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The Prisoner	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 63563 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: I thank everyone for reading, rating and reviewing: brightneeBee, DB1, Gabby0515, Dahliania, Al_Riddle, Midnightermoony.
Replies to reviews can be found at: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/19576-the-prisoner-by-nerys
I thank my betas: Serpent In Red and Cosettex.
xxx

The Prisoner
Chapter 15
He seriously hoped he wasn’t too late. The Dark Lord would flay him alive if he were. Of course, if he were too late, there was always plan B. However, that would turn incredibly ugly, and he wasn’t convinced his real client had the stomach or the will to go through that kind of long-term battle. She had opted to resign her position after all. At last, he reached the door to the Head of the Department of Mysteries. Not waiting or even knocking, he threw it open, barging inside in a flurry and startling the parties present.
Perfection.
As he’d expected: three against one. Just his client, while on the opposite side of the desk sat the Head of Personnel, Ms Rooney-Scrimgeour, with McGregor on her left and the obvious legal aid—whom he didn’t know but identified by the traditional robe—on her right side.
‘I trust you weren’t taking advantage of my client by talking to her without her Orator present,’ he said smoothly. Hermione had her head turned and was staring at him with an expression on her face that he couldn’t quite make sense of—she seemed … triumphant? Odd. When Hermione opened her mouth, he stopped her from speaking by holding up his hand.
‘Not another word,’ he warned, pacing past her and stopping in front of the desk so the others had to look up. ‘You’re paying me to handle this.’
‘You’re her Orator?’ McGregor asked, a mixture of badly disguised disgust and surprise running through her tone of voice.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he immediately pulled the official retainer out of his pocket and handed it over. McGregor snatched it away before the others had a chance to take it. Standing there, he watched as her eyes flickered over the retainer that his office magically made whenever a client obtained his services. Then, McGregor abruptly turned to Hermione.
‘You hired him?’ Now the disgust was blatant.
He allowed his client to confirm that but blocked any other words coming from her mouth by stating, ‘Do continue to talk to my client instead of me after it was established that she’s represented by an Orator. All it makes me hear is ka-ching.’
If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man right now, but he didn’t care; he was used to that, actually revelled in it. As long as opposite sides hated him, he was doing something right. Besides, the Ministry staff was too familiar with him and his tactics; there really was no point in hiding his familiarity and knowledge of the law. They were aware he’d take advantage of every bit of wiggle room the law provided him. Fortunately, they often weren’t insightful enough to fully catch his long-term plans for achieving victory.
‘Can I see that?’ Rooney asked neutrally, holding out her hand to McGregor who pushed the retainer in it straight away. Her eyes flashed over the document before handing it to the aid on her left. ‘Check this for authenticity, please.’ As the aid got up and left, she turned to Alan Jensen and said, ‘Why don’t you sit down, Orator Jensen?’
A chair appeared behind him at once.
‘Thank you,’ he said cheerfully, ‘at least someone has the decency to offer me a seat. However, I think—’ He rubbed his chin contemplatively. ‘—I want to take a look at this first.’
He quickly snatched the clearly Muggle paper with the tiny handwriting off the desk, certain he was holding Hermione’s resignation letter. However, when his eyes flashed over it, all he read was a recipe for some kind of stew. He quickly checked the rest of the desk, but there were only empty parchments present. No resignation letter. He was a dead man.
‘You want her sweet potato and beef stew recipe, too?’ Katie asked mockingly, leaning back in her chair while crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Okay, keep your composure, Alan. Just work with this, you still have a job to do. ‘This is Ms Granger’s?’
‘It’s her handwriting, isn’t it?’
Bingo! Even better than a mere magical signature on a retainer. Game, set, match.
‘True. Why, I had no idea you could cook, Ms Granger. I have to say this does seem delicious, doesn’t it?’ he replied, straining a smile as he put down the recipe back on the table.
‘Yes,’ Katie said, sharing a glance with Rooney.
Slowly, he turned his back to the three at the desk, staring suspiciously at his client. A suspicion that rose tremendously when he saw the smug curve of her mouth and the triumphant, knowing glint in her eyes.
