The Replenishment Decree

Hand in hand, Narcissa and Hermione made their way down to the pond behind the cottage. They could see Minerva and Winky sitting together on a bench, having a chat and, as they drew closer, overheard what Winky was saying.

“Professor, they house elves are happy with the terms. They like the money they make. Sometimes they want a different cupboard. And maybe a different shirt. But the money is good.”

“Alright, Winky, I’ll leave it to you then to come up with a housing arrangement that works for everyone. Just let me know how you’re expanding the castle so I know where everyone will be. I have no problem allowing for variation in the Hogwarts House Elf uniforms. Do you have some ideas?”

Hermione was so happy with what she heard she thought she might burst and she squeezed the hand in hers almost painfully.

“Yes, I do. The kitchen House Elf needs to wear kitchen clothes.”

“You mean an apron? Or a chef’s jacket and toque?”

Winky was quiet for a moment and looked over at Hermione and Narcissa as they sat on the bench next to theirs. She tugged on her little ear, a nervous habit.

“Go ahead, Winky. What do you think?”

“Professor, did you know that Tatum and Brodie had hurts last week?”

“Tatum and Brodie? From the Hogwarts kitchens?”

Winky nodde.

“No, Winky,” McGonagall said, concerned, “I didn’t know. What happened? Are they alright?”

“They were making pudding for the Feast on the first day of school and burned their arms holding the pot to pour the boiled water. It happens every time we make pudding. We have little arms and there’s too many elves in the kitchens to use our magics carefully.”

Minerva pressed a hand to her sternum and gasped. “Winky, are you telling me that for hundreds of years elves have been injuring themselves to cook at Hogwarts and no one has ever helped you?”

“Um. I think so?”

Hermione turned away from Winky and McGonagall to press her forehead against Narcissa’s shoulder. She whispered, “I wanted to stop exactly this from happening.”

“Chef’s jackets. Pants. Shoes. More room in the kitchens. Smaller utensils and tools so the House Elves can safely hold them without injury. Ovens, stoves, and sinks at an appropriate height for House Elves. Winky, I want to know about Elf injuries from now on. I’ll be checking on Tatum and Brodie this evening to make certain they’ve healed from the burns. Anything elves need to wear for safety, let’s make available as part of their Hogwarts House Elf uniform. Any elves who go into the Forbidden Forest should have shoes, for example. Elves who help Hagrid with magical creatures should have gloves. Elves who go out in winter to clear snow and ice should have boots and hats. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Professor,” Winky smiled, “black and white for castle elves. House color for elves who do the House dormitories?”

“A solid plan,” McGonagall smiled back.

“Winky will go and write it all down now. It will be in the Headmistress office at Hogwarts when you get back,” the little elf hopped down from the bench and waved goodbye to the three witches before she popped out of sight to do her work.

Hermione, grinning, asked, “Winky is the Hogwarts House Elf representative?”

“She is,” Minerva smiled, “even though she often chooses to sleep here at the cottage rather than the castle. None of the other elves seem to mind. It’s a big job she’s doing and she takes it rather seriously.”

“Can I ask when this started?”

The Headmistress nodded and spoke, “I assume you know they joined us in the Battle of Hogwarts? Kreature led them up from the kitchens and they were actually rather helpful. No one, it seems, knows Hogwarts better than a House Elf. After that, I couldn’t just let them fade back into the anonymity of invisible servitude. They deserve more. Though, it hasn’t been an easy go.”

“No,” Narcissa joined, “I know it seems counterintuitive to humans but House Elves really don’t have any idea of their own value.”

“And yet Hogwarts School couldn’t function without them!”

“You’re right, Hermione, and that’s exactly what I told them. I also said that in the next few years there would be legislation passed that required everyone to prove that they were treating their House Elves, Garden Gnomes, and other magical creatures with respect and dignity. I told them they would be helping set an example for the whole magical world of Britain if they would let Hogwarts pay them. Some elves completely agreed but drew the line at getting clean clothes. Some refuse the money and so it goes into a communal account for any elves who won’t take a paycheck in case they ever need money.”

