Chapter 3: The Avery Situation
Hermione appeared in a small alley close to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries with a soft pop of apparition.
The alley was dark and quiet. The hour was late. The match announcements usually ran from 5:30pm to 11:30pm, and her match froze the bar display at 11:21pm.
A whispered Homenum Revelio confirmed that no one was around. A Lumos revealed brick walls framing the passageway and surprisingly clean ground without gooey puddles or overflowing trash cans in sight.
She knew she should hurry up. Her friends were not stupid. They would figure out where she went, eventually. She didn't want their input until she had more information and had formed her own thoughts and solutions to this problem.
She straightened the parchment against the brick and brought the shining wand close to it. The parchment stubbornly displayed Bellatrix Lestrange as her spouse-to-be.
Hermione groaned, stuffed the document back in her robes and headed out of the alley. She still felt like finding a pillow to sob into or a neck to ring, preferably a neck belonging to a member of Wizengamot. Regrettably, neither was available. With a deep sigh, she stepped through the magical barrier of the condemned department store and appeared inside the entrance to St Mungo's Hospital.
'Miss Granger! What an honor!' A bored wizard at the hospital welcoming booth cheered up at her arrival. 'Are you here to visit someone? The visiting hours are over for the day unfortunately.'
He sounded sincerely regretful. The news must not have reached him yet.
'Unless it is an emergency?' He cheered up again and looked hopefully at her.
Hermione bit back another bout of hysterical laughter, but just barely.
'If this is not an emergency I don't know what is.' She stated firmly. The wizard still had same hopeful expression, but made no move otherwise. She thought for a moment and added with a bit more doom in her tone, 'I'm here on the Ministry business.'
'Very well then, if you just sign the visitor log here… do you know where you headed or you require directions?'
Before she could answer a group of three aurors pushed through the doors, and without acknowledging anyone, headed deeper inside.
'That's rude,' she murmured, mostly to herself.
The wizard heard her though.
'Ah that is quite common. They are probably heading to the 2th level. They try to transport the Death Eaters at night, to keep public peace…'
'Oh?'
'We have only a few left. The 2nd floor holds the contagious disease isolation rooms. After the final battle most of them were turned into high security cells for injured Death Eaters. By the time the sickest few were ready to be released Azkaban fell. We've been trying to persuade the DMLE to find other accommodations. We do need the space for the truly sick.'
He fell silent, gave a cursory look around the waiting room, and, satisfied that nothing had changed, refocused on Hermione.
'That must be inconvenient… I understand Bellatrix Lestrange is still here too?'
He sent her an odd look.
'Yes, moved to Janus Thickey Ward.' He rubbed his chin. 'Is that why you are here? The Ministry inspection?'
Hermione hummed noncommittally.
The healer became even more flustered.
'As ordered, Lestrange is not guarded by the aurors anymore. They set prison grade wards to keep her in, and the hospital had wards added to keep everyone but approved people out. Would you like to talk to the healer in charge?'
Hermione frowned, and forced herself not to pull her already ruffled hair in despair. This didn't bode well for her at all if the dark witch couldn't even be trusted around armed aurors.
'That's a lot…' She wasn't sure a lot of what and left the sentence unfinished. 'Did she hurt a guard?'
He once more looked oddly at her, and Hermione felt she was somehow messing up her accidental cover story.
'No.' He spoke slowly and looked uncomfortable. 'It is for her protection… after some incidents came to light… you understand.'
She did not understand but she could think of several possibilities.
Hermione thought back to Harry's words. Now that her brain has reset from initial shock, she remembered the Avery situation.
…It was the first day of the circus . She was still smarting from her Wizengamot hearing the previous day. The thought of staying home alone, pretending to read and waiting to learn of her match, was just dreadful. So when Harry invited her to join him and Ginny for dinner and drinks, she immediately agreed.
Neither Ron nor Hermione expected to be unlucky enough to match the very first day. For just a day, they allowed themselves to treat the going ons as a silly amusement, joking about the matches of witches and wizards they knew, and gossiping about those they did not. Ron even participated in several rounds of betting, much to Hermione's disapproval.
When the evening was almost over, and most bar patrons, including their group, were properly tipsy, the name of Augustus Avery popped up. Pureblood, 46 year old, financier and known Dark Lord's backer. He was matched to a 33 year old half-blood witch, homeschooled shop owner, with no war affiliations.
'This cannot be…' told her tipsy brain.
'The law is for single adults under the age of 45, right?' Ron's confused mumble broke into her musings. 'How is-'
'17 to 43' Hermione stated absentmindedly. She spent the last two days reading and rereading the law looking for loopholes. She could quote it by heart at this point. 'Older single folks of hm… reproductive ability… are allowed to owl in their info for participation if so desired.'
'We must talk to Kingsley, Harry! This is sick to force innocent witches to marry known Death Eaters!' Ron's outraged voice echoed Hermione's thoughts exactly. 'I'm moving to Australia, if that happens to me.' She added.
So the next morning the trio went to the Ministry, and talked, quite loudly, to the Minister, insisting that they didn't fight in the war just so the Ministry could put unsuspecting witches and wizards in harm's way.
The morning after, the Daily Prophet announced Wizengamot's amendment to the Marriage Law.
