Chapter 11,
As the dust settled on the harrowing aftermath of the second task, with the loss of life still a fresh wound on the collective conscience of Hogwarts, Harry Potter found himself grappling with the weight of what lay ahead. The tournament had ceased to be a mere competition; it had become a crucible of survival, shaping him in ways he had scarcely imagined. In this crucible, every decision, every action took on a new significance.
Determined to leverage every possible advantage, Harry invoked his status as a Triwizard champion to venture beyond the confines of the school. The purpose was clear: to prepare, to arm himself with knowledge and resources for the final task. Despite Professor McGonagall's evident disapproval, her hands were tied by the rules governing the tournament. Champion business was, after all, champion business.
Accompanied by Moody, his adviser in this clandestine mission, and Hermione, whose presence was initially obscured by an invisibility cloak, they set off towards Hogsmeade. The local pub's Floo Network served as their gateway to Diagon Alley, the heart of wizarding commerce and intrigue.
Once beyond the school's protective embrace, Moody's sharp eyes quickly pierced Hermione's magical veil of invisibility. With a gruff admonition, he reminded her of the folly of her ruse. There was little need for subterfuge among allies.
Their destination was Gringotts, the imposing goblin-run bank that stood as a testament to the complex relationship between wizards and the other magical beings of their world. As they approached, Moody offered a crash course in magical politics and economics, his words a mixture of warning and wisdom.
"Goblins," he explained with a hardened edge to his voice, "are not our friends. They respect power, contracts, and gold. They'll never outright harm a wizard—too many treaties for that—but they'll bind you in contracts that'll bleed you dry if you're not careful."
He continued, "The tournament, by its very nature, has thrust you into adulthood, Harry. You're likely considered emancipated under magical law now. That means you have rights to your family's holdings, but it also means you're fair game for every clause and codicil they might try to snare you with."
As they stood at the entrance to Gringotts, Moody paused, his gaze lingering on the towering doors. "I can't go in with you. Last time I was in Gringotts, let's just say the cleanup bill was steep, and I'm not keen on repeating the experience. Remember, Harry, don't sign anything without reading it thrice over. Ask for a standard blood rite test. You're likely entitled to more than you realize, possibly even the title of Lord Potter."
With a pointed look at Hermione, he added, "Don't dawdle. Look for anything that might aid you, but remember, gold can weigh you down as much as it can free you. Meet me back here, and don't take longer than two hours."
As Moody concluded his lecture, the seriousness of their undertaking settled over them. They were about to step into a world of ancient legacies and hidden truths, a place where the lines between ally and adversary blurred. The bank, with its labyrinthine corridors and vaults filled with centuries of secrets, awaited them.
Harry and Hermione, standing on the cusp of discovery, realized the gravity of their next steps. The journey into Gringotts was not just a quest for material aid but a pivotal moment in Harry's journey, a step towards embracing the legacy and responsibility of his family name.
As they prepared to enter, the lessons of the past, the advice of their allies, and the shadows of the tournament's trials loomed large. Ahead lay answers, dangers, and decisions that would shape the path to the final task and beyond.
Upon their entry into Gringotts, the imposing goblin-run bank, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger left behind the watchful gaze of Alastor Moody, who remained outside, wary of reigniting old conflicts within those marble walls. Hermione, fully visible and ever the voice of reason, accompanied Harry, her presence a stabilizing force amidst the unknown they were about to navigate.
Their first undertaking was the blood inheritance ritual, a procedure Hermione insisted upon despite its cost—a steep 10 galleons, a sum not lightly parted with considering Harry's limited financial knowledge and the average wizard's earnings. This ritual unveiled a tapestry of lineage and legacy; Harry was not only Lord Potter, with all the rights and responsibilities it entailed, but also the rightful heir to the ancient and enigmatic House of Slytherin. Yet, this title came with a hidden snare: a legacy of debt that had accrued over centuries, a burden Harry was quick to sidestep. The decision was made with caution; the title of Slytherin would remain unclaimed for now, a specter of power and potential ruin.
