Chapter 54: The Not-So-New Ballroom
One would assume that a request to see-someone-out involved walking the requesting party to the exit. Alas, apparently not when the requesting party had other ideas, and was the Minister for Magic of Wizarding Britain.
Instead of seeing Harry and the Minister off at the apparition circle, and revoking the access to the island for at least one of them, Hermione Granger found herself speechless at her own oversight...
In the middle of the Grotto House's ballroom...
Surrounded by the floating portraits of Wizengamot's esteemed members.
'The joint team coordinated by Arthur Weasley has been working to identify those slandering the sitting members of Wizengamot for several months,' the Minister's gaze settled on Bellatrix.
The Minister walked around the room, paused for some time in front of his own likeness, then approached Hermione at the center of the room. Bellatrix was at her usual window seat, closest to the room's center. Harry sat several windows away from Bellatrix, in front of the group of Hell's occupants.
The wizards hadn't examined materials under each portrait. But the room spoke for itself. Tiny summaries with to-do notes were attached to most of the portraits. The small but telling set of witches and wizards whose misdeeds were aired to the public occupied the HELL square. Bright question marks marred portraits where information was sent but hadn't been acted on.
'It's only slander, if not true,' Bellatrix returned the look with a blank stare and a tiny shrug.
Harry's stunned expression was turning to worried. Hermione was fairly certain this was the first time her friend saw the room's contents.
'I must say nobody considered a war hero to be in the middle of this new assault on our government,' the Minister on the other hand seemed to be quite prepared for the situation.
Hermione folded her arms.
She had several days to put the house to rights.
She thought she had.
The unprocessed-by-Bellatrix howlers were destroyed. The ancient Marriage Manuals, romantic novels of dubious nature, and The Activity Guide were all banished to the backs of the back shelves in the library. Even the purple stick's location was triple-checked to be hard to access for the spoopy visitors. The potion lab was void of dried goo on the ceiling. Bellatrix's bedroom was liberated of questionable items.
Hermione suddenly recalled a few times she stood at the closed ballroom door wondering why she was there when there were so many things to do...
The ballroom doors had been confunded.
The rush to conduct the interview as soon as Bellatrix was awake made more sense. One of them was bound to notice the odd behavior of the other regarding it.
This meant the Minister had a plan.
Bellatrix must have figured something out too. The witch's expression was blank. Only the tapping fingers betrayed her disquiet.
'Wizengamot takes it very seriously when people assault the stability of the Wizarding Britain government,' continued the Minister. 'The charges of high treason are being considered.'
The punishment for treason was life confinement or death.
Hermione swallowed. She felt her heart moving into her ears.
Wizengamot wouldn't risk public outcry. Some of the public would be simply on Hermione's side. Others would see that as an assault on Bellatrix. Surprisingly enough, there were those sympathetic to the dark witch, or, possibly, sympathetic to their union. There would be those too who would see her arrest as a cover up.
The disclosures did uncover a few serious crimes.
So, she would be charged with something else then... They would likely confine her long enough to feel like a true loss of time. True punishment. Three years, perhaps... or five...
She glanced at Bellatrix. The witch blinked back flatly.
How ironic that of the two of them, Hermione would be the one in the dungeons.
'Of course if one of the parties was unduly influenced into these criminal acts by another…' The Minister looked meaningfully at Hermione. 'The innocent party would be free from any and all ill consequences. Including any new situation which might lead to a similar poor influence.'
The Minister produced several heavily creased parchments, and handed those to Harry.
'Potter, compare these missives to the scrolls under the portraits on your end of the room.'
Silence set over the room as Harry looked for the names on the parchments.
Hermione knew that soon enough her friend would find what he was ordered to find. She made copies of everything she sent.
Harry reluctantly rummaged through the materials under one of the Hell portraits. He understood the Minister's plan. However, some things at the interview implied that Hermione might not be as amendable to the plan as the Minister expected.
He just knew the things were very likely to go terribly off track.
Soon.
'Ignorant blood traitors! The lot of them!'
Scrolls tumbled from startled Harry's hands.
Each screeched word was punctuated by Bellatrix's slow step towards the middle of the room. Towards Hermione and the Minister. The screech turned to hiss. 'Your law sullies every pure line left!'
Hermione took several calming breaths. She absolutely hated Bellatrix hiss-and-screech routine! This was possibly the worst time to black out.
Bellatrix, clearly unconcerned with Hermione's inner turmoil, switched back to screech.
'They pair me to a mudblood! They dare?!'
Mudblood?!..
Hermione looked at the dark witch closely.
Bellatrix's left hand kept up its nervous tapping, out of place among the outward fury the rest of the witch stance displayed.
Bellatrix was up to something.
The screech turned to singsong.
The fury on the face suddenly switched to glee, making the witch seem even more unhinged.
'They don't deserve - the seats they have! They don't deserve - the peace they seek!'
Harry, frozen for a good while of the spectacle, grabbed the closest scroll with much more enthusiasm.
