authorsnotes: foolish oblivious silly bbys act like foolish oblivious silly bbys
do enjoy, do review
2025 will be the year I update regularly (self manifesting)
songrecs: paris- lana del ray
The nerves were surely eating him alive.
It was foolish really, to be so nervous for something so little. Throw him in front of Voldemort, send him up against Acromantula or Giants and he'd grit his teeth and get on with it, but this? This? He was ready to curl into a ball on the new, beautiful sofa Hermione had picked out and call it a day.
But he knew there was no getting out of this.
He knew his nerves were not for the right reasons.
No, and so that was how Harry Potter found himself at the door of Malfoy Manor on a Friday night, with his betrothed, his best friend, his soon to be wife, Hermione Granger at his side.
If a time travelling version of him had told him this two years ago he'd have surely shot an expelliarmus at the man as an imposter and liar.
But he was,
Here they were.
Because even in the maddest of realities, it made sense for Hermione to always be with him, and he with her.
Everything else could be messed up, everything else could be upside down, and not make sense, but they would always have each other's backs, always be by each other's sides.
That never changed.
And soon they would be so permanent and by law.
There was no divorce among witches and wizards, once bound it was forever, and as Hermione squeezed his arm and the ornate doors to Malfoy Manor swung open, Harry felt those nerves stir in his gut on thinking on that, on the forever of it all.
And the crippling fear he'd screw it up.
Because being with Hermione forever wasn't what scared him, he had always known she'd be in his life forever, it was the fear that they'd be bound forever but be unhappy, that she'd be unhappy. There was no worse fear, no worse worry, than Hermione being unhappy.
And he being the cause.
He remembered the sleepless nights in the tent, on the camp beds, the dread, the fear, the clutching each others hands so not to be alone, the trembling as they huddled for warmth, Hermione crying into her pillow so he wouldn't hear, the despair of it all.
But he also remembered taking her hands, picking her up off the floor to dance with him, the smiles, the flash of hope, of happiness.
Her smile that made him feel like the luckiest man in the world to see it.
What if he smothered those smiles? By not knowing what to do? By not knowing how to make her happy like this? How could he know?
What if he fucked it all up?
The doors creaked open and Harry tried to push his fears, his insecurities away, and instead offered Hermione a smile, hers was tight, her knuckles white, and Harry felt a flash of shame.
That turned into a gut curling bomb of it.
Here he was, panicking over his own stupid self, and Hermione was white knuckling as gates creaked open, and peacocks flounced across the lawn. He'd asked her of course, if she could handle being here, but he should have known, Hermione was pragmatic but sometimes to a fault, putting what was necessary over what she needed.
Well not anymore, if marriage meant anything, it meant he would prioritise Hermione over anything else, he already did that in most things, but now it would be set in stone, and that meant more than politicking and dinner parties.
She meant more than everything.
Seekers reflexes always quick he bundled her to the side, by the hedges, off the path and out of the view to anyone answering the door.
"Harry!" Hermione said shocked, but he shook his head, as she stumbled and he caught her, he could see one of her hands shake, his own were steady as he held her to the wall, but they were also gentle as he pushed a flyaway hair behind her ear, smoothed down with Sleakeazy, but still wayward of course.
It was a testament to Hermiones trust in him that she leaned into his palm, didn't flinch at him bundling her off the path, and instead just awaited an explanation.
Her trust in him was absolute, he would never squander that, or make it break.
And that meant now, doing what was right, by her, damned everyone else.
No one else mattered.
"I'm sorry" He felt like an idiot, an insensitive idiot. He should have pushed on if she was okay with this, seen past 'its just a place', it wasn't just a place, he knew that, he had his own experience with torture after all, his own experience with places that made him want to curl up and scream, the astronomy tower, the courtyard, the graveyard.
He realized with horror this was Hermione's graveyard.
He still remembered that night, the fear, the terror, the horror, hiding behind a gravestone but forcing himself to his feet, to stand and fight, to be brave, to be like his Father, on his feet and facing the monster. He remembered hands trembling as he raised his wand, seeing Cedrics eyes, wide and open but dead, he remembered the pain of the crucio, the fear, the utter despair he would die by the hand of the man who'd killed his parents.
But he'd survived, as Hermione had survived this, but that didn't mean there weren't scars left behind.
And they were deep.
"We can leave" He said quickly, fuck politics, Hermione mattered more, she always mattered more, "You shouldn't have to be here"
Her smile, gentle, a little nervous, but so trusting in him, even strained, was more than he deserved.
"I'll be fine Harry" She said with a nod, all business, practical, the Hermione she showed to the world. On impulse he smoothed a thumb over her cheek, still there from tucking her hair behind her ear, and he saw her cheeks pinken under his hand.
Did they not know yet? Were they so blind?
How could they be?
