The Dragon Chronicles | By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 55728 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make money from this. |
Hello, hello, helloooo. So much stuff going on now, you see, I’M GONNA BE A PUPPY-MOMMY! The little puppy is coming in May so I’m busy writing on my book as much as possible so I can still meet the deadline in July.
Also, I have been on a FREAKING GALA! Got to go to Stockholm, go on a gala and meet some of the best authors in Sweden. How cool is my life right now?! Well, despite the chronical pain and stuff, but who cares when you get to GO ON A BOOK AWARD GALA???
Sooo I’m sorry that I’m behind on my review responds again. I will do my best to catch up again, but I prioritise getting the chapters up and running. Thankfully I got reverseuniverse helping me with the beta!
Enjoy!
Chapter 24
Ever since speaking with Ginny about finding a photo of young Tom Riddle, Hermione had tried to do so without Voldemort noticing. However, it wasn’t as easy as she had hoped. There hadn’t been any photos of Prefects neatly organised from that time. Instead, she was now going through the Hogwarts archives which were in a horridly unorganised state. She could be going through a box that was marked 1935 and find a study plan from 1873 because the teacher from that time had retired in 1935 and just dumped all his material in the same box.
It wasn’t like she had an endless amount of time to go through the boxes either. She still had her work to do and, more often than not, unplanned issues would pop up that she had to deal with.
For examples, due to the new anti-abortion law Hermione, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey decided to start the sexual education class first thing after the Christmas holidays. Just planning the class had taken several late nights’ work.
Third years and upwards would attend the course and it would cover everything from what happened in the body during puberty, to how children were made, to how to protect yourself from unwanted pregnancy, and sexual transmitted diseases.
It gave Hermione a month to come up with a good way to inform her husband that this was happening and make sure that he would not stand in the way.
Alas, you could never trust a teenager to keep it in their pants. A week before the Christmas holidays, Hermione was summoned to a meeting with Madam Pomfrey, Professor Sprout, and two students: a fifth year Hufflepuff girl named Annie Jarl and a sixth year Slytherin boy called Simon Finnick.
The girl’s eyes were red-shot and puffy, and the boy was looking very pale. Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey looked far from happy and Hermione immediately knew what was going on.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered, crossing her arms as she frowned down at the students. “How far along are you?”
“T-two months,” the girl stuttered and then started crying again.
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. “Bloody hell.”
“Are you certain there are no ways to get an exception?” Professor Sprout asked, putting an arm around the girl.
Hermione looked at the boy. “What’s your blood status?”
“I’m pureblood,” Simon whispered. “Annie is half-blood.”
“Then no,” Hermione muttered. “The law has been designed to hurt us that aren’t pureblood and they would happily imprison Miss Jarl if she got an abortion as well as firing the rest of us for helping her. Does anyone else knows?”
Both Annie and Simon shook their heads.
Hermione contemplated it. “Then the safest thing I can come up with is one of you begging your parents to raise their grandchild while the two of you finish your education. Maybe even pass it off as their own if they are young enough.”
“My dad is alone with my five year old twin brothers,” Annie whimpered. “They put my mother in prison for being a Muggle-born a year ago.”
“What about your parents?” Hermione asked Simon.
“My dad died a year ago,” Simon said, shaky. “My mum hasn’t been … well since then.”
He seemed to be fighting his tears. This was just great. Hermione would loathe to see a young woman’s life ruined just because of a stupid, misogynistic law.
“Do you think your dad would be able to take on another child?” Hermione asked Annie.
“I don’t know,” Annie whispered. “He works at the Ministry but he doesn’t earn a lot.”
Hermione thought about it. The best would probably be for Annie’s parents to take care of the child, but it would be hard while her mother was in prison. But perhaps she could convince Voldemort to pardon the mother to house arrest or something? It was still not fair, but she imagined it would be a lot better to be home with your children and husband than to waste away in Azkaban.
“Don’t tell anyone else about this,” Hermione told them all. “I’ll see if I can find some help.”
As she strode to exit the door, Professor Sprout followed her.