“So, how are you going to get them to wear the kitchen uniform if they refused clean clothes.”

“Oh, that was the easiest to deal with. We just explained that part of the being treated with respect meant being given a uniform to represent the place they live and work. So far, that uniform has mostly been a clean potato sack which is not quite what I envisioned.”

“You think they’ll go from wearing a clean potato sack to a full chef’s jacket and pants?” Narcissa laughed.

“I’m sure there will be some resistance but I can’t have them getting injured any more, that’s horrid!” Minerva was aghast.

“I hate to say this because I want all creatures to be free but, if you tell them the uniform isn’t theirs to keep but it belongs to the school and they simply are required to wear it, they will,” Hermione offered. “Have Winky explain it to them in a way that makes it sound like a demand rather than something for them.”

Narcissa wrapped an arm around Hermione’s slumped shoulders, “Darling, I know you want to free every elf in the land right this second, but that goal starts this way. First, we have to treat them as though they have value then we can convince them to also believe it. When they realize they’re no longer getting injured while cooking, they’ll appreciate the jackets and pants. Then they’ll come to see them as their own. Give it time. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“I know,” Hermione agreed, looking out over the pond, “I just hate tricking them.”

“We’re not tricking them. We’re caring for them when they won’t care for themselves.”

“Narcissa’s right, Hermione. Did Harry and Ron always make good choices at Hogwarts? Or last year while you were on the run?”

Hermione snickered and shook her head.

“Did you sometimes have to force them to do their homework, study for a test, get some sleep?”

“Of course.”

“Were you just bossing them around because you wanted to or were you caring for them in the best way you could at the time?”

“I was caring for them in the best way I could,” Hermione answered quietly. “Thank you, Professor.”

Minerva poured three cups of tea from the tea service sitting on the table next to her and handed one to Narcissa and Hermione. The three sat in peaceful quietude, enjoying the warm, sunny morning and birdsong above them.

“Well, Hermione,” Minerva broke the silence, “I’m sure you were pleased to hear from the Hogwarts faculty last night.”

“Oh, Professor McGonagall, I had no intention of having that conversation last night. I know you wanted to speak to them first.”

“It’s no matter now, dear. You’re right, I wanted to discuss it as a full faculty but, seeing as we’ll have two other rather large discussions on our agenda today, it’s just as well.”

Hermione slumped down, relieved that her favorite professor wasn’t upset with her.

“If I may?” Narcissa said quietly. Both women nodded at her.

“After hearing from a few of them last night, I did consider that it might be more prudent if Hermione, instead of going to the castle for one full day per week, simply set up an individual schedule with each professor with whom she’s planning to study.”

“That might be better for the professors. Especially if they’re going to have Apprentices this year with whom they’ll have to work,” Hermione agreed.

“I have to agree. If we add sixty more seventh year students and even twenty Apprentices it’s going to alter our schedule a bit. It might take another week before any professors know when they can see you, Miss Granger.”

“That’s quite alright, Headmistress, I understand. Please, take care of those first. I’m getting married regardless. I’m not looking to go back to school to avoid the Decree,” Hermione turned and met Narcissa in a gentle kiss.

“I hope that’s not the only reason they’re all coming back,” McGongall frowned, setting down her teacup and walking toward the water’s edge.

“Oh, I don’t think so. No one would willingly submit themselves to the work of seventh year if they didn’t want to. Even if the main goal is avoiding an assigned marriage, they won’t want to be expelled, they’ll do their work,” Hermione hedged.

“And the Apprenticeships will be great for our community,” Narcissa agreed, “I was just speaking with someone last week about the lack of appropriately trained employees in the Ministry. It seems, sometime in the last two decades, the Ministry stopped requiring witches and wizards applying for employment to have completed even a basic Apprenticeship, never mind a proficient or mastery level. It’s my opinion that a lot of the blind subservience inside the Ministry could be mitigated by a more educated and experienced contingent of Ministry workers.”

Hermione blinked owlishly at her fiancée, appreciating her detailed opinion but blindsided by it.