"You can tell me if you're not" He said quietly, green eyes intense, Harry would blow up the world for those he loved, loyalty could be his middle name, but so could Hermiones and that was why she nodded, and leaned into him, arms around his neck, and he sunk into the hug without hesitation.
His arms were firm around her middle, he was only an inch taller than her, and so they were tucked into one anothers shoulders, comfortable, familiar, real.
Would it always be?
That was what they both feared.
"I know" She said into his shoulder, "I'll tell you if its too much"
"Promise?" He asked pulling back, resting his forehead to hers, they both drew strength from it, they drew strength from it.
How could they not know?
"Always" She said and Harry nodded, pulling back, he knew Hermione, knew if she said to him she'd tell him, she would.
That was how they were with one another.
Always. She'd used the right word.
"Its just a place" She whispered against him, and he shook his head.
"That doesn't mean its not hard" He said, and she nodded at that, an acknowledgement was good, healing even, something they both still had a lot to do.
But for now, healing was making sure they could, without the Ministry prodding and poking at them, and if Hermione said she was okay, he wasn't going to infantalise her, only hold her hand tighter, and promise to himself if she shook he'd get her out of there.
She mattered most.
"I should have offered to host" Harry said, with a shake of his head as he rejoined the path, held out a hand for Hermione, which she took, and righted herself, they both wore formal dress robes (as a party at Malfoy Manor dictated), Harry's black, Hermiones light blue, they looked the part, especially, as Harry took Hermiones hand, and held it tight. A Daily Prophet reporter would surely love a picture of them now, Harry smart and handsome, Hermione beautiful and composed.
The Wizarding World couple all couldn't wait to see married.
But to them they were just Harry and Hermione, and they'd go into the belly of the dragon together.
"Don't expect me to play doting wife hostess" Hermione warned with something akin to danger in her gaze, and Harry laughed.
"I wouldn't dare" Harry said, and then for some levity and a smile, "I don't even want to think what you'd explode in the kitchen, I remember the fish"
"Harry!" She said furiously, and then as Harry laughed, and Hermione twitched a smile, the doors opened.
"Well maybe you'd do the cooking then" She said, "And me the politics"
"Would probably work out better" He quipped, and that caused Hermione to give a real smile, a roll of her eyes, and then a nod.
"Lets go" She said, and took a step forward, and Harry followed, hand still in hers, grip steady, they'd always steady one another.
"Together?" He asked, as the wide entryway to the Manor opened up, and elves popped into view (and Hermione gave the general room a disapproving look, but not the elves themselves, never themselves).
He could hear music, and steeled himself, he wondered again if he wouldn't prefer facing down a nest of Acromantula over a formal party at Malfoy Manor.
It was a close-run thing.
"Together" She confirmed.
They would always be together.
That at least, Marriage Law or no, hadn't changed.
In fact, it would later dawn on both of them, that perhaps the marriage law was a little push they'd needed to realise.
To realise it all.
Malfoy Manor was packed.
That was all Hermione could see as elves (and Harry had to tug her away to stop her perhaps trying to offer them the small blue bow clips in her bun, or maybe one of Harrys socks), led them to the formal dining hall, or rather ballroom, bursting with couples, and officials, and all manner of people.
The music was delightful, a gentle piano tune on the air, the flowers, bursting bouquets of white, silver, blue and the softest of pinks. The ballroom floor gleamed so brightly she could see her face in it, the chandeliers spun thousands of candles, and everyone wore their jewels, their best dress robes, and their fake smiles.
This was not a place to relax, this was no some silly social occasion to drink too much champagne and dance, this was politics.
Something she hated, but knew, she and Harry would need to master, if they wanted to make sure the Ministry of Old didn't try to completely control their lives, despite their best ongoing efforts.
One glaring in particular.
Would she see it that way in years to come? Perhaps not.
But for now, Harry held out an arm, and with a giggle she took it, he always knew how to make her laugh, even if she felt uncomfortable, and yet this part of the Manor bore no resemblance to the Manor she remembered. Gone were the dark walls, the gruesome art, the sounds of screams, now little butterflies danced on the air, and pretty paintings of angels lined the walls.
Lunas touch? Or the Malfoys looking to reintegrate into Wizarding Society? Either way Hermione was thankful, her hands didn't shake as Harry passed her a drink, champagne with blue bubbles, firewhisky for him, she was okay, she really was.
Which meant it was time to work, time to politick.
She rather fancied downing her drink in response, but she took a light sip, and nodded to Harry who let out a small groan, she smirked, but then prodded him (something she'd end up doing a lot over the years, not that he ever minded), and they got to work.
Specifically to circulating.
It sounded silly, how was attending a party and talking to people work? It made Hermione want to roll her eyes, but today they were here to gauge the mood of Harry and the youth wing of the Wizengmont taking over the Marriage Law and changing it, they were here to determine how people felt, if they'd face opposition or amendments or attempted Ministry interference.
