authorsnote: sorry for the slow update, but I'm glad to say inspiration has struck!
do enjoy, do review
songrecs: chemtrails over the country club - lana del ray (why is this such a perfect fanfic writing song?! lana does it again)
The next day, the enormity of what he's done settles on him.
He knows there was no other choice, that the Ministry was just as it had been before the war; corrupt, fascist as Hermione would say, eyes sparkling and hair crackling, and she was right, the Ministry, Kingsley, and the few good eggs aside, could not be trusted.
And so, all there was, was him, and the other leaders of the Wizengmont, currently sat around the table in Malfoy Manor.
How he'd ended up here he wasn't sure, but here he was. Surrounded by purebloods and sponsored individuals, nay a muggleborn in sight. It was the typical make-up pre-War, and when Malfoy had sent around the invitation the night before following the scene in the Ministry, he'd initially wanted to send back a not-so-subtle howler.
But Hermione, and Arthur had pointed out to him how Wizarding Britain couldn't and wouldn't change overnight, even Hermione, glaring the whole time, Ron and Lavendar sat around the Weasley kitchen table, nursing cups of tea, had acknowledged they had to at least initially work within the system, they had to work with what they had to change things, that they had to take it bit by ugly bit.
"It is like S.P.E.W" Hermione had said reluctantly, "I went too fast, we can't do the same here if we want to make effective change, we have to go somewhat slowly if it is going to stick"
"She's right" Percy had said, the odd man out but the man who could help them the most, "You'll never change the Ministry, not really, too much power in the old laws and old ranks, but you can make some change, bit by bit, that has to be the aim"
To Harry, who had always been the type to barge in and hotly declare his intentions, rather than to be subtle (Ron and Hermione were the same, subtlety was not a Gryffindor trait), it was an odd game to play, but one, now sat here in Malfoy Manor, sans Hermione and Ron, he had to.
For now, he couldn't think about Hermione, his complex feelings for her and where they were, what they meant, he had to think on a wider level, and he knew each of the men (because yes, as Hermione had fumed, the Wizengmont was not just old school, but super old school, sexism included, he could spot less than 10 women sat among the ranks), around the table were in the same mindset, this wasn't about each of them, and their confused feelings, it was about what this meant for everyone.
In particular, how to stop the Ministry overstepping to the point of control, yet again.
It was becoming a theme.
"So" Harry said as they all looked to him, Malfoy sat at the head of the table, as it was his house, but he had passed straight over to Harry after elves had wheeled out the refreshments and he'd thanked them all for coming, it didn't surprise Harry, not only did Malfoy probably resent the idea of having to work at all, but he clearly had no intention of getting up on his soapbox and leading the way, it wasn't his style, nor his intention.
Hermione had even pointed out, that would be Harry's job.
The world already had cast him in that role, now he had to take it.
And he would, reluctantly, for her, for all of their friends and family, for the future of Wizarding Britain. The Ministry could not be allowed to dictate this law, they all knew the law itself were necessary, Harry knew at least and would have to explain it here, the figures didn't lie, but the rest of it? The rest of it stunk of control and corruption.
"Me, Ron and Hermione looked into the research the Ministry are basing the law on" He began, he didn't preamble or try to frame what he planned to say, he just said it, Harry's directness was one of his many strengths, though sometimes it was a weakness, at least he had some tact "And the research at least, the data as Hermione said, it's true, its real, that part can't be denied"
"How do you know?" Theodore Nott, who Harry recognised spoke, Harry recalled he was paired with Percy, they'd be expected to adopt, no one was escaping this law. The new Wizengmont was made up still of the same families, but many of the old guard purebloods were either dead or imprisoned, it was their heirs that sat in these seats now, heirs no more. "Did you look at the records?"
"Yes" Harry said with a nod, more confident in himself now as he continued on, and everyone around him looked intrigued, not bored or annoyed as he'd feared;
'You're good at this' Hermione had said before he'd left with a smile, 'Remember that'
Her words warmed him, as he carried on, "Squib births are up, not enough people are having children, and not enough children, only one or at most two, and even before that not enough people are getting married, and as we know Witches and Wizards have to be married to conceive" He hadn't known that, but it made a lot of sense considering the figures, no accidental pregnancies in the Wizarding World, adding to the abysmal numbers.
"Well, we can't all be the Weasleys" Someone said snarkily.
"Knock it off Mulciber, we all remember your Father sired a Squib" Malfoy drawled, he didn't flinch or even raise an eyebrow, he just spoke commanding and clear, with a sneer to his voice, it reminded Harry unsettlingly of his Father, Lucius Malfoy, and as the purebloods deferred to Malfoy, Harry was getting the unnerving sense this might be the dynamic, he had an unwilling, snobby, possibly hostile second-in-command.
… That was betrothed to Luna, who'd smiled and winked at Hermione, he hoped that was a good sign.
But he had to take everything he could get if they were going to hold the Ministry to account. That was what they were here for after all. He needed the purebloods, he needed Malfoy.