“Hermione,” she said in a low voice once they were out of the room. “There are several herbs that would cause a miscarriage. The girl will be sick, but perhaps it’s better than the alternative?”
Hermione thought about it. If she talked to Voldemort, then there would be no way for Annie to get a miscarriage without him investigating why. That would make him fire Professor Sprout and punish Annie at the very least.
But maybe he wouldn’t notice if one girl at school was suddenly sick? Annie wasn’t like Ginny, he had no interest in what was going on with her. He probably didn’t even know she existed.
Then again, if Hermione could use the situation to free an innocent woman from prison, maybe Annie would prefer that?
“Let me talk with Annie, privately,” Hermione said. It should be Annie’s decision. Hermione couldn’t promise anything, after all.
Professor Sprout went to get Annie, and Hermione stepped into the nearest empty classroom, casting a spell so they wouldn’t be overheard.
“As I see it, there are two possible ways to do this,” Hermione told the girl who was just a few years younger than herself. “Miscarriages are not uncommon and there are certain things you could eat that could possibly make it happen. It’s not fool-proof, though. It will be painful and if someone finds out that you are pregnant they could point fingers at you when you are suddenly sick for a couple of days.”
“I don’t think anyone knows,” Annie said in a low voice. “But all the girls in my dorm know that I slept with Simon.”
Hermione sighed. She had feared as much.
“Have you experienced any morning sickness yet?”
“Just the past week, that’s how I found out I was pregnant. But the other girls just think I ate something bad,” Annie explained.
Hermione grimaced. She didn’t like the odds of no one figuring out the truth. Student gossiped like crazy and it didn’t take a genius to figure out the truth.
“The other option is just as uncertain,” she said. “You said your mother is in Azkaban? Are you sure she is still alive and sane?”
Annie nodded quickly. “Dad gets to visit her sometimes. He was there just two weeks ago and he wrote to me and said that she had said hi and that she was proud that I had got so good marks on my Potions test last month. That means she is sane, right?”
Hermione wouldn’t count on it. It could be one of those things her father was waiting to tell his daughter face to face. Hopefully it was true.
“I could try getting your mother’s sentence changed so she can raise your child together with your father. She wouldn’t be able to work, and will probably be shunned by a lot of wizards, but she could possibly be at home.”
Annie’s eyes grew wide. “You think you can do that?”
Hermione grimaced. “Maybe. But just once, for you and your child. You can’t tell anyone about this because I don’t think it would work twice if someone else would get the idea to get themselves pregnant just to release their parents from Azkaban.”
Annie nodded feverently. “I won’t tell anyone. Mum would agree to do it, I know she would. She was mostly working from home before anyway, because she wanted to raise the twins and me herself.”
“But if I were to ask for this, then there is no way you can suffer a miscarriage intentionally,” Hermione warned. “I’d have to tell them about your condition, so they will keep a close eye on you to make sure you don’t do anything that could jeopardise it, even if they don’t agree to let your mother go.”
Annie started to chew on the nail of her index finger. By the state of her other nails, this was an old habit of hers. “If there is even a small chance that Mum could be released then I have to try. Timothy and Jack ask about her all the time. They are too young to understand about Azkaban.”
Hermione sighed. “You are a good girl, Miss Jarl. Like I said, I can’t promise this will work, but I will do my outmost.”
To her great surprise, Annie jumped towards her and hugged her hard.
Hermione had never experienced a younger student hugging her when she had been a Prefect and tried to help them, and was quite shocked by the action. She awkwardly patted the younger girl’s back.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I know if it’s possible or not,” Hermione said when Annie finally released her. “In the meantime, don’t tell anyone.”
Annie promised and Hermione went back to her office, deciding to get to business. She didn’t want to have Annie wait too long for an answer. Hermione realised it must be hell to have a parent in prison, but living in the limbo of not knowing if they would get out or not was even worse. It was better to know for certain.
Unfortunately, when Hermione came back up to her chambers, Voldemort wasn’t there.
Kara? she sent a mental message.
Yes? Kara answered and Hermione sensed that he was out flying over the Forbidden Forest, playing with the wind.