“What?” Minerva practically shouted. “They don’t require apprenticeships anymore?”

“Headmistress,” Hermione said slowly, “They’ve invited Harry and Ron to be Aurors. They didn’t even attend their seventh year at Hogwarts and the six years they did attend were filled with disjointed studies and poor grades from one of them. I will literally never understand how Ron Weasley was Prefect over Dean Thomas or Harry, for that matter.”

“Dumbledore,” Minerva shook her head. “He was manipulating things that were years away. He had been watching Harry more closely than any of us knew and had seen Ron’s jealousy. Naming Ron school Prefect was his way of trying to make Ronald feel more equal to Harry. He was trying to force their friendship to last. Now, can you please explain exactly what you mean by ‘invited Harry and Ron to be Aurors’ because that is completely illogical. Aurors require at least five NEWTs at Exceeds Expectations or higher and an additional three years of training. How could they possibly have been invited to become Aurors?”

“Minister Shacklebolt decreed that anyone who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts and didn’t switch sides, flee, or die met the minimum requirements to become an Auror.”

“That is...wildly dangerous.”

Narcissa pressed her lips together and chose not to comment.

“Ronald Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom are now deemed Auror material because they didn’t die in battle?”

Hermione nodded, a grave expression on her face.

“We are going to have an entire generation of Aurors with no training out in the world after they’ve witnessed war. They haven’t even finished their schooling properly. There’s no way they’ve dealt with the fall out of the things they’ve seen and done,” Minerva dropped her head into her hands. “Is Harry going to be an Auror?”

“He is. As is Ron,” Hermione confirmed.

“Oh, Merlin. I guess I’m sending an owl to Kingsley today.”

“I apologize, Headmistress, but on that note, we actually have to be going. We’re having brunch with Draco and Dean at the Manor and have to get there.”

“And Harry, Hermione, don’t forget,” Narcissa said, reaching out a hand to her still seated fiancée.

“Of course, and Harry,” Hermione smiled.

“Thank you very much for allowing the use of your lovely cottage last night. The stars were beautiful on our walk here.”

Standing, Minerva reached out and took their hands in her own, “You’re quite welcome. If you care to use it during the year while Hermione’s at Hogwarts, simply owl me and I’m sure we can work it out. There may be late evenings and early mornings at the castle and Hampstead is a long way to Apparate from Scotland when you’re tired.”

Narcissa looked curiously at Hermione who answered, “I don’t live in Hampstead anymore. I’m in Seven Sisters for now but after December I think I’ll be in Enfield.”

Smiling brightly, Narcissa agreed.

They all began walking toward the cottage once more and Minerva asked, “Your parents? Are they still in Hampstead?”

“No one told you?” Hermione asked, tightening her grip on Narcissa’s hand.

Both women looked at Hermione curiously.

“My parents are in Australia. Forever.”

Narcissa remained quiet, hearing the emotion in Hermione’s voice.

Minerva asked, “Australia? But, Hermione, your parents-”

“Were my weakest point. The only way to keep them safe last year was to send them away. Unfortunately, the only way to get them to leave was to make them never want to return. So, that’s that.” She swallowed hard, appreciating Narcissa’s tight grip on her.

“But your wedding? Surely, they’ll return for that,” Minerva continued.

Wanting to protect Hermione from further conversation, Narcissa interjected, “Actually, we’re not really pushing for that right now. There are simply far too many Death Eaters still on the loose for Mr. and Mrs. Granger to come back right now. Even with Voldemort dead and gone, his supporters could be quite dangerously seeking payback against those they believe caused his downfall. And not many people did that more publicly than The Golden Trio. Bringing them back to London now could put them right back into danger.”

“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry to hear that. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. You’re both still welcome to use the cottage during the year, of course,” Minerva said kindly as she held open the back door for them to enter.

“Thank you, Headmistress,” Narcissa smiled, “Hermione’s just going to get her handbag now and I think we can go.”

“There’s Floo powder in the box there on the mantel.”

