the drawer you keep your knickers."

"Now you're just being unfair."

She was close enough to him by that point that he was able to reach out and grab her. Expecting him to kiss her or maybe even initiate Round Two up against the kitchen door, his simple hug felt even more intimate. Content just to hold her in his arms, he didn't try to escalate the embrace into something more primal and frantic. Maybe he finally understood they would have thousands of nights in the future together. There was no rush to grab all he could. A long, lingering hug could mean so much more.

"I can't believe this is real. I'm still in a daze. Are you sure I'm not in the middle of a beautiful dream that I'm about to wake up from in my cell?"

"There's only one way to tell for certain."

The pinch of his side with her fingers caught Barty entirely by surprise. He was startled enough to jump backwards far enough that their embrace ended. Seeing the mischievous grin on her face brought on one of his own. After such a long, tense week it felt wonderful to not be so serious. He grabbed her hand to pull her into the kitchen.

"You should read the conditions of my parole."

Some of the dread returned to the pit of her stomach.

"There are a lot, I'm afraid."

Barty wasn't exaggerating. The conditions that allowed him to be essentially a free man were complicated. Lasting indefinitely, but likely through the rest of his natural life, he would be sent back to Azkaban for the smallest infraction. There would indeed be many scheduled meetings with Ministry officials supervising his parole and even surprise visits.

"They are strict, but I'm free."

It was a surprise to read that he would be allowed a wand again. Once he purchased one he was required to take it immediately to the Ministry where monitoring charms would be added. Using any other wand except in cases of an extreme emergency would be a serious violation. She supposed that was a small price to pay to have access to magic.

"Would you like to go to Diagon Alley right now? I know I would be anxious to have a wand again if I were you."

"No, not yet. I think I would like to take a walk first. Join me?"

Of course she didn't refuse. Fresh air, even cold air, sounded like it could do them both some good. When he headed for the back door without his cloak, she stopped him. He was going to have to remember to take better care of himself, especially since he had his freedom again.

It was peaceful just holding his hand and walking without talking. Their destination was obvious even if neither one of them could be sure who actually chose it. Never before had she walked to the cliffs with him. He was either already there when she arrived or he followed her there.

She hadn't been back to the cliffs since the night she had her freak out and Barty literally feared she would rather jump to her death than face the world that knew she kissed him. In the daylight it didn't seem so frightening. When they reached the edge and could see the waves crashing against the rocks below, Barty took a deep breath.

"I never thought I would be free again."

"But are you really free? All of those conditions of your parole…"

"None of them are unreasonable, especially considering what I've done in the past. I don't mind them. I'm going to be the most model citizen. I have too much to lose now."

To further his point, he pulled her into his arms to kiss. She felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Would it always feel like a first kiss with him? She hoped so.

"What will you do now?"

Not knowing what to expect about the future had always been difficult for Hermione. Having a solid plan or a goal to accomplish usually helped navigate the uncertainty.

"I don't really know. I promise I won't always be a burden on you."

"You're not a burden."

"Maybe not, but I do know that whatever I do next, I want to make the Crouch name respectable again, something to be proud of. Especially if one day you choose to stop being so careful with your birth control."

Standing at the cliffs in his arms with no immediate concerns felt peaceful, like something she could definitely get used to. They might have stood there a little longer if the wind hadn't picked up.

"Let's get back inside."

She had no reason to argue. Taking his hand in hers again, they began the walk back to the safety and warmth of their home. A short distance from the cliffs Barty stopped.

"Look."

He pointed to a clump of green peeking through the otherwise grey landscape. It was an encouraging reminder that soon it would be spring. Hermione smiled, grateful that together they could appreciate the simple parts of life. They would be all right. She gently tugged on his hand to get him walking again. The rush to get inside no longer felt so urgent.

With Barty at her side and his hand in hers, winter didn't feel so cold.

The End.