Do you know if Elva is still there? Hermione asked. If Elva was missing, that meant Voldemort had went to his herd and then he could be gone for days. If she was still there, however, that meant Voldemort would be back later.
No, she flew away with the water-dung-bag this morning, Kara answered.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Kara seemed to use his ever growing vocabulary to come up with new nicknames for Voldemort. Her favourite was wingless-poop-head.
It struck her then that Voldemort wasn’t the one directly in charge of this anti-abortion nonsense. He had put someone else in charge. Someone Hermione had a lot more leverage over.
Smiling evilly, Hermione went to her fireplace and threw in some Floo powder. “Ministry of Magic!”
Stepping out from the Floo, she came straight into the big greeting hall of the Ministry. The first thing she saw was the terrible statue of “Magic is Might” with a wizard and witch stepping on other creatures to show their glory.
Shaking her head at the nonsense, she made her way over to the information desk where three witches stood in blue robes, helping others find their way.
She was aware that people took a double look when they saw her, staring with wide eyes. The Death Eaters who were positioned as security guards were all looking at her too, but none made any moves to come over to her and ask what she was doing there without their precious master.
“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, how can I help you?” the blond witch behind the desk asked on routine when Hermione reached it.
“Hello, I’m here to see Dolores Umbridge,” Hermione said coolly. “Where can I find her?”
“Do you have an appointment?” the witch asked.
“She will make time for me,” Hermione informed the witch.
Now the witch actually bothered to look at her properly, Hermione could see her eyes widen like all the others when she recognised her.
“She is on the first floor,” the witch said, her voice a bit more strained. “Continue down the corridor from the elevator and it’s the first office to your left.”
“Thank you,” Hermione said, turning around for the lifts.
Behind her, she could hear the witches starting to whisper. Even though she couldn’t make out the words, she was surprised to note that they did so with a hint of fear in their voices.
That was to be expected, she guessed. Being the wife of the Dark Lord was something most sane witches only had nightmares about.
Following the directions and ignoring all the stares, Hermione finally reached the top floor where the most important (and most evil) people sat. Turning to her left, she was standing next to another desk with a small golden plaque with “Secretary P. Parkinson” was written in italics.
“You,” the person behind the desk whispered in surprise.
Hermione looked straight back at another one of her school nemeses, Pansy Parkinson.
“Hello Pansy,” she said coldly. A year ago, she would probably have been nervous to see someone who had tormented her throughout her six years of school. But now she just pitied the one who had to work as Umbridge’s secretary.
“What are you doing here?” Parkinson asked, mouth open in shock.
“Clearly I’m here to see Umbridge. Can you let her know that I’m here?” Hermione asked.
Parkinson stared at her for a few more seconds before quickly getting off her seat and darting through the door behind her.
“But I have no more appointments today,” Hermione heard Umbridge scowl. “Who is it?”
Parkinson must have said her name in a low voice, because next thing Hermione heard was Umbridge telling Parkinson to let her in.
“You can see her now,” Parkinson mumbled when she came back out to Hermione, holding the door open for her.
“Thank you,” Hermione said coolly, stepping into the office, making sure Pansy closed the door properly before turning to Umbridge.
Umbridge was staring at her with the most fake smile Hermione had ever seen plastered over her face while her left eye twitched. It she didn’t know better, she would have been worried that Umbridge was about to have a seizure.
“Headmistress Granger,” Umbridge said, raising from her seat. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Hermione snorted. After being treated like a second class citizen for so many years just because she was Muggleborn, it was bizarre to be treated almost like royalty. How times changed.
“I’m here about the abortion law. Or rather, of the hassle it creates for the school,” Hermione began, sitting down in the chair in front of the desk, even though Umbridge hadn’t offered it to her. “One of my students is pregnant, but she still has a few more years left at Hogwarts. Therefore, I’m here to make sure that she and the father complete their education while their child is taken care of.”
Umbridge was still wearing that fake smile. “Why, I’m sad to hear that the discipline of Hogwarts has deteriorated. I don’t recall any students getting pregnant while I was Headmistress.”