The concern in Harry's eyes was replaced by pleased vindication.
'Aha!' exclaimed Harry, and grabbed another one and another one. 'Aha! Aha! Aha!'
He rapidly walked the length of the room, grabbing folded scrolls from under random portraits, peeking inside, then adding to his stack.
'Of course… of course!' he repeated.
He walked up to the Minister.
'Hermione had nothing to do with it at all! This is not Hermione's writing!' He held one of the collected scrolls open for the Minister to see. Then another and another. 'I've copied... uhm.. seen enough of Hermione's notes to know her handwriting!'
His collected stack slid from his grip to land in a small pile at the Minister's feet.
'This is what you do with your second chance, Lestrange?!' Harry looked around searching for Bellatrix, 'Treacherous, ungrateful- Hermione! Step away from her!'
With Harry's attention on the scrolls, and the Minister's attention on Harry's antics, Hermione inched close to Bellatrix.
'What are you doing?' she hissed into Bellatrix's ear.
The witch smiled serenely, looking too much like Umbridge for Hermione's liking.
'Whatever you mean, pet?'
'This is not the time for mind games!' Hermione was ready to pull at her hair. 'Is this about that day? I'm sorry I tied you to the bench... and for taking too long... and for healing you all wrong...'
Bellatrix's placid expression wavered briefly. Yet, the next moment the serene little smile was back. Along with wide eyes, a tiny one-shoulder shrug, and complete lack of sincerity.
She tried to step around Hermione, a bit unsteady.
Hermione pulled the limping witch to her window seat instead.
'Is it about this morning? I certainly am not plotting to torture you! I don't regret saving you, alright. It was the heat of the moment. And you weren't saying nice things either!'
'I don't need your pity! Or your protection! I didn't ask you to heal me! Or protect me!'
'So what, you will land yourself in the dungeons in protest?!'
'You know nothing!'
Something about Bellatrix anger and her absolutely illogical stunt told Hermione that perhaps she actually knew more than the dark witch wished her to.
Harry was conversing with the Minister.
Hermione knew very soon the attention would be back on them.
This was no use.
With Bellatrix's confession, no one would look further. If she allowed the witch to be taken, Bellatrix was as good as dead.
Bellatrix attempted to step around her again.
'Rabastan said you submitted to me,' Hermione murmured under her breath.
Bellatrix's eyes flashed angrily, not confirming but not disputing.
'The book says,' Hermione continued, once again pulling the witch closer and whispering into Bellatrix hair, 'that means you accepted me as the head of the family.'
Bellatrix's balancing grip on Hermione's shoulder turned painful.
'Hogwarts the History tells you that?'
Hermione patted the biting hand, and grinned.
'Nope, darling, Marriage Manual of 1779'
Bellatrix eased her grip some.
'Do you even know what that means?' the witch smirked.
The mention was brief, as if a common knowledge, as if the reader was supposed to know.
Bellatrix's smirk turned triumphant.
There were sounds of somethings being dropped.
The Brightest Witch of current generation was not to be easily dismissed though.
Hermione leaned back in to once more whisper somewhere close to Bellatrix's ear.
'That means you… defer... to me. Not to your dead lord.' She swallowed back a yelp as Bellatrix nails bit into her shoulder. 'Not to your dead husband. Me! So for Merlin's sake, Bellatrix, sit down and stay quiet!'
The painful grip on Hermione's shoulder disappeared. The witch took a step back, and folded her arms.
'Or?' Bellatrix drawled.
Hermione glared.
Bellatrix raised her eyebrows.
Hermione bit her lip.
Bellatrix smirked wider.
'Or I'll take away your privileges!'
A very peculiar expression set over Bellatrix face.
Hermione gulped.
Bellatrix blinked, and blinked again. Then a startled fit of giggles burst out of the dark witch as if against her own will. She continued to cackle as she mockingly bowed to Hermione, and plumped back on the window seat, arms folded, foot tapping.
Hermione took a calming breath, beyond surprised that that actually worked.
She wasn't looking to the rest of the encounter though.
She had absolutely no plan...
'Harry...' Harry's eyes held so much hope in things working out. Hermione hated disappointing her friend. 'Surely auror's training covers the confusion and concealment charms.'
Hermione cast the simplest counter assuming correctly that Bellatrix wouldn't have been able to come up with anything intricate, wandless and on short notice. Writing in the scroll Harry held open changed shape to a more balanced and even, and painfully familiar to the Boy-Who-Lived, penmanship.
'There was no treason. No attempt to overthrow the government. Missives targeted the individuals not the institution. Everything in those writings is based on the public records, or printed gossip. The embarrassment they felt is small price for condemning generations of witches and wizards to forced matrimony and reproduction.' Hermione firmed her lips. 'I regret nothing.'
Hermione looked apologetically at her best friend. Harry clearly figured that the activity was likely of Hermione's doing. He however didn't think about the reason till she spelled it out.
The Minister sighed loudly muttering something resembling such a waste under his breath. He didn't concern himself too much with her reasoning either. It was possible he even had a hope for Bellatrix being the true culprit, on account of her supposed mental issues.