The heart of their venture lay within the main vault of House Potter. As the heavy door swung open, revealing a trove of gold and artifacts untouched by goblin hands, the weight of history surrounded them. It was here, amidst relics of the past, that a simple exchange—a ring, offered in jest by Harry to Hermione—ignited the magic of an ancient marriage ritual. The air shimmered with power, the vault bearing witness to their unintended union.
Stepping out from the vault, they were met with the keen eyes of Gringotts' tellers, who recognized the change in their status instantly. "Lord and Lady Potter," they declared, extending to Hermione the courtesies and titles befitting her new station. Offers and services, designed to appeal to the sensibilities and spending habits of the wizarding nobility, were presented with a flourish. Yet, for Harry and Hermione, these enticements fell on deaf ears, their minds reeling from the shock of their sudden marriage.
With a polite but firm refusal of the goblins' offerings, they exited Gringotts, the reality of their situation settling heavily upon them. Meeting Moody outside, they kept the news of their marriage to themselves, a secret too fresh and too raw to share. Their next stop, a purchase made necessary by the upcoming challenges of the Triwizard Tournament, was dragon armor—a practical and essential acquisition, devoid of the pomp and circumstance that had marked their time within Gringotts.
As they made their way back to Hogwarts, the events of the day hung between them—a mixture of discovery, decision, and unintended destiny. The gates of the school loomed ahead, marking the end of one journey and the beginning of another. They had entered Gringotts as students, as friends, and left as something more, bound by ancient magic and facing a future neither could have anticipated.
The return to Hogwarts for Harry and Hermione, now bonded in an unexpected marriage, marked a significant shift in their lives. As they crossed the threshold of the castle, they were met not by the familiar warmth of homecoming, but by the solemn figure of Professor McGonagall, who promptly ushered them into her office for a conversation that would lay bare the new realities of their situation.
"Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter," McGonagall began, her tone carrying the weight of her position. "While the circumstances of your marriage remain unclear to the school, the fact remains that you are now united in the eyes of the wizarding world. Here within Hogwarts, we do not recognize titles among students, hence, you will be known as Mrs. Potter."
She paused, allowing the gravity of her words to sink in before continuing with the stark legalities their union had thrust upon them. "Mrs. Potter, it is crucial you understand the consequences of your new status, particularly concerning the laws surrounding pregnancy at Hogwarts. Should you become with child before completing your fifth year with passing grades, you would be subject to severe measures."
McGonagall outlined the grim protocol in precise detail. "You would be expelled, your magic bound, and your memories altered to remove any knowledge of the wizarding world before being sent to live as a Muggle. This is a measure the Ministry does not take lightly, but it is deemed necessary for the safety of the individual and the secrecy of our world."
The professor's gaze softened slightly as she addressed the stark difference in policy for older students. "Upon successfully completing your fifth year, the consequences, while still severe, allow for a life within our community, albeit outside the formal education system."
She stressed the point that a significant number of students chose not to return for their sixth and seventh years for various reasons, including the pursuit of magical lifestyles and careers that did not require the full extent of formal education Hogwarts offered.
"However," she added, a stern edge returning to her voice, "any use of magic outside the protective confines of a school environment by those not meeting the Ministry's educational standards is met with stringent consequences. Magic bound, memory alteration, or in the most tragic of cases, more permanent solutions are employed to maintain our world's secrecy and safety."
"Another matter you must both be acutely aware of is the community's stance on abortion," McGonagall continued, her voice taking on a graver tone if possible. "In our society, it is not merely a controversy but a deeply abhorred act. The penalties are severe and unforgiving. Anyone found to be involved, directly or indirectly, faces a punishment as severe as death. This law does not discriminate based on age or status."
The room seemed to grow colder with each word, underscoring the draconian reality of the world they were navigating. "Such decisions, while personal in the Muggle world, are public and punishable offenses in ours. It's crucial you both understand this."