Why hadn’t he seen this coming? She hadn’t resigned; she probably wasn’t even planning to. She’d used him to find out how the Dark Lord would react to this development.
Granger shifted in her seat, propping her hand under her head. ‘We, of course, haven’t discussed a thing until you got here. Well, apart from some chitchat about food and the weather,’ she said pleasantly. ‘It’s been ghastly lately, wouldn’t you agree?’
And she’d been expecting this outcome. Damn. The Dark Lord would not be pleased. However, if he could hear the amused undertone in Granger’s speech, there was a good chance so could the others, which meant that he had to shut her up now. They couldn’t know there was desertion in the ranks … unless when he could use it.
‘I would’ve preferred it naturally if there hadn’t been any contact yet.’ He walked to the chair and calmly sat down. ‘After all, I know how easily these allegedly only-social conversations turn into something with legal consequences … all accidentally of course,’ he added the latter with a knowing sneer towards the three at the desk.
‘You wouldn’t be suggesting that we’d do something improper now, would you? Everyone who is on this side of the table is on Hermione’s side,’ Katie said slowly, her eyes flickering between Jensen and Hermione shrewdly.
‘Well,’ he said, clapping his hands together and leaning forward as if planning to get out of his chair, ‘if that’s the case, I suppose we can call it a night and go home. Clearly, my client can go back to work tomorrow then.’ He turned towards Hermione, whilst checking the time, and said, ‘That’ll be three-hundred Galleons, dear. Easiest money I ever made.’
Granger snorted at his antics, sharing his amusement. He winked at her before looking back expectantly at the two others who remained ever so quiet. It was obvious to him that McGregor was still trying to work out the dynamics between him and Granger, while Rooney was trying to keep her cards closed until the aid returned. It wouldn’t surprise him if they hoped for a slip-up on his or Granger’s end. Fortunately, his client was smart enough to keep her mouth shut, despite the extremely uncomfortable silence that had risen in the room. Many times, his perfectly drawn-out plans were screwed over by wordy clients who didn’t use their ears or brains when he told them to remain quiet or only answer the damned question. This was a refreshing change.
Right then, the aid came back in, confirming it was, indeed, Hermione’s handwriting. He held out his hand and received the retainer back, pocketing it at once. It served its purpose even though he didn’t need it anymore with that recipe on the table.
‘Well,’ Rooney coughed, ‘now that you’re here, I may as well inform you that your client has called this meeting to discuss her position as an Unspeakable, given recent developments. Considering the possible consequences of her now compromising position, it’s this Ministry’s standpoint that, alas, we have no other choice than to ask for her resignation, effective immediately.’
‘Oh, I think not,’ he bluntly replied.
‘The other alternative being that we fire her, which would reflect badly on any future career path Ms Wea—Granger might aspire to.’
Interesting, he’d been using ‘Granger’ as a demonstration whom he was not representing. He hadn’t expected Rooney to use his client’s maiden name, too. Clearly, they were all still playing nice. Oh well, that wasn’t going to last long.
‘Again, I think not.’
‘Exactly what do you have in mind then?’ Rooney asked neutrally.
‘Oh,’ he said lightly, ‘I was thinking my client’s suspension should be lifted immediately. She should go do her work as usual; visit her husband; perhaps receive a significant pay rise.’
Katie—who’d leaned back in her seat as if distancing herself from him as far as possible—snorted. ‘Are you delusional? She’s Voldemort’s wife. You’ve got no leverage here. Once this becomes public knowledge, she’ll be out of a job for the rest of her life.’
‘Is that a threat?’ Jensen asked sweetly.
Katie leaned forward and replied in the same sweet tone of voice as him, ‘No, it’s a matter-of-fact.’
‘Sounded like a threat to me,’ Jensen said contemplatively.
‘I don’t care wha—’
‘Katie,’ Rooney interrupted, ‘I’ll conduct this interview.’
‘Did it sound like a threat to you?’ Jensen asked Hermione.
It was a rhetorical question and they both knew it. Hermione merely smiled at him and gave him a shrug. He began to like his client more and more by the minute. It was always nice to work with the intelligent ones.
‘Yeah, that definitely was a threat and a rather bad one, too, I say, since this Ministry has more to lose than my client should this become public knowledge.’