The witches and wizards could now refuse their first match, and take part in the second matching after the first round was complete. In cases where known Death Eaters were concerned, the potential spouse was free to decide the Death Eater's fate, from a blanket pardon of past misdeeds to a death sentence. No judge, no jury, no appeal. Spouse-to-be decision was binding and final. In cases of death sentence, the spouse's duty to Marriage Law was complete.
'That is not justice! They are giving the incentive to regular folks condemn to death without regard to the actual crime!'
And so the next day, to no one's surprise, Avery was executed.
What startled Hermione most at the time was Harry's bitter mutter 'She didn't even want to have him killed' as he frowned at the moving pictures of the Evening Prophet front page.
'So, would you like to speak to the healer in charge of her care?' the wizard prompted.
Just then, the entrance doors opened and a rowdy group helped two injured wizards through. The wizard excused himself and hurried to the group to help.
Since Avery's situation, three more similar cases popped up and three more executions took place, a witch and two wizards. In Hermione's opinion, only one of all executed would have gotten the Dementor's kiss if judged properly.
Harry's idea made sense, if there ever was a witch deserving of being treated without regard, Bellatrix was that witch.
And yet…
In a sudden moment of willful contrariness spiced with a dose of accumulated resentment, Hermione pulled the crumpled parchment with the Intent to Marry contract. She conjured a quill, signed her acceptance and scribbled several words into the Additional Stipulations section.
Only then she noticed that the contract was already signed by the other party.
'Lestrange has some nerve!' she mumbled.
The contract flashed bright yellow and settled, making it official and binding in accordance with current laws.
Hermione looked furtively around the waiting area. She felt like every eye had to be on her now. Yet, the waiting room was as apathetic as it was a moment ago. Only the new group talked agitatedly between themselves and with the wizard on duty. No outraged howlers swept through the doors and windows at her either.
She shook off silly thoughts and took advantage of the wizard's distraction. She slipped through the stairway doors and headed to the 4th floor.
Out of curiosity she paused at the 2nd floor. The hallways were quiet, no auror in sight.
Loud voices confirmed her suspicion even before she entered the 4th floor from the stairway. A group of the three aurors she saw earlier crowded a door at the very end of the long hallway.
As Hermione got closer, she realized that they weren't arguing between themselves but with a tall blond witch in pale gray robes. Narcissa Malfoy.
'What is she doing here?' Hermione mumbled under her breath as she slowed her approach. She did not expect to deal with more than one witch who hated her mere presence. 'Hope the whole family is not there. One Death Eater at a time is plenty...'
She was close enough now that she could hear the words.
'You have no papers and no just causes that can override my decision.' The blonde's tone was cold, the words clipped and clear. 'I do not give you permission to enter, as is my right.'
Hermione was close enough to see the group in detail.
The three wizards in black auror outfits had annoyed but arrogant expressions on their faces. Their wands were out, but held loosely; to warn or to intimidate rather than to respond to a real threat.
Malfoy matriarch looked as composed and statuesque as ever, but her eyes were tired and her gracefully clasped hands held onto each other with seemingly too much force.
The group was so involved in shooting looks and barbs at each other, they somehow didn't notice Hermione even as she paused just several doors away.
'Mrs. Malfoy is within her rights as the governor and next of kin for Madame Lestrange,' The quiet voice cut in. Hermione realized there was another person in the group, a short witch, in lime-green robes of a healer; clearly displeased and not very much impressed with the theatrics from all present. 'Return tomorrow with appropriate paperwork, and I will key you into the wards of the room. Hospital will have no objections for transport then.'
'Lestrange will be dead by the end of tomorrow anyway.' Sneered one of the black clad figures. 'You delay inevitable you Death Eater bitch. And when we catch Malfoys, so will they!'
The pale hands clasped around each other even harder, skin taut and almost translucent over knuckles, but the blond witch remained silent, simply glaring at the aurors.
'You are out of line,' snapped the healer. 'Don't even think I won't be filing an official complaint with Robards and Shacklebolt about the ruckus you created on this floor. Leave now!'
'Nuh, we'll wait.' The speaker conjured a chair and sat down, the other two followed suit.
'What are you going to wait for? You cannot continue disturbing peace here, most patients here are not Death-'
The healer didn't get a chance to finish as the aurors got up again.
'Her!' The leader pointed at Hermione.
Hermione gulped, then glared at all five in turn. She didn't want to deal with the Ministry so soon and refused to be bullied into it. She however didn't feel like dealing with Narcissa Malfoy either.
'Is Bellatrix Lestrange behind that door?' She narrowed her eyes at the healer.
'Yes, but-'
'She is my match, and I will have a minute with her.' Hermione pulled the parchment and showed it to only the healer. The healer clearly didn't realize. At least one person was doing something more productive with their evening then. 'It is late, so I prefer that minute now, please!'
The healer shot her a pitying look but said nothing more, simply turned towards the room and keyed her into the room's wards.
'We will be here to take her off your hands, Granger, when you are done with her.'
She heard the sharp inhale from the witches at the room entrance, and snickers from the wizards in black uniforms, and pushed down the desire to pull at her hair in frustration.
She turned and glared at all five once again.
'That won't be necessary.'
This time there were five sharp inhales.
She shook her head, pulled her wand out and disappeared behind the door and behind the wards.
'Miss Granger, please…'
'Shut up, Malfoy, she has proper-'
The door and the wards hid the corridor conversation.
End of Chapter 3