That was why they were here, Hermione may not be part of the Wizengmont, but she would be wife to a member (her cheeks pinkened), and she'd be damned if she sat at home and did nothing, she may not be able to make the laws (damn the Ministry), but she could help, and she would.
And so with a nod, she and Harry began to move around the room, arm in arm, and it was no exaggeration to say that everyone they passed stopped them.
After all Harry was a living legend and Hermione not far behind, they'd known this, Harry had grumbled about it, and yet it was quite something more having it actually happen.
Everyone stopped them, too many fawned over Harry, several fluttered eyelashes at them and Hermione felt an odd stirring of annoyance at them, and met them with glares. Many raised Headlines Rita Skeeter had pedaled, many spoke about being worried 'about the erosion of the wizarding world', it was a headache.
But they stopped to talk to Luna, Malfoy quiet at her side, and Hermione mulled they made a good team, as Malfoy glared at everyone, Luna offered her perspective and certainty in what they were doing.
Ron and Lavendar hosted with the Gryffindors and glared across at Ministry Officials trying to raise the Headlines.
It felt almost like being back in the Great Hall, they vs them, only this time it wasn't silly house rivalries, but the Ministry who wanted to restrict their freedoms.
And they would be the ones to stop them.
"You'd think they had a better plan than fear mongering" Hermione said with a frown.
"Don't underestimate it" Percy who stood next to them with his match Penelope Clearwater, with a frown, he after all knew the innerworkings, "Everyones scared, they know that"
"Scared enough to give in to no freedoms?" Hermione said with a raised brow.
"Some of them" Penelope confirmed, she worked in the International Department of Magical Cooperation and looked nervous.
Hermione knew that repealing the old laws and putting in amendments had been step one, but step two, the idea of people being so scared they might accept restrictive Marriage Laws was scary.
And something they couldn't forget.
The battle was very far from won.
"I'm not sure about not needing regular fertility testing" One of the old Ministry Heads, a Mr Barrow said with a shake of his large heads, people can't have babies without proper fertility.
"Quite right" Mrs Barrow said with a nod, "If anything that's helpful not harmful"
"Its just considered invasive" Hermione said with a glare, she would never be a delicate politician, and with Harry glaring too, neither would he, that was not the kind of duo they were, thank goodness.
Diplomats could be Draco Malfoy and his subtle politicking, or Ernie Macmillian and his obvious flattery, not Hermione and Harry, glaring, and upending the apple cart, she just knew Ron would be laughing across the way.
Perhaps the Ministry would regret putting them together.
She truly hoped so.
"Invasive?" Mr Barrow said with a shake, "We aren't muggles, its all fairly easy!"
"Then why don't you – Hermione went to interject, before Padma Patil interjected, a comment on the splendor of the room, she a better diplomat, though if it had been Pavarti she'd have probably insulted the womans awful dress robes, Hermione might have preferred that, but Michael Corner, Padmas match, also interjected with a nod, and quite quickly some facts on the invasiveness of Wizard fertility testing that got Hermione to smile.
There were several ways to confound the Ministry into compliance, and Hermione had witnessed a few there.
She still wanted to glare.
"Come on" Harry said, and then as they stepped to the side, she could see three other couples approaching them, and with a groan from Harry she glanced to the dancefloor, and made a decision, a quick tug and he followed her onto the gleaming floor as the music waltzed up another dance.
"Don't trod on my feet" She hissed as the music began; she saw a flash of nerves over Harrys eyes before he nodded.
"I'm a Seeker" He said, mock insulted, "I'm agile"
"I saw you at the Yule Ball" Hermione threw back and Harry could only nod and wince.
Thankfully he'd gotten far better as they stepped around the floor, his hand was strong at her waist, the other holding her hand aloft, his footing sure as he led them around the floor, the steps simple and easy to remember from school, and Hermione let herself be led.
It was quite nice, even as she felt eyes on them, and Harry tucked her closer, she liked that, she liked this.
Being in his arms, feeling safe there, feeling content.
Was she starting to realise?
Especially as the music sank into something slower and swayier, and Hermione relaxed her frame, as Harry pulled her close, lips brushing the top of her head and they simply swayed together.
Two halves of one whole, perfectly in synch, no trodden toes or nervous looks, just in each others embrace, comfortable and happy.
Her cheeks burned as Harry took one of her hands and placed it with his on his chest, and she leaned into him, even tucked her head closer, intimate and content.
It was the best part of the night.
It was one of the best parts, as they swayed, ignoring the world around them, of their year.
"I'd rather do this all night" Harry murmured, truthful, he always was with her.
Could they not see it?
"Me too" She whispered gently, resting her head on his shoulder, sinking into his embrace, "Me too"
They might not, not yet at least, but everyone else could.
ugh my bbys in love (they just dont know it yet)
more trials to come, specifically more wizengmonting but also oblivious bbys and .. another evil? dum dum dum
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