Hermione should’ve known something was off when she entered the Burrow after being gone for almost the entire summer. It was almost unnaturally quiet, typically it was loud and boisterous, all she could hear was quiet talking. Hermione allowed the door to close quietly behind her. As she carefully twisted her ring to face her palm.
“Hello? Is anyone home?” Hermione hears an excited exclamation then fast moving footsteps. Before she knows it, Hermione is being swept up in Molly Weasley's tight hug.
“Oh, Hermione! You’re back! Oh! Come, come inside! You don’t need to act like a stranger!” Before Hermione can say anything in response, she’s being ushered into the living room where everyone is sitting. Molly sits back down and picks up her knitting. Meanwhile Ginny gets up and quickly pulls Hermione into a tight hug, she pulls away with a tight smile.
“It’s good to have you back Hermione. I just wish circumstances were better.” Hermione gives Ginny a confused look, but before she can voice her question. Harry and Ron are sandwiching her in a big hug, then in a whirlwind the rest of the Weasley family is hugging her. Though the Weasley twins are last and she watches with some hesitation as they share a wicked grin.
“Hello Hera,”
“Where have you been since the war?”
“Hopefully not causing to much,”
“Trouble without us.”
Hermione just barely stops her lips from twitching into a smile as the twins take over and finish each other's sentences, while unconsciously clenching her left hand to make sure no one has seen the ring safely on her ring finger. “Hi Fred, George. I hope that you weren’t causing your mother too much trouble.” They just give her an innocent grin with their crooked halos on display. Then they are pulling her onto one of the couches to be sandwiched between them.
Hermione took a moment to study the occupants of the room. Taking note of everyone's body language and their facial expressions. “Would someone like to tell me what’s got everyone looking like they are going to be forced to walk to the gallows.” When no one made a move to answer her, going as far as avoiding eye contact. She looked to Fleur, who throughout the time of being gone from the wizarding world after the battle till now, they had become good friends through writing to each other. Eventually getting two-way mirrors to make it easier to speak to one other.
“Fleur…?”
“Mon Cheri… you won’t like it.” Fleur waves her hand and a copy of The Prophet lands on Hermione’s lap. Hermione is well aware of the stone landing hard in her stomach, as she slowly looks down at it to read. All she has to see are two words in large, bold, loud print before she is setting the newspaper on fire. Causing exclamations of shock to escape everyone.
“Hermione… are you okay?” Harry’s timid and concerned voice brings her out of her stupor of watching the flames. Hermione slowly lets out a breath and looks at Harry, choosing to ignore the concerned looks from everyone in the room in favor of staring Harry down.
“Did you know about this Harry?” She watches as his eyes go wide with shock and violently shakes his head.
“Hermione, no! I had no idea about this. Kingsley never gave any sign to anything that may have been going on.” She studies him for a few seconds then pushes out a breath and nods her head. Hermione is well aware that everyone is watching her warily and anxiously waiting for what she is going to do. She ignores them for now and closes her eyes, digging deep into the bond with her beloved.
---
She’s sitting in a bar in New Orleans, trying to take her mind off the fact that even though she had obliviated her parents to keep them safe… it was the muggle world that killed them. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and got killed in a freak accidental fire.
She stared into her glass of whiskey-as close as she could get to fire whiskey- watching it swirl with the movement of her hand. Now, not only was she made into a child soldier by a meddling old man with too much time on his hands. She’s also an orphan, she has no more biological family left. At least not any that her parents were ever on good terms with.
Hermione feels someone sit down to the side of her - obviously male - from the audacity. She just barely stops herself from snorting at the thought, she’d dealt with enough of that from boys to last her lifetimes. She finally glances up when the bartender, - Charit--Charlot-Cham- no… Camilla? No no that wasn’t it. Her eyes catch the nametag, Camille! - comes over to get the man whatever drink it is that he wants.
“I’ll have whatever this lovely lady is having here.” Hermione’s eyes rolled so hard that it actually slightly hurt her nerves. Although, she does catch that Camille gives the man a look that says, ‘don’t go there with this one.’ Which of course gets ignored, causing Hermione to grip her glass just a little tighter and give Camille a small smile that says, ‘thanks for at least trying’.
To which she just gets a small pitying look back, as Camille turns away to take care of the other customers. Hermione looks back down to her drink and finds that she’s not all that interested in finishing it anymore.