After Hermione came back out, face clear and bag in hand, she spoke, “Thank you, again, but we’ll just Apparate. The Floo at the Manor isn’t connected to the Network.”

Minerva was, once more, surprised but she simply shrugged her shoulders and wished the women well reminding Hermione to watch for an owl with a schedule.

The women bade farewell and went their separate ways.

“Oh! Mistresses, welcome home!” Pepper met Narcissa and Hermione at the door.

“Good morning, Pepper,” Narcissa smiled, “I have a big job for you first thing this morning. Can you do it?”

“Oh, yes, Pepper can do it,” the little elf said, nodding so hard her ears flopped around.

“We have Draco, Dean, and Harry Potter coming for brunch in just about an hour. Can you prepare brunch for all five of us plus a little extra just in case someone else shows up?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Brunch will be ready in an hour. Now, Mistress Black and Mistress Grainger go get ready,” Pepper gently pushed the women towards the stairs and skipped to the kitchen.

Hermione had a small smile on her face, enjoying the antics of Dobby’s little sister.

“Would you care to go upstairs with me and put away the items in that bag of yours?”

“Sure,” Hermione agreed.

Silently, but not uncomfortably, the couple made their way up to Narcissa’s rooms and began removing everything Hermione had packed the day before. After a few peaceful minutes, Narcissa, not looking at the other woman, asked quietly, “Hermione, are you going to tell me about your parents?” Hearing Hermione sniffle in response she turned only to see tears streaming down her fiancée’s face. “Oh, shhh, darling, shhh,” Narcissa wrapped Hermione up in her arms and held her tightly while the younger woman sobbed.

“Narcissa, you’re never going to marry me after I tell you what happened. What I did to them.”

“Thank you for believing I have morals and an upstanding code of ethics. We’ll work on you believing that I’m going to marry you later, just tell me what happened, darling.”

“My parents were my weak spot. They were the easiest, biggest target to get to me. They were completely defenseless and had no idea what to watch out for. The Order didn’t protect them the way they protected Harry’s family or each other mainly because my parents are both muggles.”

“What? I thought the Order were all about muggle protection and relations?”

“They are...on the surface. But when it came down to it and there weren’t enough Order members to guard everyone, they had to choose. The muggle families lost every time. So, I did what I had to do.” Hermione looked both defiant and devastated.

“What, Hermione? What did you have to do?”

“I asked them to leave. I asked them to move. I explained everything about the war, the Death Eaters, that the Ministry was likely to fall soon. That I couldn’t stay because I was a target for multiple reasons. I begged them to go.”

“They refused,” Narcissa sighed, hugging Hermione even more tightly, “of course, they refused. You’re their child. They would never willingly leave you on your own in a war.”

“I made them go.”

“Imperius? I doubt you could’ve done that.”

“No. I, um, I obliviated their memories of me. Slowly, carefully, and completely I removed myself from their minds and their lives. Then I sent them a brochure from Australia that there was a city in desperate need of dentists that would pay them to relocate. They went. As Wendell and Monica Wilkins, a lovely professional couple with no children.”

“Oh. My,” Narcissa put her hand up to her chest, as if holding her heart in place. “Hermione, that must’ve been so difficult for you.”

Hermione just nodded, stepping away and wrapping her arms around herself.

“We can try,” Narcissa said haltingly, “you know, to undo it. The memories aren’t erased completely. We can try to restore them.”

“Oh, Cissa,” Hermione flopped bonelessly into an armchair by the fireplace in the bedroom. “I want to say yes but I’m so conflicted.”

“I...immediately assume it’s because you don’t want them to know you’re engaged to me. I guess that’s rather unfair isn’t it?”

Hermione looked scandalised, “Narcissa, that’s not it at all. You’re a brilliant, strong, loyal woman. I’m proud to marry you.”

Biting her lip and trying not to cry, Narcissa sat in the chair next to Hermione’s, “then tell me why you’re conflicted. All the reasons. Just throw them at me.”