Hermione scoffed. “That’s because it was still legal for them to have abortions back then. The school nurse took care of that after the wishes of the students, and therefore you never even heard of it. At least I don’t have any problems with Umbridge-sickness.”
Umbridge’s left eye twitched harder. “Regardless, I don’t see why this would be my problem. If the mother is so foolish as to get pregnant, then she should have to deal with it herself.”
“Ah, but you see, there is a law that says that all students under seventeen has to come to Hogwarts. Are you really suggesting that I have students break the law?” Hermione asked.
Umbridge’s fake smile diminished slightly. “Ah, of course not. What do you suggest, then?”
“The father’s parents are not in the picture,” Hermione started. “But I was hoping to let the mother’s parents raise the child the first few years.”
“Well, that is for the parents to decide, I don’t see what I have to do with that,” Umbridge said, and now she looked genuinely pleased. She must be expecting Hermione to ask her for some sort of favour.
Hermione smiled. She wasn’t here to ask for favours, she was here to blackmail. “Yes, I’m certain they would agree to help. However, the mother has spent the last year in Azkaban because she is a Muggleborn.”
“Oh,” Umbridge said, looking very pleased. “Oh, I see. You want me to let a criminal go free just because her daughter is a fool?”
“That’s exactly what I want,” Hermione said, smiling sweetly as well.
“I’m afraid that will be most difficult,” Umbridge said, her voice full of faked regret. “What kind of example would that set? No, I’m afraid that will just not do.”
Hermione let out a cold laugh. “Oh, my dear Dolores, you misunderstand me. I’m not asking you for a favour. You do remember whom you are talking to, I hope? I’m sad to inform you that the Dark Lord was most … unhappy when he found out about the centaur incidence. Yes, I’m afraid he started to question if you really are the right person for this job. I can only imagine what he would think if he finds out what else happened during your failed attempt to lead Hogwarts. Multiple sick students, constant distractions in class, the ghosts running amok… if you can’t control some pesky students, then how would you be able to keep your department in control?”
Umbridge was sitting stiffly, no longer smiling. “That was hardly my fault … you and your friends were the cause of that.”
Hermione snorted. “Yes, I do intend to tell my husband all about how a gang of fourteen and fifteen year olds managed to best you in every way. I’m certain he will be forgiving about that.”
“But what would he say if he finds out his wife is trying to get Mudbloods out of Azkaban?” Umbridge tried to counter.
Hermione chuckled. “I doubt he would care about one Mudblood who was on house arrest taking care of a baby instead of at Azkaban. I mean, not when he hears about your vast incompetence.”
Umbridge’s left eye was twitching a lot now. Hermione held her gaze, not even blinking. She would not back down from this.
Finally, Umbridge scowled and reached into her drawer, taking up a scroll. “Fine. Who is this Mudblood?”
“Mrs Patricia Jarl,” Hermione said, rising from her seat. “Oh, and if something were to happen to Mrs Jarl, I will be most unhappy. And when I’m unhappy, my husband is. I hope you understand?”
“Perfectly, Headmistress,” Umbridge growled through clenched teeth.
“Excellent. I look forward to seeing your owl of Mrs Jarl safe homecoming.”
Smiling, Hermione left the office. At least that was one thing that went her way. She couldn’t wait to tell Annie. One happy family in a sea of despair was still a victory. And if Umbridge were to nag to a few about how the Dark Lord let his wife get away with releasing prisoners from Azkaban, well, that also worked.
She was so caught up in her victory that she didn’t notice that the corridor down to the lifts was strangely deserted. Before, there had been people rushing back and forth, but now, it seemed like everyone had just vanished.
What she did notice, however, was when the first spell was cast.
She could feel the magic approaching and so she managed to jump to her side, withdrawing her wand as she turned around to face her opponent. An angry looking man was standing in the door to what seemed to be a small storage room, his wand raised.
Hermione quickly cast a spell back, knocking him unconscious. But just as she did, she was hit in the back too and the last thing she saw was the angry man falling to the ground before she did so as well.
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