“You’re new, around here, everyone knows everyone.” Hermione just barely glanced at him before staring back into her drink. “The name’s Marcel, what’s your name beautiful?” Hermione lets out a deep sigh and turns her body to look at him head on. She studies him for a few moments, he vaguely reminds her of Kingsley, but something about him is much more… wild? That didn’t seem like the right word to use, but it’s the best that she can come up.
“Look, I've had a rough couple of weeks… hell a rough eleven years. I’m really not in the mood to deal with a man believing he is God's gift to women. Thinking that he has the right to just walk up to me with that stupid look and automatically get in my knickers. I don’t have the energy to bloody well deal with that sort of megalomaniac narcissism. That's what started the war in the first place. Now if you want to just have someone to talk to and eventually be friends with, great! Then I will gladly talk with you… but if it’s anything more than that. Get the bloody. Fuck. away. From. me.”
Hermione could only dispassionately watch as he blinked in shock a couple of times. Then he let out a loud laugh.
“Okay, you got it. I could use a friend that isn’t psychotic. Let’s start this over, shall we? I’m Marcel Gerard, what’s your name?”
Hermione carefully accepts his hand to shake it, very aware that her fight or flight is on high alert. She could practically hear Mad-eye yelling ‘constant vigilance!’. She slowly shook it and let go, taking a swig of her glass of whiskey, allowing it to slowly go down.
“Hermione Granger, lovely to meet you Marcel.” A flash of a grin is what she sees him give her from the corner of her eye.
---
“Marcel! Marcel….! Could you bloody well explain to me the cryptic text? Why does this place look like an atomic bomb went off?” It really did look like someone set off a bomb, there was blood, debris, bodies, and body parts everywhere. Hermione blinked a couple of times wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. She reaches into her beaded bag and grips her wand tight: as she feels the memories from the Battle of Hogwarts try to overtake her.
“MARCEL!!” Hermione is well aware of the panic trying to take her over as she looks around the carnage in the entry area. She is well aware of the white-knuckled grip that she has on her wand. All of the warning bells are going off in her head, the very small Slytherin part of her, is telling her to hightail it out of the country and never look back. While the very large Gryfindor part of her, is absolutely refusing to leave until she finds her friend.
“Can I help you Miss…” Hermione whips around so fast, she almost makes herself dizzy. She barely even takes in the fact that the man standing in front of her is wearing a suit and tie looking very pristine and put together. As though the carnage isn’t surrounding them. The only reaction she gives him is to take out her wand lightning fast and throw a nasty stinging hex at him.
She watches as he staggers back and grits his teeth, she hears a low growl come from his throat. As veins appear and disappear from around his eyes. When she finally processes who it is, she quickly puts her wand away with a horrified gasp.
“I’m so sorry! It’s the instincts from the war! Are you okay? Oh, Merlin! I really do apologize!” She doesn’t even realize that she’s rambling until she notices that his lips are twitching in amusement, slowly letting out a breath, she allows herself to give a self deprecating smile. “I’m rambling again aren’t I? Well, my name’s Hermione, I’m good friends with Marcel. I’m assuming that you are Elijah Mikealson, from that.” She waves her hand at what he’s wearing.
His lips quirk at her reaction to his clothes, “So you would be the Miss Granger we have heard about. It’s nice to finally meet you, after everything that Marcel has told us about you. Come, Marcel is this way, I believe that you will be able to heal him.” Then with that he turns and walks away, expecting her to follow. Hermione lets out an annoyed huff at the assumption, but follows him anyway, wanting to help Marcel heal. Since typically, as a vampire, Marcel doesn’t need magical help to heal.
---
“Can I help you Mikaelson?” Hermione doesn’t take her eyes off of the detox and restorative potions she’s making for Klaus. Even as her spine tingles from Elijah being right behind her.
“Why are you willing to help us, Miss Granger?” She glances at him and takes in how he is studying her. She allows her shoulders to drop on a cleansing exhale. And turns her attention to the two softly bubbling cauldrons.