"There is nothing wrong with Squibs" Harry insisted, trying not to lose his temper, it was less to the surface now, a calmness had settled over him with the end to the war, but his buttons could still be pushed, "But, the Ministry are concerned about the Wizarding population, and for good reason. It isn't all divination, it is clear facts, it looked bad, not enough marriages or births, not nearly enough"
That hung unspoken in the air for a moment.
"Then if we can't fight the Marriage Law itself, what are we going to fight?" Someone asked, Harry thought it was Charlotte Marchbanks, who'd taken over her Great-Aunts seat, but he wasn't sure, it dawned on Harry he really needed to learn everyone's name. He wondered who she was paired with, he supposed he'd have to learn that too. There was a lot more to politics than any of them had considered.
"Everything else around it" Harry said, and he didn't realise it, but now he sounded like a leader, now he sounded like the leader, "The monitoring, the fine print, the number of children we have to have, the rubbish around fertility boosters" He sounded fierce then, "Everything that they have no business doing"
"The Ministry always oversteps" Graham Montague said with a frown, though his expression was the most pleasant Harry could remember ever seeing, perhaps a year in a Vanishing Cabinet had mellowed him out, "It never knows when to stop"
"Then we have to stop it Montague" Blaise Zabini said, he looked more detached from the whole thing than even Malfoy, "Evidently"
Blaise Zabini, Ginnys match, Harry tried not to openly stare at him, but he glanced his way, and yet Blaise betrayed nothing, not a flicker or a glance, though he did meet Harry's eye, had expected him to look. Harry didn't back down, he and Ginny may not have worked out as a couple but he still cared about her, still wanted to make sure she was safe and happy.
"Yes" Harry said, getting back to the point, "In the emergency session of the Wizengmont, Hermoine said we can call a vote" In truth, he, Hermione and Ron had spent the night before reading through the makeup of the MInistry, the by-laws (well he and Ron had eventually been reading the same line over and over, Hermione had cut through the dull legal text and figured it out), it was extremely confusing, and another thing Harry knew he needed to get up to speed on, and fast.
"One of us can call the vote" Malfoy drawled, "For the politics of it all, it should be someone fairly senior" This was the part Harry despised, he didn't like the fact all of these decisions, the very fate of all them lay on the layering of politics, on doing it 'the right way', to Harry the right way was doing it quickly, directly, and not wasting time. "But someone who spoke at the initial meeting"
"We all know it needs to be you or Potter, Malfoy" Blaise said with a delicate roll of his eyes, "Though I suppose Potter might not be able to get through it without shouting or cursing the Ministry name"
"Then it lies to me" Malfoy said, and Harry knew this had to be pre-planned, the back and forth, the solution, and he felt both annoyance and relief. "I will call the vote in outrage of the Ministry daring to command the pureblood families, Potter you take over that it should be all for Wizarding kind or that drivel"
"It should be for all of Wizarding kind" Harry shot back, and Malfoy nodded, Harry had no idea what his stance was now, on politics or any of it, but at the very least Luna had vouched for him, and that for now had to be enough. "And I will make that clear" He paused then, "This isn't about pureblood families or Squibs, this is about rights for all Wizards and Witches, regardless of their blood status or background or wealth" Harry spoke fiercely, "The days of rights for you and them, and then us, are over"
"Is that clear?" He paused, raised an eyebrow, he didn't care that he was surrounded by purebloods and Slytherins, if they expected him to lead, he would, but with his values. He knew it would be a battle, and winning this one would not win all of them, but he had to make a start.
"Then we have a plan" Theodore Nott said with a nod, and the rest of the table looked satisfied, Harry wondered if this had all been worked out before he'd gotten here, or whether he'd had any influence at all, or whether they just needed someone willing to stand up when they wouldn't. Either way, Harry knew he had to do this, knew he couldn't let the likes of Malfoy, Zabini and Nott, redeemed or not, decide the future of Wizarding Britain.
He had to lead that now, and he would.
When he returned to Grimmauld Place, it was not to inaction.
In fact, he found Hermione, hair pulled back with the curls springing madly around her face, dressed in one of his old Gryffindor Quidditch jerseys (and he didn't linger on the odd feeling like a roar in his chest when he saw the name 'Potter' across her back), wand in hand, a book hovering in front of her, and an old record player set up on the side, playing the Weird Sisters latest hits.
She had clearly been busy whilst he had been forced to linger with the new members of the Wizengmont, drinking fine whisky (that he'd barely coughed around, he was sure the others had been pretending to enjoy it), and had escaped into conversation with Jonathan Ogdon, who had inherited his seat after his Father had vacated it to focus on the family business following a boom in sales (even more than usual) following the war, he had agreed whisky was awful, whipped out a bottle of Firewhisky and began to talk about the making process, which had been despite Harry's worries, interesting.
And so, whilst he had been politicking (almost against his will, he wondered when they were married if Hermione could represent the Potter seat?), Hermione had been hard at work, as the living room of Grimmauld Place, in all its splendour, was back to that … splendour.
The old wallpaper had been stripped away, the furniture polished until it gleamed, a roaring fire sat in the hearth and all of the books on pureblood mania had been stacked into boxes (he imagined Hermione couldn't stand to throw books away, any book), leaving empty bookcases he was sure Hermione would be thrilled to fill. The large cabinet had been cleaned, and now held behind sparkling glass several pieces of Black memorabilia, goblets, and cups, but with no house-elf heads or boxes with curses, again leaving room to be filled.
