The Replenishment Decree

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open and she barely suppressed a startled gasp seeing two big, twinkling elf eyes staring back at her.

“Hermione Granger,” Pepper whispered, “Pepper is sorry but there’s a guest downstairs. Hogwarts Headmistress Professor Minerva McGonagall is in the sitting room.”

“Okay,” Hermione whispered back, “let’s let Narcissa sleep a little longer, though, all right?”

Pepper nodded solemnly and tugged an unused pillow from the top of the bed to slide into Narcissa’s arms as Hermione carefully extracted herself.

Once up, Hermione quickly redressed and headed downstairs to meet with her favorite professor.

She entered the formal sitting room to find the Headmistress pacing in front of the fireplace.

“Oh, Miss Granger,” Minerva cried, “I was so relieved to get your owl. Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“I take it you haven’t seen the papers today?”

“No, I’ve perhaps been avoiding them a bit.”

Hermione sat on the loveseat and gestured to the chair nearby inviting Minerva to join her. Once both women were seated, Hermione began, “I think, before we get into all of the reasons for that, I’d like to discuss the reason I wrote you and my options for working with the Hogwarts Professors this year.”

Nodding along, the professor agreed it was a good place to start, “I’ve never heard of a Hogwarts student not actually attending Hogwarts, Miss Granger, I’m not sure how this would work.”

“Narcissa and I were discussing this and she pointed out that I’ve always been academically ahead of my peers. Even with the last year spent outside the classroom, I’d be so separated from any other seventh years, being in class together would be challenging for all of us.”

“I can understand that but don’t you want to do seventh year work?”

“Not precisely. I want to take my NEWTs. I’m ready to do any work and research that would prepare me to do so but I’d like to do it at home...or here, as the case soon may be.”

“Here?”

“I’m sure you were caught slightly off-guard by being invited to Black Manor to meet with me but you certainly are aware that there’s a lot going on behind closed doors right now, yes?”

“Of course, Miss Granger, this latest Decree has all of us on edge. No one knows who’s going to be assigned next and if their spouse will be chosen as a punishment, a reward, or simply a partner!”

“Exactly. You are, yourself, presiding over a wedding tonight that’s intended to save Draco from his punishment.”

Minerva threw her hands into the air sputtering, “I’m appalled at the selection that was made for him. He’s only barely of age and they placed him with a sixty-something widow. And, of course, Dean could easily have married Mandy Brocklehurst, she’s a sweet girl, but he shouldn’t be forced to do so.”

“No one should be forced to marry anyone. The Ministry assigned me to marry Ron and, because of the false and misleading articles The Prophet’s been printing all summer, it looks as though the Ministry is rewarding us when, in fact, I am not dating nor have I ever dated Ronald Weasley.”

Shaking her head, Minerva asked Hermione what she intended to do.

“See for yourself,” Hermione smiled and reached for the morning edition of The Daily Prophet which was sitting nearby.

Minerva looked down at the paper and Hermione watched as her eyes widened comically.

“Is this true?”

“Every word,” Hermione said, looking McGonagall right in the eye knowing she wasn’t exactly being honest. “We’re going to be married on the Winter Solstice. We haven’t chosen a location or asked anyone to preside over the ceremony itself yet but we’re going to make those decisions tomorrow.”

“You’re choosing this? To marry Lucius Malfoy’s ex-wife?”

As she opened her mouth to answer, Hermione saw Pepper make her way into the room with a tea tray and instead spoke to the little elf to thank her for her thoughtfulness. Pepper, her back to Minerva, glanced at the staircase before making her way back out of the sitting room.

“First of all, if you knew what Narcissa has been through in her life and what she did to save my own, you wouldn’t describe her that way. She is her own, individual person. She should never be labeled as just someone’s spouse, current or otherwise. Second, I’m choosing, as you can read right there in our Engagement Announcement, of my own free will to marry Narcissa Black with good faith in her and with a deep certainty in my soul that our match is the right one.”

“For both of us,” Narcissa said from the doorway, smiling at her fiancée.