Chuckling for a moment, Hermione shook her head and then began her list. “I want them to be at our wedding but I don’t want to put it off to reverse the Obliviation first because that could take so long. I want to go and do it soon but I actually think you were correct and they still wouldn’t be safe here but I don’t want to wait years until every Death Eater is captured before trying. I’m terrified of their reaction when they find out what I’ve done. I messed with their minds against their will and made them do something they explicitly told me they did not want to do; how could they ever trust me again? What if it doesn’t work? What if trying to undo the spell just damages them somehow? And why isn’t what I did to them completely illegal? How could the Killing Curse, Cruciatus, and Imperius be Unforgivable but not Obliviate? Ridiculous.”

Narcissa took a deep breath before she tried to respond to any of Hermione’s concerns. Each aspect of the younger woman’s thought process needed to be taken seriously and given the attention it deserved. “I’m going out of order here, darling, okay?”

Hermione nodded, staring intently at Narcissa’s eyes, trying to figure out if her fiancée was upset with her or not.

“I agree, it probably should be illegal. Let’s both just be grateful it isn’t and perhaps include that on the list of things that needs to be revisited when the Ministry gets its act together. Next, I have a great many books on the subjects of Legilimency and Occlumency and both of those practices go hand-in-hand with Obliviate. I think we need to spend some time researching how the charm has been reversed in the past to make sure we follow a prescribed and safe method so as to not damage your parents.”

“Yes, exactly,” Hermione agreed.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Hermione. I’ll never lie to you. Trust between you and your parents will be hard won. When they realize what you’ve done they will be hurt and they will feel violated. You just have to commit to earning that trust back. Part of doing that will be admitting that you may have made a mistake.” Narcissa put a hand up to stop whatever Hermione was about to say. “I’m sure you still feel that you made the only decision you could have made at the time, however, perhaps through our own discussions we can come up with a different plan that might have worked. Just so they know, if anything were to ever happen again and they needed protection, you would have an alternate plan or two that did not involve erasing their memories and sending them off to a different continent.”

Frowning, Hermione reluctantly agreed that Narcissa was right about that one.

“I do think it will take some time to figure out how to safely and truly reverse what’s been done and I don’t know that we have that kind of time before December the twenty-first - and even if we did, I’m not sure it would be safe yet. I’m sorry, I don’t have a different solution to that other than to postpone our wedding. Which I will do if you want to wait until your parents can join us. Postponing would give us time to research a reversal and make sure Britain is safe before we marry.” Narcissa reached out as she spoke and entwined her fingers with Hermione’s, feeling surprisingly emotional.

“No.”

Swallowing carefully passed the lump in her throat, Narcissa asked what Hermione was negating.

Hermione rose from her seat to settle sideways on Narcissa’s lap. The older woman’s arms wrapped around her waist immediately and Hermione framed Narcissa’s face with her hands.

“No. I have no desire whatsoever to postpone our wedding. The Winter Solstice is perfect for us and that’s who our wedding is about...us.” Hermione leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Narcissa’s lips. “It would be lovely if my parents could be there but, unfortunately, they can’t. Honestly, for the past seven years my life has happened largely without my parents. It’s a sad, often overlooked, byproduct of being a muggle-born witch or wizard. We leave the world into which we were born and often lose those relationships or they become less important than our relationships in this world. Either way. No. Not postponing.”

Narcissa pulled the younger woman back down for another kiss, a longer, more passionate meeting with lips and teeth and tongues clashing.

They only separated because there was a knocking at the door. Hermione stood on shaky legs, followed by Narcissa, both breathing heavily.

“Come in,” Narcissa called.

Pepper popped inside, not opening the door. “Mistresses, Pepper will have brunch ready in a few more minutes. Draco and Dean and Harry Potter are in the sitting room, very tired.”

“Thank you, Pepper. We’ll be right down,” Narcissa smiled.

After the little elf left, Narcissa told Hermione she was going to fix her makeup and turned toward the washroom. She hadn’t even moved a step when she felt two strong arms wrap around her from behind.

“Thank you, Narcissa Black.”

“You’re welcome, Hermione Granger,” Narcissa answered, a besotted little smile on her face.