‘Nobody is threatening anyone,’ Rooney said soothingly. ‘Ms McGregor was merely stating her outrage at your unrealistic demands. Like I said before, Ms Granger’s resignation is inevitable. Should we receive a resignation letter, we’d of course supply Ms Granger with an excellent letter of recommendation and will pay her salary for the next two months in order to give her time to find new employment.’
‘Whoa, two months, be still my heart,’ Jensen mocked. ‘I think you’ll be paying an awful lot more if you continue along this line. My client is kindly offering you the chance to simply continue employing her—take advantage of her productivity—something I firmly advised her against since she can basically lounge on a beach for the rest of her life once I’ve taken every single Knut this Ministry has and perhaps a tad more just for kicks.
‘But before you start blabbering about how wrong I am, let me break it down to you: You have a large government organisation with a severely bad reputation. I have a known Muggle-born war heroine who risked her teenage life time and time again to save others. A known Muggle-born war heroine who received zero protection or support while conducting her ministerial assignment at Azkaban involving the most dangerous dark wizard of all time—this after the incidents with Healer Cutler and his students. A kno—’
‘I’m sorry for interrupting you there,’ McGregor said calmly, ‘but you’re talking nonsense. There was no need to send additional staff with Hermione since Riddle can’t get out of his cell.’ As she turned to Hermione, her tone of voice was suddenly a lot kinder, ‘Why didn’t you stay in the corridor as ordered? Nothing bad could’ve happened then.’
‘Please refrain from addressing my client directly. I’m sitting right here.’
‘Fine,’ Katie snapped at him, ‘if your client had stayed in the corridor where we presumed she was, he wouldn’t have been able to force her into anything. You need to have had physical contact at least once in order for Moirae to be able to do her thing.’
‘Interesting,’ Jensen said quietly. ‘So, it’s your official testimony you were unaware that my client was inside his cell all this time?’
‘Of course I was unaware of that. Do you think I’d let my Unspeakables alone with him?’
He pointed towards the paper on the desk. ‘You’ve identified that as my client’s handwriting before, have you not?’
Katie stared at the paper silently, while Rooney frowned at the sudden change in subject.
‘These are official proceedings, so I’ll have it on record.’
‘So what if I have?’ Katie asked defensively, but he could tell she was already onto where he was going with this.
‘I’d like to see the notes my client supplied you with after her visits to Lord Voldemort.’
‘Those are classified,’ Katie said with a triumphant smirk at him.
‘So, if I were to obtain a document with Lord Voldemort’s handwriting on it, it would be your sworn testimony that none of those classified notes were in his handwriting?’
Alarmed, Rooney held up her hand. ‘One moment, Orator Jensen. McGregor, with me,’ Rooney said brusquely as she rose from her seat and paced out the door.
‘I’d love a coffee,’ Jensen said over his shoulder to the exiting couple.
The door slammed shut with a bang.
‘I suppose that’s a “no” to coffee,’ he muttered, faking disappointment.
After some time, they finally returned.
Rooney, as expected, was the one to do the talking. ‘We’re not denying that some regrettable mistakes have been made on our end. However, that doesn’t change the fact that Mrs Riddle was under clear instructions not to enter his cell, which she decided to disobey at her own risk. Neither did Mrs Riddle ask for assistance once nor did she inform us promptly of the dangerous situation she had got herself into when her marriage became a fact. These are all heavily weighing reasons for discontinuation of her employment.’
So, they’d switched to ‘Mrs Riddle’; it seemed the velvet gloves had come off.
‘It’s the employer’s responsibility to guarantee their workers’ safety, both psychologically and physically. The moment it became clear that my client was inside his cell, disobeying a direct order, there should’ve been at least a conversation about that, initiated by the Head of the Department of Mysteries, Ms McGregor. Has such a conversation taken place?’
‘We do not comment on the internal proceedings of the Department of Mysteries,’ Rooney replied evenly. ‘You’re well aware of that.’