Reflexively, Hermione smiled back as she stood and held a hand out toward Narcissa, silently inviting the other woman to join her. As they sat together, hands entwined, Hermione said quietly, “I hope we didn’t wake you, you seemed very tired earlier. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Not much but don’t worry, dear, I’ll take another catnap before we dress this evening,” Narcissa said quietly to Hermione, smoothing the concerned brow in front of her before turning to Minerva and continuing, “she does worry so about me. It’s quite touching, really.”

Minerva regarded the pair in front of her, “I’d have never believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes but you two are quite the pair.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione blushed as she spoke.

“Tea, ladies?” Narcissa offered. “Please continue your conversation. Unless you’d rather do so in private? I can leave you to it.”

“Oh, no, Narcissa, please don’t. We were talking about NEWTs and then the topic shifted to the Decree and marriage assignments but we never really finished our original discussion. Stay, please, won’t you?” Hermione’s hand was gently grasping Narcissa’s forearm.

“Of course,” Narcissa murmured, glancing down briefly at Hermione’s lips, “anytime?”

Smirking, Hermione answered, “Any time at all,” and leaned forward to steal a quick kiss, only mildly uncomfortable doing so in front of her revered former teacher.

Narcissa had the good grace to blush furiously even as she grinned and poured three cups of tea.

Minerva let out a quick chuckle and smiled brightly at Narcissa, “You just reminded me quite strongly of a lovely third year I had some time ago who got a one hundred percent on her Transfiguration final exam. She smiled just like that.” When Narcissa looked up at Minerva, the Headmistress winked.

Hermione glanced back and forth between the two women realizing McGonagall had just accepted their relationship, it brought tears to her eyes.

“One sugar and a healthy pouring of milk, right?” Narcissa asked.

“Mmhmm, perfect,” Hermione accepted the teacup from her betrothed and waited while Narcissa and Minerva fixed their own cups before bringing the topic back to her education. “Professor McGonagall, it boils down to a few things. I’ve seen and done a lot in the past year and I can’t imagine feeling comfortable living in the Castle again right now. I’m going to be married in a few months and my future spouse and I wish to live together like any couple would. Also, I don’t technically need to be a Hogwarts student to take NEWTs; it would be nice and make things easier for me but it isn’t strictly necessary. I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to correspond with professors and meet at their convenience a few times a month but, if that isn’t possible, we’ll come up with a different solution.”

Minerva didn’t answer right away; she squinted her eyes and removed her spectacles, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She appeared to be thinking through a variety of responses as her eyes darted around. Finally, after five long minutes of silence, she offered, “Hermione, I’m concerned.” Before either of the other two women could start to argue, Minerva put a hand up to stop them. “I’m concerned about how we can make sure you get all the studying and guidance you need to excel on each of your examinations. I want you to graduate from Hogwarts, not just take your NEWTs and be done. You deserved so much to graduate at the top of your class. You worked so hard, Hermione. So hard. I want very badly for that to be recognized. I will acquiesce to your request. I will explain to every professor on your behalf what the expectations are for you and for them. I will grant you access to the prefect study areas and the entirety of the Hogwarts Library. You will come to Hogwarts one full day per week at least through October. You’re going to be listed as a Hogwarts student, still assigned to Gryffindor House for the year.”

Narcissa raised her eyebrows and looked at Hermione. The younger woman remained silent.

“Professor,” Narcissa interjected, “I believe it is possible to contact the Ministry’s Department of Educational Standards and request an appointment to take OWLs or NEWTs, isn’t it?”

“It used to be,” Minerva replied, “I don’t know, at this point, if that office is even staffed. There’s been a lot of loss.”

“Understandable, however, if that office is staffed and Hermione so chooses, would you be opposed to her taking some NEWTs earlier than others. If she felt able to take, say, Defense Against the Dark Arts next month, would you support that decision?”

“Hmm,” the professor frowned, thinking. “I suppose I would but I do request that you take a practice examination at Hogwarts before you schedule any NEWTs at the Ministry. It’s all well and good to feel prepared but let’s do everything we can to make sure you really are prepared.”