“Boys!” Narcissa let her voice ring out as she walked passed the sitting room toward the kitchen.

“Ugh, Mother,” Draco groaned, “my head.”

“How late did the party go last night?” Hermione asked Harry as he followed her.

“Last night? I don’t think it wrapped up until early this morning. I also have a feeling a lot more weddings will be happening in the coming weeks.”

“Ah,” Narcissa commented, “alliances forged on the dance floor. They don’t always hold up to the light of day but we shall see.”

As they took their seats around the table, glasses of an unusual looking liquid appeared before the three gentlemen.

“Pep? What’s this?” Draco asked.

“Not from Pepper, Master Draco, from Filly,” the wizened old House Elf answered. “I knew your aunts when they were in school and this came in very handy for them on a lot of mornings.”

“Do I want to know what’s in it?”

Laughing, Narcissa answered for Filly, “You absolutely do not, Mister Potter. Just drink it all down in one go. It’s better than any Pepper Up Potion I’ve ever tried. Trust me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked right at Narcissa to answer, “I do.” He raised his glass to her and drank it down.

She blinked rapidly and looked away, determined not to cry. Hermione reached under the table to pat her leg but was just a little too far away so she tried to slide her chair closer. It still didn’t work.

“Okay,” the younger witch stated, “for future reference, I don’t like it when you sit at the head of the table.”

The room fell completely silent and all eyes were on Hermione.

“Uh, I mean, it is her Manor, Hermione,” Harry said, sounding as awkward as everyone felt.

“What?” Hermione questioned, looking around, seeing everyone’s incredulous stares. “Um... what just...oh. Oh! No! I didn’t mean it in an I-want-to-be-the-boss way, I literally just don’t like when she’s sitting there because it’s too hard to reach her leg under the table and I wanted to just rest my hand there and this is not sounding any better I’m going to just shut up now.” Hermione dropped her head onto her folded arms on the table.

Hermione heard, faintly through the sound of the boys’ laughter, a chair leg scraping the floor. A moment later she felt a hand on her back and Narcissa said into her ear, “Slide over, darling, so I can pull my chair in here instead.”

Hermione sat up and moved her chair over, mildly embarrassed at her outburst but deeply appreciating Narcissa’s support. Before she looked at anyone else, she leaned over and kissed Narcissa, thanking her for her thoughtfulness.

“They’re the worst. I’m telling you, Dean, you’re going to get a cavity just sitting at a table with these two,” Draco teased.

“Oh, hush up and drink your brew,” Narcissa smiled.

After a few quiet minutes, Harry was the first to admit he felt better.

“Actually, I really do,” Dean agreed, “even my headache is gone.”

“Then enjoy your brunch and call if you need anything,” Filly said, snapping his fingers.

Food appeared on the table and the House Elves left the room.

With everyone’s plates filled, Hermione started the conversation, “So, where is everyone on the Decree rebellion?”

“Well, a few people last night made the decision to get married shortly. They won’t be asking permission or announcing it. Some of those are couples who might truly have wedded one another anyway, like Neville and Hannah.”

“Hannah Abbott?” Narcissa asked.

“Yes, the two of them were friends at school.”

Narcissa summoned her papers from upstairs and rose quickly to get a quill and ink from the owl room.

“I think I’ll just start a separate section for couples who choose for themselves. What do you think, dear?”

Hermione, looking over Narcissa’s work for the first time, agreed.

“Hmm. Longbottom and Abbott choosing one another, they’re both families in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. That doesn’t really help us unless they do seek and are granted Ministry permission. Then still it doesn’t prove anything, it just continues the circumstantial evidence. Do you agree?” Narcissa turned to Hermione for an answer.

“I do agree but I’m afraid to get involved with them and appear too controlling or pushy. Who are some of the other couples?”

“Blaise and Seamus, but they’ll be having an identical ceremony to ours. We’ve given them our script,” Dean said.

“Luna and Cho will be marrying under some Pagan ritual of Luna’s. Merlin knows if it’ll hold up to Ministry scrutiny.”