“I am who I am Elijah, I see Marcel as one of my best friends. I would even go as far to say that I trust him with my life. In turn I feel that you and your siblings have become good friends of mine. Klaus and I have a very clear understanding and friendship. I save his life or ass and he does the same for me. We watch each other's backs and when he needs to be soundly smacked on the head for being a bloody boy with the emotional range of a teaspoon: while planning on mass killing people that don’t deserve it, then I do that as well. I’m helping all of you because in my own way, I love every single one of you and want you safe. I’ve seen a lot of death, Elijah, way too much in my arguably short life. I’m tired of fighting, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you safe. We’ve talked about this before. I also distinctly remember telling you that you can call me Hermione, multiple times.”
Hermione feels him come up behind her and press against her, making her able to feel the dips and ridges of his body. Shivers break out across her skin as he swipes away the few hairs that fell out of her wand-bun, from her neck. She just barely stops herself from collapsing at feeling him drape his larger stature around her to press his nose against her neck. Her breath hitches as his lips brush her neck, and for one wild second, she almost wishes that he would bite her.
“I’ll stop calling you Miss Granger, when I finally make you Mrs. Mikaelson.” His voice is like a dark promise as his words seal her fate, she quickly turns to face him. By the time she has her back facing her potions, he has long since disappeared from the room. Her hand lands on her chest; where her heart is violently beating, almost out of her chest. A shaky breath escapes her as she turns to face the cauldrons, to continue working on the potions needed to save Klaus’s life.
----
Hermione’s ears are ringing badly, her sight is extremely blurry, and she can barely feel her body. She doesn’t notice anyone is anywhere near her until she feels a bloody wrist being pressed onto her mouth. It isn’t until she has drunk a couple of mouthfuls that her senses fully come back to her. When she is finally able to get her eyes to focus, Hermione sees that Elijah is cradling her to him.
The look on his face takes her breath away, causing her to carefully put her palm against his cheek. Hermione couldn’t put the words to what passed between the both of them at that moment. It was as though their very souls touched in that moment and said, ‘oh, I remember you.’ In that singular moment Hermione made her choice, Elijah, catching the moment she made up her mind: got this look in his eyes that spoke of not letting her go ever again.
Hermione’s fate is sealed and she cannot make herself care or worry. This is her choice and she will not regret it. She’s ready for the rest of her life.
----
“Hera, Are you ready to make the portkey?” Hermione turns from triple-checking what she has packed to look at Elij- her husband. Causing her lips to form into a brilliant smile: as he comes up to her and picks up her ring hand to softly kiss the back of it. She steps in his embrace, one of his hands weaving through her wild hair, pulling her into a soft and loving kiss.
“Let’s get going, the rest of the family is ready. I believe you also have a few people in your life that will demand answers.” Hermione can’t stop the wince from escaping her at that reminder, but a small laugh escapes her at the raised brow Elijah gives her. She can see the amusement in his eyes, so she gives him a quick kiss, shrinks her things, and quickly puts them in her beaded bag. Then with a wink to her Husband, disapparates them with a crack.
----
Hermione slowly brings herself back to her surroundings, finding herself much more grounded now that she can feel Elijah. Seeing everybody staring at her still, most likely waiting for the huge blowout. She finds herself serenely smiling at them, with a calmness that echoes throughout her entire being.
“I’m not going to do anything about it. I refuse to bend to this law and I won’t marry some old pureblood that I have never met. They can try and force me, Merlin, they can break my wand. I’m going to focus on making it through school. I didn’t fight in a war and get physical, mental, and emotional scars, just for these bloody dunderhead pureblood Wizengamot to… to… marry off muggle borns to become broodmares!”
Everyone's jaws drop at her words, causing Hermione to let out a huff. It’s silent for a long time afterwards, eventually being broken by the twins cackling. Causing Hermione's lips to start twitching, soon she finds herself following them.
Which slowly pulls everyone into laughing, until the whole house is filled with loud laughter.
‘Yes,’ Hermione thought, ‘this last year of school is going to be amazing.’ she knew it without a doubt.
----
It was just after winter break when the Ministry finally realized that she was not going to submit to their posturing. It only took until after the holiday and fifty something unopened and burned notices: finally they sent a group of Aurors to come to bring her before the Wizengamot.
It was the little piece of paper that had written, in spiky and elegant script; ‘Miss Granger, you have visitors. I do love hemlock.’ Hermione's lips twitched, leave it to Headmaster Snape to have his code be a natural and deadly poison. She tossed the message into the flames and made her way to the Headmaster’s Office. When she came up to the potential entryway she gave the gargoyle a fond pat.