“Absolutely,” Hermione agreed again before thanking Narcissa for remembering to ask. “I’m not sure I understand the necessity of coming to the castle once a week, though.”

“Miss Granger,” McGonagall began, “your education thus far has followed a predictable and well-traveled route. You attend classes, receive instruction, practice, study, test, move on. I don’t doubt that you are a committed student who is capable of learning independently; I do, however, doubt your ability to stick to the topics at hand. I quite recall your penchant for turning in twenty-four foot scrolls when assigned twenty-four inches. I want you to meet with the professors once a week for the time being so we can all make sure you’re staying focused on what’s needed for NEWTs and not the entirety of the magical universe.”

A moment of silence followed, Hermione’s ears burning red.

“Funny, isn’t it?” Narcissa said quietly, pretending to speak only to Hermione but just loudly enough for Minerva to listen, “I had quite forgotten how stinging those backhanded compliments could be from McGonagall.”

Hermione giggled, appreciating Narcissa’s distraction from her embarrassment.

“It will likely have to be on Saturdays, though, if I’m to meet with everyone, as we have very limited time to plan our wedding and continue to work with everyone else on the...things.” Hermione had almost slipped and said rebellion.

“Things?”

“Yes. Things. Everything ready for tonight?” Hermione was terrible at keeping secrets, and it was the most painfully obvious subject change in history.

Narcissa uncharacteristically flopped back onto the loveseat and groaned.

Laughing, Hermione explained that they were a little surprised by Draco’s decision and were left mostly out of the planning. “As far as we know,” she said, “Draco and Dean have everything well in hand and we need only show up at the right time and not discuss it with anyone who doesn’t already know.”

“Yes, that’s my understanding as well. Also, I’m not to deviate in any way from the script they’ve given me. I don’t actually know what their precise goal is but I have a feeling they’ve done some research in the past few days...a lot of it...into Things.”

Narcissa agreed completely with Minerva.

“What will you do, Professor, when they assign you?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Ah, so those are the things of which you speak. Well, they wouldn’t dare,” she answered haughtily.

One eyebrow raised, Narcissa simply stared at her former teacher.

“You don’t think they would? I’m an old woman!”

“Not really,” Hermione hedged. “I mean you’re only in your sixties. Well within a witch’s childbearing years and certainly able to impregnate a younger woman.”

Narcissa smoothly turned her head to stare at her future wife. When Hermione looked back at her, Narcissa’s eyebrows raised.

“What?” Hermione asked. Narcissa merely continued staring.

“You seem to have thought about that before.”

“I may have had a small crush in my school days,” Hermione admitted, cheeks burning a bright red.

“Didn’t we all,” Narcissa confessed.

“Ladies! I’m sitting right here!” Minerva was aghast, and red-cheeked herself.

“Apologies, Professor, but my points stand. You’re hardly an old woman and you could still have children. You’ll have to find another excuse for the Ministry when they pair you up with Sybill Trelawny,” Hermione said with a smirk.

Minerva’s cheeks quickly went from red to white. “I, I could never, Sybill, goodness, no, can you imagine?”

Narcissa, joining her fiancée in teasing their former teacher, offered, “I don’t know, they say opposites attract. I mean look at us, Gryffindor and Slytherin, and we couldn’t be better together.”

Hermione forgot about the teasing for a moment and simply beamed at Narcissa reaching for the other woman’s hand, raising it to her lips, and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

Narcissa brushed the back of her hand softly down Hermione’s cheek, reveling in the kindness she was shown by the younger woman.

“In all honesty,” Narcissa spoke a moment later, “I don’t think they’ll assign you to Trelawney.”

“They better not!”

“What makes you say that, Narcissa?” Hermione asked.

Narcissa looked away for a moment, and then glanced back and forth between Hermione and their guest before answering. “I’ve been tracking all the couples who’ve been partnered. Doing a bit of research myself.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “Is that why you haven’t been sleeping? You’re spending all your time with me all day and staying up all night to look into this?”