“Goyle and Padma Patil. That one was interesting,” Dean laughed a bit.

“Parvati is not marrying anyone. Nor am I,” Harry added quietly.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“There are a few of us who are simply not going to do it. Mandy Brocklehurst is also not marrying anyone. Neither is Astoria Greengrass. Daphne Greengrass, however, will by marrying Torben Rowle as they are already dating.”

Narcissa carefully set her quill down, and looked at Harry. “Are you sure about this? We don’t know what the Ministry will do to you if you refuse to follow the Decree.”

“That’s why I have to do it,” Harry answered, determination making his voice strong. “What would they do to me? The boy who lived? Without my being willing to die for all of us, and your being willing to lie about it, by the way, a great many more witches and wizards would have been killed by Death Eaters. Our whole world would be a different, terrible place. So, what are they going to do to me? Throw me into Azkaban? Kick me out of an Auror program I’m not qualified to be in? Publicly shame me? They’ve done that one already, I doubt the public will buy into it again. Parvati, Astoria, Mandy, Katie Bell, Oliver Wood, Marcus Flint, Terrence Higgs, Roger Davies, Andromeda, McGonagall, those people need me to stand against the Ministry, too.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione apologized. She had acted rashly and gotten into an engagement with Narcissa and now Harry was on his own against the Ministry once more.

“Hermione, you don’t-” Narcissa started but was interrupted by Hermione herself.

“No, Narcissa. I’m not ending our engagement. We are getting married in December. I’m just sorry that I can’t stand with him in his refusal.”

“If you’re sure,” Narcissa said, unsure of herself, looking anywhere but at Hermione.

For her part, Hermione reached up and gently held Narcissa’s pale cheek, turning the other woman’s face toward her own. “I’m completely sure. Please stop offering me a way out. I don’t want one. I just want to marry you. I wish tomorrow was the twenty-first of December.”

“We don’t all have to fight the same way. Remember? Different sparks. You refused to marry Ron and Lucius and are marrying one another, that itself was a rebellion,” Harry reminded the women.

“And if you don’t have children within the next year, that, too, will be a rebellion,” Draco offered.

“And our ceremony last night without Ministry permission was also a rebellion,” Dean agreed.

“Honestly,” Harry shrugged, “I think your Engagement Announcement was a brilliant bit of anti-Decree propaganda. It was all about how being together was your own choice. It was worded in such a way that people who blindly follow the Ministry won’t realize what they’re reading but anyone bothered by the overreach will see the spark you put there.”

“Let’s hope,” Narcissa said.

“Truly, I’m more concerned about the baby making part,” Draco said, refilling his mimosa. “What will they do if we don’t all start popping our little witches and wizards?”

“And, actually,” Hermione said, finger in the air, “what will they do if we do? There’s no way wizarding Britain has the resources to manage a forced baby boom the likes of which they’re trying to create. It’s irresponsible. If they want to increase our population, they need to make the people feel safe, well-educated, healthy, and financially sound. These are proven facts.”

Draco raised his glass to Hermione but Harry wasn’t so confident in her response. “Well, you two are getting married in December. Are you going to have a baby a year from now?”

Hermione glanced sideways at Narcissa who was looking down at her plate. Biting her lip, she contemplated the answer, “That’s a conversation we still have to have with one another. However, I will say, I’m planning to take eight NEWTs this year and then pursue two multi-level Apprenticeships. I feel it would be the height of a disrespectful and irresponsible spouse were I to be out busy with that all the time and expect Narcissa to be home, pregnant and alone. I don’t doubt her capability. It’s just not how I want our family to grow. It's an experience we should both be fully participating in."

“And I, for one, would not expect Hermione to try to complete all of that schooling and those Apprenticeships while pregnant. It would be physically exhausting and unhealthy for both her and the fetus.”

They were met with silence.

“I can not imagine two people better suited to one another than the two of you,” Dean said.

“And I will shout that from the rooftops,” Draco agreed.

“And at the Weasleys,” Harry finished.