“Conium maculatum.” The entry opened and she walked up the stairway to the doorway. With a soft knock on the door, she was permitted entry by Headmaster Snape. Hermione took stock of who is sitting in the Headmasters office; her head of house McGonagall, five aurors, one Ministry official, and of course, the Headmaster.
“Miss Granger, it seems that you are needed at the Ministry. Something about… ignoring their… correspondence.” Hermione's eyes snap to Headmaster Snape’s, reading the amusement and knowing look in his eyes. She can easily see that he knew from the beginning that she was already married. Long before they were anywhere close to passing this mockery of a law. Hermione turns her eyes to the people from the Ministry, choosing to not look directly at McGonagall… at least for now.
“Gentlemen, please lead the way.” She watches with satisfaction as they flounder for a few moments. Finally they jerkily nod and lead her through the floo, straight to the Ministry. As they lead her down the sprawling halls, she studies the way with interest, and if they were smart enough to actually pay attention. They would find it strange how intensely she is paying attention to the way they are bringing her.
Reaching out to her bound with Elijah, she sends what Klaus had jokingly called a ‘distress signal’. Giving Elijah ample enough time to get to where she is… with his entire family in tow. Hermione finds herself standing in front of the Wizengamot, finding that she had once again, lost time while connecting with her beloved.
“Hermione Jean Granger, you are in violation of the Marriage Law decree. We have sent over fifty letters to you to choose who you were going to marry. We then sent over sixty letters to you, demanding that you show up at the Ministry to marry your chosen husband. Still you did not show, so now you have two options; marry who we tell you to or get your wand snapped and be sent to Askaban for a year. Once that year is up we will be revisiting your… willingness to comply with our law.”
Hermione just raises a brow at the head of the Wisengamont words, of course they would come up with something that ridiculous. Knowing that fear of just getting a wand snapped let alone going to Askaban would stop anyone from not abiding by the law. She allows her eyes to flutter close at the feeling of her beloved being in the room. Though she knows that no one will see him nor the rest of her family, until they are damn ready to make their dramatic entrance.
“I find it funny that in your arrogance, you made a law to force all muggleborns to marry purebloods. When purebloods were the ones that started the war in the first place. I’ve read that law; there is no way for a muggleborn to get out of the marriage once they are forced into it. It’s magically binding. Tell me, in your own self-importance, that you haven’t earned, did you at all think of the fact. That possibly, you would need to protect the muggleborns from harm in these marriages? I, as a human being, have the right to choose my life and whomever I want to marry without the government forcing it on me. Besides, how do you expect me to marry someone… when I am already married to the love of my life?”
Murmurs broke out between the people of the Wizengamot, as they talked over her words. Then they went dead silent and collectively paled, once they finally processed that she is already married. Hermione couldn’t stop the almost manic grin that spread across her face upon watching the blood drain out of their collective poncy faces. Now she understands why Klaus always feels so triumphant when he does something that causes reactions like this.
There is some sputtering- a lot of sputtering - until one of them finally finds the ability to speak intelligently.
“Miss Granger, what do you mean you are married?” Hermione calmly watches as this little peon of a man clenches his hands tightly as he speaks. She looks down at her left hand and calmly twists the ring back into place. Then with a grin she holds her hand up for the Wizengamot to see that she is indeed married. Before they can create an uproar, however, a dark and smooth voice breaks the silence.
“She means that she is my wife and a Mikaelson.” A shudder goes through her body at his touch and she leans her back against his front. As he drops a calm kiss to the top of her head. “If you must know, not only are we married in what you call the muggle way. We are also married in the eyes of the MACUSA and magically bound to each other. For. Eternity.”
All of the Wizengamot are gaping in shock and fear, of course the wizarding world knows of the Mikaelson’s. After all, they were the ones that helped save the Wizarding world during the witch trials. It really shouldn’t be surprising that the brightest-witch-of-her-age, she-who-single-handedly-kept-the-boy-who-lived-alive-so-that-he-could-become-the-boy-who-lived-times-two, and she-who-is-brilliant-but-terrifying would end up marrying a Mikaelson.
Upon hearing throats clear, the Wizengamot look around the room, seeing themselves surrounded by highly pissed off Mikaelson vampires… promplty shite their pants and whimper piteously for mercy. While the Mikaelson family remain unmoved.
“Let's talk about this… Marriage Law , shall we?” All Elijah gets in response are terrified noises.