“Sort of. I started it because I couldn’t sleep that first night the Decree came out and I wrote down all the pairs that were announced. Then I did the same thing the next day and when I did it again on Thursday I thought I was noticing patterns in the choices. So, of course, I couldn’t sleep because I was trying to figure it out.”

“Are there patterns?” Minerva asked, trusting Narcissa’s intellect.

“I think so but I can’t say for certain. I do believe that some pairs are selected based strictly on blood status. Anca Shafiq and Ezekial Prewett, obviously, and Daphne Greengrass and Torben Rowle. Four families in the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

“But so is the Black family and the Malfoy family, yet Draco was paired with Albert Runcorn’s widow? That doesn’t fit,” Hermione countered.

“It does fit the theory of punishments, though. I was assigned to re-wed Lucius. It wasn’t in the paper, they weren’t going to announce that because if anyone cared to look up the cause for the dissolution of our union they would be appalled at the Ministry putting me back in that situation. Hopefully. They would hopefully be appalled. Anyway, after you and I went in on Wednesday and demanded, or rather, asked politely to wed one another. Our request was approved. Yet, nothing was printed about it in The Prophet until we posted our own Announcement today. They did, however, announce that Draco was assigned to wed the Widow Runcorn yesterday. The same day The Quibbler released the news of our engagement.”

“So, the Ministry is punishing Draco for us defying their assignment?”

“I believe so. I bet Macmillan got in trouble for changing the register. Otherwise, why not assign Draco, who carries both Black and Malfoy blood, to one of the Greengrass sisters, Hannah Abbott, Pansy Parkinson, Milicent Bulstrode, or there’s probably a Travers descendant around your age, goodness knows they breed like rodents and they’ve only had girls in the past century.”

“Narcissa,” Hermione admonished.

“Sorry,” she shrugged, clearly not sorry at all. “I’m simply outlining my case. Someone working in that office is using these pairing as a punishment-reward system while also attempting some secondary eugenics.”

“Eugenics. As in designing this system to give our society the greatest chance of magical babies?” Hermione was trying to understand Narcissa’s thought process.

“Eugenics as in experimenting with procreation to assess the levels of magic found in children produced by pure-blood, half-blood, and muggle-born witches and wizards.”

“That’s a hefty accusation to throw around, Miss Black,” Professor McGonagall said quietly.

“If you saw the pairs they’ve made and the family trees behind them, I think you’d agree with me. Eugenics holds true for most. The exceptions being Hermione and Ron and now Hermione and myself, Draco and Margaret Runcorn, and Gregory Goyle and Rebecca Thicknesse. Those last two might still follow the eugenics angle, though, I’m not sure yet. I haven’t been able to find enough family information about Margaret or Rebecca to determine their actual blood-status.”

“Ugh,” Hermione grunted, “Just get them to go to the Ministry with you. When they weigh their wands you’ll get every detail of their lives, remember?”

“Oh, that was so disturbing,” Narcissa looked darkly into her teacup.

Minerva tilted her head, staring at Hermione. “What are you talking about?”

“Have you gone to the MInistry lately?”

Minerva shook her head in the negative. Hermione recounted the scene at the security desk where the witch who was working that day weighed their wands and knew when and where they were purchased, every detail about the wand’s properties, and the blood-status of the wand owner.

“That has to have been implemented when Voldemort was running the show. He was absolutely obsessed with the Elder wand and that translated into a general obsession with wands for a lot of his regime,” Minerva speculated.

“That makes perfect sense,” Narcissa agreed, “Voldemort was completely obsessed with wands while he was at Malfoy Manor. He took Lucius’ wand to go after Harry one night but I think it backfired on him. I’m not sure, I heard the yelling through my door but it sounded like he was blaming Lucius for the wand's improper behavior. That’s a…” she trailed off.

Hermione wrapped her arm loosely around Narcissa’s waist, offering what support she could.

“That’s all I remember from that night. It goes dark after that. The next thing I remember is no longer having a wand myself. And sitting at the dining table. And a lot of death. And fear. And blood.”