‘I’ll take that as a “no”, then,’ he said loosely. ‘And that “We do not comment” argument will make for such wonderful headlines in the press, wouldn’t you agree?’ He shivered in delight. ‘Just envision it. I’m betting heads will roll in no time.’ He let that sink in for a second before continuing, ‘No, instead of having a conversation with my client about her work situation, Ms McGregor ignored it, deciding that the results my client brought forth were more important than her well-being and the possible risk to her life.’
‘Tha—’ Katie started.
‘I’m not finished,’ Jensen interrupted coldly. ‘I’m also appalled at the cavalier attitude of this Ministry in stating that this is all my client’s responsibility when no psychological assistance was given to my client who was visiting a known master manipulator with serious mental health issues on a daily basis. It cannot be expected of my client to make an objective analysis of her own psychological well-being under those circumstances. It shouldn’t even have been up to her to ask for help. Help should’ve been provided beforehand and during, every single day, on a compulsory basis. That this was not done is negligent at best and reckless endangerment at worst.
‘If I have to go to the Wizengamot over this, I’ll go for the latter since—like I said—I have a known Muggle-born war heroine, who while in the service of this Ministry, got forced into a permanent marriage with her enemy, Lord Voldemort, and is now stuck with him against her will for the remainder of her life. So, due to this Ministry’s actions, my client, a known Muggle-born war heroine, lost the love of her life, Ron Weasley. My client, a known Muggle-born war heroine, who this Ministry then tried to dispose of as quickly as possible exactly like the Ministry of Magic did to others like her during the Dark Lord’s days in power. You lot are going to make me unbelievably rich. Well,’ he shrugged smugly, ‘unbelievably richer.’
‘I’m afraid you’re mistaken there,’ Rooney intervened, holding up her hand to Katie. ‘As damaging as the above may seem for us, legally, we’ve obeyed by all the rules. It’s Mrs Riddle who, as an employee, failed to follow the code of conduct she vowed to uphold herself when she didn’t mention her marriage to Lord Voldemort at once. We cannot overlook such a clear transgression of the Unspeakable code of conduct even if we wanted to, given her record as a war heroine.
‘We’re not trying to, as you so inflammatorily called it, “dispose of” Mrs Riddle. On the contrary, we deeply regret having to ask for the resignation of a formidable, brilliant employee, and we’re taking into account everything she did for the wizarding population by allowing her to resign her position in silence, with pay, a glowing recommendation and the knowledge we won’t advertise her current marital status to the world.
‘We’re even forgoing a full investigation to her activities and whereabouts since we, right now, are willing to presume said marital status was not a voluntary choice. I daresay that given the circumstances, we’ve gone to great lengths to be exceptionally lenient here. Most employers would not have given Mrs Riddle the option to resign by herself.’
‘Hmmm… yes, all by herself,’ he said sarcastically, ‘with no added, outside pressure whatsoever. What kind of bond is my client married under?’
Rooney raised her shoulders and turned to Katie who shook her head.
‘I think you’re well aware that kind of information is not on the marriage certificate,’ Rooney said.
‘You’re admitting this Ministry is unaware which bond my client is married under?’
It was quiet for a moment before the hesitant answer came. ‘Yes.’
‘So it’s also your statement that it’s not duress when you deny my client access to her husband without confirming whether or not that’s a health risk to her?’ He leaned back, placing his fingertips together and watching Rooney’s head swivel to Katie in irritation.
‘Keeping her away from Riddle is essential for her safety and the security of this nation,’ Katie replied blankly.
‘Oh, now, keeping her away from him is essential to her safety. Is it your official statement that knowingly denying my client access to her husband while being aware most of Moirae’s bonds include a clause of obligatory physical contact is not a form of duress?’
‘Are you in danger, Hermione?’ Katie asked, worried, looking past him.
He sighed. ‘How many times do I need to repeat this: Please, refrain from addressing my client directly. As your aid just confirmed for you, she is represented by an Orator. And please answer my question. Is it this Ministry’s official position that it’s not duress when it denies my client access to her husband, knowing it is highly likely that it may harm her health?’
Rooney held up her hand. She leaned towards McGregor and, for a moment, the two were whispering back and forth. Finally, McGregor leaned back, clenching her jaw. Someone was not having a good evening. He looked at Rooney expectantly.
