Disclaimer: This chapter contains multiple scenes, including dialogue, from HPatDH (Ch. 12 'Magic is Might', and Ch. 13 'The Muggle-Born Registration Commission). As you know by now, all credit goes to the OG author, JKR, for creating it all first. I did change that Ron is the one to Apparate them all to the alley outside the Ministry, instead of Hermione.
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She stood by the bins that Ron had deposited her next to and pocketed the phial Kreacher had bought off of a peddler in Knockturn Alley. The house elf hadn't inquired about why she was in need of a potion that protected the unborn from transfiguration. Granted, Hermione wasn't positive the ancient creature concerned himself with the 'whys' surrounding any of the more perturbing acquisitions she had asked for in preparation for their reckless mission.
He was happy being left to worry over what dinner Harry would prefer that night... Or if his tea was heated to his liking… Or how he was supposed to keep the boy's accommodations tidy when the elf had been forbidden to enter Sirius' old room by both occupants, current and dead…. Or the hundreds of other domestic duties he felt obligated to uphold.
The oddest part was she seemed to be the only one in Grimmauld Place that realized he had been unintentionally set free when Harry had gifted the fake horcrux to the elf. Jewelry was considered a type of clothing and it had been directly handed to him by his master… Kreacher had to have known the second the contract that bound him was served, but still, he stayed. Whether it was gratitude, denial, or the nearly seven centuries of magical brainwashing- he had chosen to stay and take care of them all.
While Harry and Ron were thankful for the house elf's food and suddenly sunny disposition, she would never be able to convey her appreciation. Not only was she free from the hours of housework it would take, even with magic, to keep the four-story home liveable. She didn't have to listen to the added complaints of starvation since they couldn't just skip into a grocers whenever they needed more supplies.
If the Trace on Harry had been broken on his birthday, as Lupin had surmised, there was no telling how the Death Eaters had found them the night of the wedding. Or why they continued to watch their hideout so closely… It was much too dangerous for everyone involved, including the oblivious muggles, for any of the three to go popping into random stores around London as they felt like.
Harry and Ron's reconnaissance missions had been risky enough.
And now they were about to throw all caution, imagined or otherwise, to the wind and head into the bowels of the darkness-infested Ministry…
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"Actually, Harry, I think that I'd better go after him. I don't think he knows what he's doing and if he gets caught..." Hermione's nervous ramble about Ron's unavoidable deviation from the plan was delayed as a disembodied melodic voice spoke from somewhere near the ceiling.
"Level One, Minister of Magic and Support Staff."
The golden grilles slid apart and she choked on her squeak of alarm. Instead of the attention-drawing cry her body had intended, a soft gasp escaped from between her lips as she recognized one of the four people who stood waiting for the elevator. A squat toadlike witch, who wore a velvet bow in her dark hair, was deep in conversation with one of the wizards.
Umbridge turned and gave Hermione a quick smile, "Ah, Mafalda! Travers sent you, did he?"
It took a few seconds for her to remember that was the name of the witch she was polyjuiced to look like, "Y… Yes…"
"Good, you'll do perfectly well." The epitome of evil pivoted on her short heels and spoke to the closest wizard. "That's that problem solved, Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start right away."
Tall and dressed in regal black and gold robes, the new Minister of Magic nodded— a look of utmost boredom on his face.
"Ten people today and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee! Tut, tut… Even here, in the heart of the Ministry!" Umbridge complained before stepping into the lift and with the two other silent wizards. "We'll go straight down, Mafalda. You will find everything you need in the courtroom. Good morning, Albert, aren't you getting out?"
"Yes, of course." Harry attempted to copy the deep baritone of the wizard whose identity he had stolen. He stepped out into the corridor, his movements stiff as the grilles slammed shut behind him, effectively cutting off any chance of her escape. Eyes wide, he glanced over his shoulder and watched as Hermione disappeared from view.
Her heart was beating so hard that she wondered how Umbridge and the unnamed wizards didn't hear. In response to her unvoiced anxiety, a strange jerk from her middle had her reeling. There was at least one pair of ears that could hear it and their owner had chosen that moment to let her know it agreed with her surge of regret.
She should have listened to Ron and stayed with Kreacher…
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"Next, Mary Cattermole." The sickly sweet voice of Umbridge called out into the heavy silence that followed the Alderton wizard's screams for mercy.
A small witch appeared, trembling from head to foot, escorted by two dementors. Unassuming as the two other wizards who had been forced through the doors, it was mind-boggling to think she was a threat. Paler than milk, she looked as if a puffskein could topple her.
"Sit down," Umbridge instructed.
Mrs. Cattermole did as she was told, stumbling to the single seat outside of the protected dias that Hermione and the rest of the gathered accusers lounged upon. The moment she sat, thick chains clinked from the arms of the detestable chair and tied her there.
"You are Mary Elizabeth Cattermole?"
Another horrific interrogation began and Hermione attempted to dissociate from the entire proceeding by watching the silver cat that acted as a sentinel against the feelings of despair that radiated from the dementors. Her hand automatically transcribed the harsh words spoken to the terrified wife and mother, as her own child did somersaults inside of her. Warning of the danger its mother had put them in.