“The night Voldemort took Lucius’ wand, as far as we can tell from the different tellings of the story,” Hermione said quietly to Narcissa, rubbing her back, “has come to be known as The Battle of The Seven Potters. Six of us took Polyjuice Potion to look like Harry and we all, along with Harry himself, flew away from his house at the same time each with a different member of the Order of The Phoenix, I was with Kingsley, Harry with Hagrid, Ron with Tonks, um, George with Lupin, Fred with Mr. Weasley, Fleur and Bill were together, and Mundungus Fletcher and Alastor Moody. The Death Eaters were ready for us, though, and as soon as we breached the shielding barrier they were there cursing and hexing us out of the sky. Alastor Moody was killed that night and Harry’s owl, Hedwig, died saving his life.”

“How did Lucius’ wand fail?”

“The Death Eaters discovered which was the real Harry because he couldn’t hurt Stan Shunpike.”

Minerva nearly spit out her tea. “I’m sorry, what did you say? Harry almost died and the entire war was almost lost because he couldn’t hurt Stan Shunpike?”

Hermione took a deep breath to explain. “The way Voldemort found Harry that night was the same way that Harry saved his own life at The Battle of Hogwarts. He just doesn’t want to hurt people. He always chooses to disarm rather than injure. Harry and Hagrid were flying in Sirius’ motorbike and Stan Shunpike was one of the Death Eaters on their trail. Harry, with an opportunity to hit Stan with any spell in his arsenal, chose Expelliarmus because he believed Stan was under the Imperius Curse and refused to be responsible for Stan falling off a broom in midair. Another Death Eater who was nearby realized that only Harry would use that spell - and be that devastated at the death of his owl - and summoned Voldemort to them. When Voldemort appeared, Harry says his wand spun in his hand and shot golden fire at Voldemort destroying Lucius’ wand just before they passed through a magical barrier preventing Voldemort from following.”

“Oh, Merlin’s pants,” Minerva said, “that boy and his heart of gold.”

Hermione shrugged, “Harry’s heart of gold saved him at the final battle.”

“Who has he been assigned?” Minerva asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from such dark times.

“Padma Patil, both of her parents are magical but one of them is a muggle-born, exactly like Harry,” Narcissa answered.

“And Mandy Brocklehurst?”

“Half-blood. Just like Dean.”

“You really have done your research, Miss Black,” Minerva was impressed.

“It’s disturbing,” Narcissa explained. “They’re experimenting with eugenics and taking away our free will under the guise of replenishing the magical population and too many magical families are just blindly following along.”

“I really am the outlier. First I was assigned to Ron, a pureblood, and then re-assigned to you, also a pureblood.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way Hermione but, neither Mr. Weasley nor myself are just purebloods. We are both the result of a merging of two members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I, myself, am a little confused as to why we’ve been allowed to wed. Except, they’re a little afraid to push back too hard against your popularity right now.”

“You know, I’ve heard you mention this Sacred Twenty-Eight a few times now but I still don’t really know what it means.”

“Oh, it’s said that the Sacred Twenty-Eight are the only British wizarding families left who are truly pure-blood. I think it came about in the 1930’s,” Narcissa rolled her eyes.

Pepper reappeared just then to check on their tea and ask if anyone was interested in lunch.

“Bless you but I should be getting back to the castle about now. Merlin knows the first weekend of the term is always filled with mischief. Thank you for the tea. I shall see you this evening, ladies.” Minerva stood and was accompanied to the door by both women.

As Narcissa reached for the handle, it turned and Draco pushed it open.

“Oh! Headmistress! Perfect timing! Everything set for tonight?” He and Dean walked in, each holding a garment bag from Madam Malkin’s draped over one arm.

“All set, Draco, Dean,” she nodded.

“Brilliant,” Dean smiled, nodding, “And just fair warning, you’re about to get a large influx of owls from students who either didn’t attend their seventh year last year or feel that it wasn’t up to regular Hogwarts standards. They’re all going to request to attend this year and repeat seventh year.”

Minerva paled, “I don’t know that we have that kind of room right now. How many students?”

“About sixty far as we can tell. Maybe more once word gets out. Want to join, Hermione?” Dean grinned.