‘If Mrs Riddle had informed us that this was the case, we would have—of course—immediately undone the restrictions on her access,’ Rooney said smoothly.
‘Am I not speaking English?’ he asked, looking at Hermione questioningly.
She raised her brow in response; her entire face nonverbally questioned him mockingly if he really wanted an answer to that and, if so, whether she were allowed to speak now.
A client with a brain and a sense of humour, lucky him.
‘Were you informed when you were denied access that said restriction would be lifted if your life was in danger?’
‘No,’ Hermione said; he could tell she was biting back a smirk.
‘Then, there we have duress.’
‘Only if her life truly is in jeopardy. So, is it?’ Katie asked sweetly.
‘Hereby, the Head of the Department of Mysteries acknowledges that she has the capability of asking about any risks to my client’s health and has foregone to do so before implementing a rule that could kill my client.’ In order to be heard over McGregor’s sputters of protest, he raised his voice slightly, ‘The fact that Ms McGregor hasn’t done that beforehand is gross negligence at best and, at worst, a deliberate undue duress to get my client to resign her position. Either way: I win,’ he stated triumphantly. ‘As for your previous monologue regarding this Ministry’s perceived lack of legal wrongdoings, I’m telling you that none of that matters in the court of public opinion. I can see it now,’ he widened his hands, ‘front page of the Daily Prophet in big bold letters: “War Heroine Railroaded by Ministry of Magic, This Is How Our War Heroes Get Thanked”. With the amount of copy we’ll supply them with, I think they may spend a whole print on it or perhaps do a featured series.’
Before Rooney had a chance to stop her, Katie said, ‘If you’re under the assumption that Ms Granger has no skeletons in her closet, Jensen, you’re duly mistaken. If you want a public fight, do understand that I will win it and I will start by pointing out her questionable choice of Orator. Have the Prophet print out every sleazy client you’ve represented before Hermione. A slight hint here and there, and everyone will be wondering whose side ... Mrs Riddle is truly on if she has you for an Orator.’
Jensen snorted. ‘Please do use my … “questionable” reputation. It’s on record Ms Granger used to use holier than thou Orator Wolsby-Anderson for all her legal matters. A slight hint here and there, and everyone will wonder who really hired me and why this Ministry is attacking Ms … Granger instead of protecting her from me and my true client. All you’ll succeed in doing is establish how big a victim my client is. Ka-ching.’
‘Let’s all calm down,’ Rooney intervened. ‘There is no need to question each other’s reputations. We’re all professionals here, and again, I have to state that none of what you said, Orator Jensen, has any legal standing when it ends up in front of the Wizengamot.’
Jensen stretched out his legs and folded his hands on his belly. ‘First of all, I have already made several legal arguments that will hold up in front of the Wizengamot in favour of my client. Furthermore, it’s a common misconception of bad Orators that the law lives in a vacuum—that everyone has to obey by the rules in print and that’s just the way it is. The Wizengamot consists of people who interact with others in their daily lives and who are dependent on the support of others to maintain their seat on said Wizengamot. Whether or not you like it, the court of public opinion weighs into the decisions they make. No matter what McGregor thinks, I have a client who’s stuck between the most feared, crazy, dangerous, serial-killing dark wizard of all time and a large government organisation which failed to protect her. Public support will be on my client’s side, not yours.
‘This will ensure that all I have to do is supply the Wizengamot with one legal reason—one!—so they have an excuse to give a ruling in my client’s favour. I’ve got enough gross negligence on your end—backed by solid, factual paperwork to prove it—to give them that. I will win this case. Have no doubt about it. What you need to ask yourselves is how you want to lose. It can be a messy fight, which will inevitably lead to the fall of this Ministry, including the Minister for Magic and several, if not all, of its current department heads, or it can be dealt with quietly to the benefit of all those concerned. You’ve until noon tomorrow to reinstate my client as an active Unspeakable under the same contractual conditions and benefits as she had before, allow her free rein to visit her husband as she pleases and ensure you maintain her personal privacy with regards to her marital status.’