'Very well Miss Granger, we let the High Court decide,' the Minister ignored Harry's alarmed sir. 'You are under arrest.'
Hermione knew the moment they stepped into the room that that was going to be the most logical development. Yet, somehow, even after her own confession, she was still stunned at such turn of the events.
Bellatrix observed the situation with a blank expression. Her foot kept tapping. Her thumb twirling the gifted ring round and round her finger. Hermione hoped the witch wasn't about to do something which'd land her under arrest too.
'Come along, Miss Granger,' the Minister paused at the doors.
Harry's eyes met Hermione's. That's when Hermione started to hope that Harry wasn't about to do something which'd land him under arrest. She shook her head at her impulsive friend. He glared in annoyance, and refused to meet her eyes.
Instead, Harry spat a string of names in an odd order.
'Weasley. Parkinson. Granger. Mal-'
'Potter!' barked the Minister.
The names clearly meant something to the Minister.
Harry strode to the doors. His mutter was too low to hear clearly for anyone but the person it intended for.
'..will argue... ..valid reasons... ..war hero and a... ..leap of faith... ..the Ministry... ..the scandal… ..second thoughts…'
The Minister responded in a rumble, too low to catch any distinct words. His mighty frown though gave away his feelings about whatever Harry was saying.
Harry didn't look particularly happy either. Hermione counted two times he rubbed his scar. The angry flush was working its way onto his cheeks too.
'Old news-' at the Minister's shush he glanced at Hermione and Bellatrix and lowered his voice so much that only a reputation and a Commissioner a few sentences apart were recognizable.
The two wizards stared at each other for a long moment.
'Hermione had a lapse of judgment.' Harry said loudly, glaring bullishly at the older wizard. 'But... looks like the whole Wizengamot had, at one time or the other. Surely, there could be another solution, sir?'
Minister Shacklebolt didn't rise as high as he did on dueling skills alone. So the most influential wizard in Wizarding Britain let go of his outrage and his pride, and set out to make the best of the situation.
'Auror Potter makes an excellent point,' The Minister looked around the room. 'This stops right now. We'll confiscate everything here, before we leave.'
Hermione looked with regret at the piles of research. At least it sounded like the Minister didn't plan to confiscate her as well any more.
'Potter, you will personally vet all the seating members of Wizengamot, including the newcomers. You will investigate all the leads in these... papers, even those already published. You are off all other cases until you do. Criminally suspicious findings would be pursued accordingly by experienced teams. No more dirty laundry and children's indiscretions in the public forum! Is that understood?'
Harry looked with a new sense of horror at the piles of parchments. This was worse than Robards threat of a desk job. This was the desk job.
The Minister wasn't done.
'Potter, you will be sworn to secrecy, and surrender any materials regarding the other thing. I won't be blackmailed again.'
Hermione looked wide-eyed at Harry. She thought he persuaded the Minister not blackmailed him. Harry returned her look with the chagrined one of his own. He clearly didn't think what his actions were exactly.
'Treason charges are presented to the closed court. There is no court of public opinion.' The Minister looked pointedly at the two friends. 'You have one chance to accept. Or both of you are heading there.'
After two faint nods from Harry and Hermione, the Minister looked at Hermione.
'I advise you to act more prudently in the future, Miss Granger. Your disquiet with the passed law cost a great deal to a talented auror. And your friend. You are barred from the Ministry positions. Indefinitely. Furthermore, you are barred from positions of influence, particularly those dealing with the next generations of wizards and witches. Also, indefinitely. The sealed note of the same will be added to the relevant DMLE security rosters.'
Hermione blinked back her shock. She wouldn't give the Minister the satisfaction. This was the true end of her aspirations. Meaningful careers involved being in the position of influence... As if there were that many opportunities for her skills in Wizarding Britain... As if she wasn't barred from the Ministry before... But now it was official, and officially endless.
'Potter, start packing.'
Harry grabbed his wand, thought about it, and decided to collect things by hand. Just to be on the safe side.
'Five years'
The three jumped at the quiet snap, startled, for the second time in less than an hour, by Bellatrix.
'Excuse you?' the last person the Minister wanted to deal with was the dark witch.
'Five whole years is plenty of time for everyone's.. egos… to heal.' Bellatrix examined her nails. 'After all… I did do unspeakable things to my wife. The wife your government so graciously provided…'
Bellatrix once again produced the sickeningly sweet Umbridge-like smile coupled with raised brows.
'Of course the poor thing lashed out…'
Bellatrix stood up, cocked her head slightly to the side, and shrugged.
'I promise to be good,' and smiled once again.
The Minister glowered.
He pulled his wand.
Moments later all the papers and all the portraits were stacked neatly inside the conjured boxes.
'Ten years' the Minister snapped finally.
As it turned out, the visitors were able to see themselves out.
Just in case, Bellatrix made sure they didn't get lost this time, by trailing silently some distance away.
End of Chapter 54