"I'm behind you…"
She jumped as Harry's whisper came from nowhere and caused her to jump. Her hand almost overturned the inkwell she had just dipped the borrowed quill into. Hermione quickly scanned her two companions, but they were enjoying the sobs of the hysterical witch too much to notice the accidental blunder.
"Could you please tell us from which witch or wizard you took the wand?" Umbridge asked from her throne.
"T…Took?" Mrs. Cattermole cried. "I didn't t…take it from anybody. I b…bought it when I was eleven years old. It… It… It… chose me."
The horrible woman next to her leaned over the barrier of protection and giggled. "No, no. I don't think so, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches or wizards. You are not a witch. I have your responses to the questionnaire that was sent to you here… Mafalda, pass them to me."
Something shiny fell from the confines of Umbridge's robes… And the horcrux dangled into the void from the plump neck of the depraved witch.
Hermione obliged after searching through a pile of documents that were balanced on a chair to her right. "That's… That's pretty, Dolores."
"What?" Umbridge snapped, returning to her seat before she glanced down at the locket that had settled into the ruffles of her blouse. "Oh yes! It is an old family heirloom. The S stands for Selwyn. I am related to the Selwyns… Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related."
She nodded, hoping to keep the witch engaged and give Harry enough time to come up with some sort of plan. Her ruse didn't work, of course.
"A pity…" Umbridge continued in a louder voice as she flicked through the questionnaire. "...that the same cannot be said for you. 'Parents' professions: greengrocers.'"
"Stupefy!"
"Stupefy!"
Two flashes of red light were summoned from nowhere and knocked out the witch and wizard to her left. Umbridge was the first to fall, her patronus immediately disappearing when she slumped forward and smacked her head on the balustrade. Yaxley crumpled to the floor, his hand still stuck inside of his robes as he had tried to pull his wand to defend himself.
A muffled scream caught Hermione's attention and she yelled, "Harry!"
No longer protected by the regal saunter of Umbridge's Persian, the overwhelming dread that usually accompanied the presence of dementors settled around her and made it hard for her to breathe. Fighting against the new regime was useless… They would catch her… Imprison her… Torture her… Kill her and her baby…
She shook her head and wrestled with the morbid notion of surrender. And she might have listened if it wasn't for the scared face of the tiny witch that depended on her and Harry to save her. The witch that was being prepared for a kiss from a rogue dementor let out a terrified shriek. Her head was being tilted back and held in place by rotting scab-covered fingers. Hermione screamed again, "H… Harry, Mrs. Cattermole!"
A tall middle-aged wizard suddenly materialized at her side and spoke the spell she knew she wouldn't be able to cast with the lethargy that made her muscles feel like lead. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
His silver stag soared from the tip of his wand and rushed the dementors, which sent them scurrying up to the shadows of the tall ceiling. It was stronger and brighter than Umbridge's patronus and the warming light managed to fill the majority of the dungeon. Proud to have done its job, it cantered around the understandably confused witch who had just narrowly escaped death.
"Get the horcrux," Harry ordered as he stuffed his invisibility cloak into his bag and ran to help the woman.
Hermione listened. She unclasped the locket and pulled the chain from under Umbridge's double chin. Her skin tingled as soon as she made contact with the metal. If it was a side effect of the monstrous piece of soul within or her mind playing games, she couldn't be sure. Regardless, she did not have the time to reflect on that specific quandary…
"Hermione, how do I get rid of these chains?"
"Wait one second… I need to…"
"Hermione, we are surrounded by dementors…"
"I know that Harry, but if she wakes up and the locket is gone… I need to duplicate it." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the foul piece of jewelry. "Geminio!"
As quickly as possible she replaced the counterfeit and ran down the steps to join Harry and the still-secured Mrs. Cattermole. "Let's see… Relashio!"
The chains fell away and withdrew back into the arms of the chair. More frightened than she had been being interrogated, the newly freed witch whispered, "I don't understand."
"You're going to leave here with us," Harry told her, continuing his instruction on what she and her family should do once they made it out of the Ministry as he pulled her to her feet.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably as she stared at the back of the heavy wooden door, knowing what awaited them. "How… How are we going to get out of here with all those dementors outside?"
"Patronuses. As many as we can muster." He said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. With some silent instruction, his own slowed and walked towards the door ahead of them. "Do yours."
Hermione hesitated for a second before attempting, "Expec… Expecto patronum…"
Nothing happened.
"It's the only spell she ever has trouble with. Bit unfortunate really…" Harry consoled the bemused Mrs. Cattermole before turning back to her. "You can do it, Hermione…"
She took a deep breath and cleared her mind of the chaos. Thoughts of various happy memories came and went, none of them were strong enough to fill her with the emotion needed to dispel the depression that had become her constant companion. Not even being told that she was a witch, the one memory she could always count on, worked.
Knowing she would pay the penitence later, Hermione tore down the carefully crafted walls around the times spent with him. The feeling of his lips on hers that first night when he had asked for a kiss after saving her from herself. The way his body had felt curled up next to hers when she had awoken the morning after he had taken her virginity. The joy on his face the moment she had accepted his proposal and promised to become Mrs. Granger-Malfoy.
She tried again and an otter burst from the tip of her wand and joined the stag that patiently waited.
Harry gave an approving nod and then stalked forward, "Come on…"