He rose from his seat, gesturing to his client to get up, too, which she thankfully did. ‘I’ll suggest you discuss this most generous offer with Minister Shacklebolt and the Head of the Auror Department, Harry Potter. I’m certain they’ll agree with me that Ms Granger is not the one to blame for any of this. Think about it carefully and be aware that this is my final offer. If I’ve not heard back from you before noon tomorrow, my next stop will be the Wizengamot’s administrative office. A pleasure,’ he nodded politely to the three at the table and placed his hand on Hermione’s back, leading her out.
They remained quiet throughout their entire walk in the Ministry’s corridors. However, once the lift was set in motion, he turned to the witch standing next to him.
‘You set me up,’ he accused.
A small smile curved her mouth as she faced him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said unapologetically.
‘You had no plans to resign.’
‘True,’ she acknowledged, nodding. ‘But I’ve always been curious if my job was of any importance to him and just how much so if that were the case. I just had no idea how to bring a lie this big convincingly myself. I tried to get a few small fibs past him, but he spotted all of them. So, I duly thank you for your assistance. It’s much appreciated, especially since I never gave you permission to discuss it with Tom. Such a blatant breach of client-Orator confidentiality …’ She shook her head whilst clicking with her tongue. ‘I believe it’s ground for disbarment, is it not?’ She turned away with a satisfied smile on her face.
She’s enjoying this, he thought, shocked. Merlin save me.
They were both playing with fire, the Dark Lord and this Muggle-born witch, and he somehow got stuck in the middle of what would be a blazing inferno. They’d fry him to a crisp. He now fully understood what the Dark Lord saw in this witch, why he’d married this one despite her blood status. The Dark Lord had always had a penchant for things that could get you burned and Hermione Granger was a backdraft explosion waiting to happen. Jensen wanted to be far, far away from the both of them when that occurred.
‘So Tom has “serious mental health issues”, ’ Hermione quoted in amusement. ‘You must have been in Gryffindor to have the nerve to say that out loud.’
‘As an Orator I sometimes have to twist things around to fit the views of the opposite side in order to win,’ Jensen said smoothly.
‘Ah, slippery,’ Hermione said, ‘I stand corrected: Slytherin then.’
‘Actually, I was in Hufflepuff, but that’s beside the point; I voice the things that will lead to victory, not my opinions.’
‘And you believe that what you did here tonight will be enough to get that victory without it turning into a complete spectacle?’
‘Would that be a problem for you?’ Jensen inquired, taking in his client meticulously.
‘I already said when I hired you that you could do whatever it takes, so that’s a “no”. However, I can’t say I’m looking forward to the kind of media attention and personal hoo-hah it will bring me,’ Hermione replied seriously. ‘So, do you think they will take your offer?’
‘I’d be extremely surprised if they didn’t,’ Jensen answered, relieved he had free rein if need be. ‘Their own careers are on the line, too. McGregor might be willing to take the chance, but I know Rooney; she always travels in the middle of the road, never diverting from the safest course ahead. It makes her a responsible administrator, but not the best of Orators. Hence, why she chose another career path after graduation. Also, I happen to know that she can’t afford to lose her job—not with her family’s current financial position. No, I’m pretty sure we’ve got this in the bag.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘Yes,’ Jensen said, pausing for a moment before continuing warningly, ‘Of course, you’ve got to realise that getting your job back doesn’t mean they can’t make your life miserable once they’ve reinstated you in said job.’
‘I’m aware of that, but I’m not too worried about it. I’ve handled worse situations than whatever they can throw at me.’
‘I’m sure.’
The lift came to an abrupt halt. Before the doors opened, Hermione held out her hand to him. ‘Thank you, Orator Jensen.’
‘Don’t thank me yet.’
‘Okay, I won’t,’ Hermione said, smiling. ‘Instead, I’ll wish you the best of luck on your trip to Azkaban. Say “hi” to my husband from me.’ With that, she winked at him and walked out the lift, leaving him standing utterly pale.
Merlin, be Muggled.
Even though Jensen knew it had to be done, the last thing he wanted to do tonight was inform the Dark Lord that he had made him reveal a significant part of his deck. Jensen would rather pull the teeth of a Norwegian Ridgeback; that would be far less hazardous to his health for sure.

xxx
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The Prisoner