The old sofa had been stripped and recovered, and Hermione had chosen deep burgundy and gold for the colours, not quite Gryffindor Common Room but close enough that it felt like home. The old drapes and rugs had been beaten until they stood crisp and clean, the entire place looked like it had been transported. It wasn't trendy or fashionable, but it was cosy, comfortable, sparklingly clean, and large, the room looked huge now the desolation was gone, but then this was the residence for those of a Noble House, it stood accordingly.
Kreacher had ensured the grime and dirt was away now he'd come around, and Harry knew the kitchen wouldn't need touching, but Hermione wasn't just cleaning an old Mausoleum of a house, she was decorating it, making it theirs, whilst honouring Sirius … it was perfect.
"Harry!" Hermione jumped as he emerged in the doorway, she grinned and quickly silenced the record player, which too was clean and sat on a table under the window, that had been opened, airing out the room, the windowpanes too shined, allowing the autumn sunlight to filter through. "You're home"
Home … his chest felt warm, but he forced himself to push it aside, even as the warmth glowed inside of him. He pulled it back then, allowed himself to soak in it … home.
"I hope you don't mind" She said quickly, with a smile, but a nervous one, she swiped her wand, "I just went out, grabbed some bits, redecorated a little" He noticed some new cushions on the sofa, a nice tartan throw, "Not much, but I thought it would be nice, I mean, if we plan to live here, if, but …"
"Hermione, I love it" He said quickly, cutting her off, knowing Hermione rambled when she was nervous, but wanting to not give her any reason to be, he beamed.
This was how the house was meant to look. He had always been nervous about changing it, to spoil Sirius' memory, but he realised as he looked around, imagining Hermione's books filling the cases, imagining the snitch, his own pieces of treasure filling the cabinet, he and Hermione and Ron, sat on the burgundy sofa and the comfy looking white armchairs, the fire crackling, glasses of butterbeer being drank, comfy, warm, home.
"Really?" She sounded relieved, grinned, and swiped her wand to add a finishing touch, the portrait in the corner was cast down, the wallpaper stripped and vanished, replaced with clean white paint with a gold trim. "I was thinking of adding some plants, for air quality, but otherwise I was thinking we just take it room to room and sort it out, make it nicer"
"Sounds good to me" He said with a grin, because it did, it really did … to have a home that wasn't Hogwarts, or half broken places like Godrics Hollow, like Grimmauld Place, it sounded wonderful, it sounded like he, and perhaps Hermione, now her childhood home was gone, needed, desperately needed.
"I've packed up anything for you to go through, mostly books on blood purity and portraits I quite enjoyed bringing down after they called me names" She said with a grin, and Harry smiled.
"I think we can safely burn them" He said with a serious nod but a smile and Hermione giggled.
"But anyway, how did it go?" Hermione asked, ushering him to the sofa, a glass of butterbeer each in hand later, and Harry was halfway through the story about Millicent Bullstrode pulling him aside to ask him to send a letter to her Mother confirming he didn't want to marry her, when she was giggling so hard he had to stop.
"Politics not for you then?" She asked with a cheeky grin and Harry laughed, and the thought from earlier sprang to mind and he said it before he could stop himself.
"Do you think when we're married you can be the Potter representative on the Wizengmont?" He asked with a smile, and he only turned then back to Hermione who looked stunned, but managed a smile, a nervous slightly stunned one, but it was a smile.
"I..." She stumbled, but it wasn't awkward, it was nice Harry realised, to think even with everything going on, the uncertainty, the worry, the burgeoning acceptance they would be getting married, it didn't feel awkward, that was good, "Only if you back me for Minister for Magic after Kingsley"
"Who else would get it?" Harry joked, and they both grinned. "I think they'll just naturally call you up"
"Well then, I suppose I could be Minister for Magic and occupy the Potter seat, though I might have to hand it back to you for no conflict of interest" She mocked.
"As long as I can play Quidditch in the meantime" He said with a glint in his eye, "And chase the rest of the bad guys"
They paused then, and something hung over them, something serious, and both of them absorbed, the joking, the banter, but it all felt real, very real.
"It's all going to happen, isn't it?" Hermione said, she didn't sound sad, or scared, or even resigned, just … serious, her eyes wide, her gaze meeting his, warm brown to his green.
"It is" He said with a nod, as it settled over them, "And quickly"
"Within the month" Hermione said, reminding him, there was a time limit on this, unless they could push it back.
"Maybe" Harry said, "We've got to get through the session on Thursday first"
"And from there?" Hermione asked, and he smiled, took her hand, the fact she slid hers into his without hesitation was a good sign.
"From there we get married"
aha thoughts?
this fic will move at a quicker pace now ... trust me
I loved writing political Harry lol. This isn't a Lord Harry fic, Lord Hadrius, he does not want to be there lol, but there will be plenty of reluctant politicking which Harry as always will be surprisingly good at (in some cases)
do tell me watcha thought, and I promise chapter 11 asap!