With a gesture, Harry was bid to step outside, leaving Hermione alone with McGonagall. The atmosphere shifted, becoming even more charged with an intensity that was almost palpable.
"Mrs. Potter," Professor McGonagall continued with a gravity that seemed to draw the very air from the room, "it's paramount you grasp the full implications of your new status within our society." Her gaze, stern yet tinged with a rare flicker of concern, fixed upon Hermione. "The balance of power in your marriage is decidedly uneven. A husband, especially one with the stature of Lord Potter, wields an extraordinary degree of authority over his wife."
A momentary pause allowed the weight of her words to settle, a precursor to a warning of even graver consequences. "You must tread carefully, Mrs. Potter. Associations, particularly with individuals of the opposite sex, must be navigated with the utmost discretion. Even the slightest insinuation of impropriety could lead to dire consequences. An accusation of adultery, regardless of its truth, often results in the wife being placed at a significant, almost insurmountable, disadvantage."
"Mrs. Potter," McGonagall began anew, her tone imbued with a sternness that brooked no argument. "In our society, the accusation of adultery carries consequences that are both swift and brutal. Should Lord Potter ever levy such an accusation against you, his word alone would hold enough sway to condemn you."
The weight of her words was suffocating, a stark warning of the peril Hermione now faced. "The unfortunate truth is that in a case of alleged infidelity, especially where a muggle-born wife is concerned, the lord's accusation is often deemed sufficient proof. The penalty for such a transgression is beheading. Not even the testimony of Merlin himself might be enough to counteract the charge laid by a lord against his wife."
"Furthermore," Professor McGonagall pressed on, her tone underscoring the severity of Hermione's new circumstances under the binding contract of marriage, "upon your union with Mr. Potter, everything that was yours as Hermione Granger became the property of House Potter. This includes all possessions, magical artifacts, and yes, even the clothes upon your back. They are now under the jurisdiction of House Potter, and it is solely at the discretion of its Lord—Harry—that you have the liberty to use them."
The room seemed to contract with the weight of her words, a tangible representation of the narrowing of Hermione's world within the strictures of magical law. "Should the marriage end in divorce, you would be left with absolutely nothing. Stripped bare of all possessions, with no legal claim to anything you once considered yours. The clothes you wear, the wand you use for magic, every single item down to the most personal belonging would remain with House Potter."
McGonagall's gaze softened slightly, though the gravity of her message remained undiluted. "In such a case, the wizarding community, out of respect or fear of offending House Potter, would shun you. Finding employment or even assistance would become near impossible, as no one would dare risk the ire of Lord Potter."
She let the reality of those words sink in before continuing, "It is also imperative to understand that the magical bond created by your marriage requires time to fully integrate. You and Harry are bound together for a minimum of one year before the notion of divorce could even be entertained. This period allows the bond to settle, to weave itself into the very fabric of your beings. Attempting to sever it prematurely could have... unpredictable consequences."
The implications of McGonagall's lecture painted a stark picture of the path that lay before Hermione. Her autonomy, her very identity, had been subsumed under the auspices of her marriage to Harry, leaving her navigating a precarious line between maintaining her sense of self and adhering to the expectations and laws of the wizarding world.
As the meeting concluded and they were led to their new marital quarters, the reality of McGonagall's words enveloped Hermione. The room, with its singular large bed, served as a constant reminder of her new life, one bound by ancient laws and the whims of a society that viewed her not as Hermione Granger, but as Mrs. Potter, Lady of House Potter.
In this new chapter of her life, Hermione was forced to reckon with the immense power dynamics at play, the delicate balance of maintaining her identity and navigating the expectations of her elevated status. The realization that her future, her very existence, was now intertwined with Harry's under the watchful eyes of a world governed by traditions and laws steeped in antiquity was both daunting and sobering.
As they stood on the threshold of their shared future, the discomfort of their situation was palpable. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a resolve within Hermione to face the challenges ahead, armed with the knowledge of her position and the determination to forge a path that respected her newfound status without losing herself in the process.