“No, thanks,” she smiled back, “I’ve got my own plan going but thanks for the invite. Sounds like a good time.”

“Anything else you’d like to warn me about while I’m here?” Minerva asked sternly.

Draco and Dean glanced at one another. Draco spoke up, “I actually think we should warn you that you’re also about to get an influx of requests for Apprenticeships. Though everyone understands you can’t say yes to them all, they’re hoping you’ll include as many as possible in as many different positions as possible this year, including a whole host of people who would like Apprenticeships with, um, Mr. Filch as caretaker and Hagrid as Groundskeeper. Between us, Professor,” Draco said quietly, “they know there are few opportunities to avoid a forced marriage and immediate pregnancy and school is one of them.”

“I see. The Rebellion outlives the war, then. Seems I shall spend tomorrow answering a lot of post. Will you two be back?”

“No, I’m attending Wizarding Law School right now actually,” Draco said.

“And I have a job as a statistician with the Holyhead Harpies,” Dean grinned.

Nodding in understanding, Minerva stepped outside and bid farewell, reminding everyone not to be late to Hogsmeade later.

“Let’s have some lunch and then Hermione and I have plans before this evening,” Narcissa commanded.

The whole group agreed and made their way to the kitchen to find that Pepper and Filly had prepared a light spread for them already. They kept their conversation as light as the finger-foods and were laughing with one another quickly, sharing stories of their time at Hogwarts.

As lunch wrapped up, Narcissa covered yet another yawn and looked at Hermione questioningly. “Well, gentlemen, I assume you have some things to go over before tonight’s festivities. Narcissa and I are going to go finalize our outfits and take care of some things. We’ll see you later in Hogsmeade, okay? Oh, Draco, I sent an owl to Luna inviting her for dinner tonight. I don’t know if she’ll show up. I told her I’d be there and to meet me if she wanted to.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Draco smiled, “See you both later.” He and Dean stayed seated at the kitchen table as the women went up the back stairs to the second floor.

Winding through a back hallway and then a hidden doorway Hermione bemoaned the fact that she would never be able to find her way from the kitchen right to Narcissa’s rooms by herself.

“Of course, you will, dear, it just takes practice,” Narcissa reached back for Hermione’s hand as they walked. “See, here we are.”

“How? How did that even make sense? We weren’t even in the correct wing of the Manor!”

Laughing and opening the door, Narcissa answered simply, “magic. If Hogwarts can have moving staircases, Black Manor can have moving doorways.”

“We came back up here for a nap, right? Because I am so tired today,” Hermione admitted, flopping face down on the bed.

“Yes. I have a feeling tonight's going to turn into a big party and we are going to want to be well rested. Do you think you can transfigure some trousers into those clothes of yours from the other day? I was so comfortable.”

“Sure, just give me the trousers,” Hermione stood up and pulled out her wand.

Once the transfiguration was complete the women changed into the sweatpants and sleepshirts from earlier and happily climbed right back onto the bed.

As quickly as sleep claimed them earlier, however, it was eluding them now.

“Hermione?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think this is moving too fast?”

“That’s a loaded question to drop at naptime, Narcissa,” Hermione paused, sorting her thoughts. “Yes and no. It’s moving faster than either of us would have ever expected or previously been comfortable with but I don’t think you’re pushing or forcing anything and I hope you don’t feel that I am. I feel safe with you. We’re getting married in a few months. We’re using this time to make sure we’re compatible. If other people knew our actual timeline they’d think it was too fast but here? From the inside? I feel pretty good right now. You?”

“It’s going to sound crazy.”

“Good, hit me with the crazy,” Hermione teased, hugging the woman in her arms.

“We work well together and I wish we had had time to romance each other because I think this actually could have happened organically and I think...damn the Ministry for taking that away from us.”

"We have more than three months to the date of our wedding, darling. Let's not let the Ministry's machinations take away the romance we could have built with one another."

Narcissa yawned deeply and said sleepily, "I want to buy you flowers."

“Daffodils are my favorite.”

And sleep fell upon them once more.