Chapter 1
Hermione Granger had never considered herself a patient woman. She’d always been one who, while prepared and ready for whatever the situation may call for, was of the mind that if you could get it done today then you shouldn’t put it off until tomorrow. Sure, after the war she’d promised herself to try and be more laid back and less anal-retentive but that didn’t mean she was succeeding. So when she had been standing in line for her portkey back to Europe, her turn couldn’t come fast enough.
She had spent the last ten days packing her apartment and corresponding with her friends about her return. She relented to using owl’s for this and opened some of her wards to allow her friends to contact her directly, as the muggle post just wasn’t fast enough over international boundaries for the conundrum they were all currently dealing with. She had spoken to Harry first, expressing her surprise and disgust at the new law, and inquiring about his own thoughts on it. He had been vague in his response, leading Hermione to suspect that he may have known more about this law than he was letting on. He had also insisted that she move in with him when she came back, even going so far as offering to pick her things up from the ministry (since 12 Grimmauld Place remained unplottable after the Order had stopped using it as headquarters) and telling her that he’d pick her up from the portkey station as well. Ron had been more vocal in his disdain for what he called “this bloody marriage shit those bloody fucking ministry wankers are making us do”. She had admonished his vocabulary choice in her reply, however insincere her teasing may have been, and let him know that was her sentiment as well. Ron had also pointed out the clause that stated they could petition the ministry to get married to a person of their choosing, more than hinting (as subtlety had never been his strong suit) they should just get back together and spare themselves from this whole awful mess. She hadn’t said much beyond a carefully worded no thank you when she replied to that message. When she had received Ginny’s letter it seemed the younger woman was kind of intrigued about the whole thing. Though she wanted to wait and discuss things in person, she believed this could be an interesting experiment. It was obvious to Hermione that Ginny didn’t think this was going to actually happen or at least wouldn’t last very long, but Mione didn’t want to burst the poor girl’s bubble. The most recent owl she’d gotten was from Mrs Weasley. In her letter, between smudges of ink that were no doubt the result of tears, she had insisted Hermione visit as soon as she was settled at Harry’s and begged her to consider Ron’s proposal before it was too late.
So, Hermione had sent owls of reply and did what she needed to move out of her place. She put in her notice to the landlord, bought boxes and proceeded to fill them with the things she would take with her and the things she would be donating, sent Crookshanks to Harry over muggle air travel (since the poor thing couldn’t be portkeyed), and visited her parent's graves to say goodbye, clear the headstones and leave fresh flowers, as she didn’t know when or if she’d be able to come back in the foreseeable future. Now she had already moved out, sent her things ahead, and was more than ready to just be back in England already. Her leg bounced where she stood, her book forgotten in her crossed arms as she couldn’t actually concentrate enough to read it any longer, and she glanced once more at the watch that sat on her wrist. Just like the last time she had checked, only about three minutes had passed since she’d last looked.
“All boarding for London, please be advised your portkey will be loading as soon as the portkey to Birmingham-Wolverhampton leaves.” The conductor announced boredly. Hermione huffed in misplaced annoyance. She knew she was more nervous about finally going home and seeing everyone than she was annoyed at the portkey operators. As it was she’d gotten to the station over two hours early so all the waiting was partly her own fault. The portkeys were almost always on time (save for major problems like the rare splinching or misplaced person) and hers left at one am. It was only 12:55. She heard the telltale swoop of the portkey taking off and pulled her bag from one shoulder, over her head to the other shoulder and put away her book. A few moments later and her queue started moving as people took their spots around the portkey. She laughed a little as she took in the sight of it. Where the one she’d taken on her way to Perth had been an old number plate from off someone’s car, this one seemed to be a shopping trolley stolen from a nearby Woolworths. She stood in the circle around it with four other sleepy-looking people; two older gentlemen in suits, a younger man who looked to be around her own age who wore pyjamas, and a pregnant looking witch who was somewhere between the other three ages.
“Right then,” the conductor started, “everyone knows how to use a Portkey? Yes? Good. Today at exactly one o’clock anyone touching the trolley will be transported to London. Your journey today will take approximately six minutes and twenty-two seconds. Please take hold of the trolley, keep your grip firm and do not let go until you are once more on the ground. Any accidents caused by user error will not be the Australian-New Zealand or the British Ministry’s fault nor will you be compensated for any injuries. That said, outside of user error the chances of someone getting seriously injured on a portkey are slim, however, it has happened before that someone splinched themself, broke an arm, or even died from a faulty portkey. We do believe that everything will run smoothly today and do not expect any issues during your journey. If you no longer wish to partake in today’s journey please speak up or step back now and someone will escort you back to the station's entrance.” Hermione swallowed her swelling anxiety, as she absolutely hated the spinning that portkeys caused, and looked around to see if anyone would be stepping away. No one did and she looked back at the conductor as she grasped the metal on the side of the trolley. “Alright then. Thank you for choosing Melbourne Palace Portkey’s today for your journey. We know you have your choice of portkey stations and are glad you have decided to travel with us. We hope you have a good trip and wish you all the best wherever you go when you arrive at your destination.” The gentleman next to her yawned as the operator spoke monotonously. The large clock on the wall struck one am and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as the spinning started.
She could feel it behind her navel first, almost like her stomach was sucking the rest of her body in on itself, and by the time she started feeling that dizzy, fuzzy feeling in her head she could no longer feel her feet aside from the pins and needles that consumed them. Her breathing was laboured and her hands started to sweat from where they were holding on, her muscles threatening to give out on her as she kept her eyes closed and focused on not falling off and landing herself in some random Asian town as an unidentifiable corpse.
After what felt like a lifetime the spinning finally started receding and before she realized it, they were back on the ground in London. Her knuckles and hands were practically white as she let go of the trolley. She shook them out as she doubled over and tried not to vomit. The younger man she travelled with had already been sick down his front, and one of the businessy looking travellers was helping the pregnant woman to the floor when she nearly passed out. The other man seemed completely fine and walked away with nothing more than a slight sway in his step. Hermione glanced at him enviously from between her knees as she swallowed a bit of bile. After a few minutes she was finally controlling her breathing some, and no longer feeling too nauseous so Hermione started wandering to the station entrance to try and find Harry. She passed people in various stages of arrival; some just popping into existence, others were on the floor, more were looking green around the gills or heaving into waste bins strategically placed about the building. As she walked, she removed her jacket. Since it was quite cold in Australia she had kept it on for the journey, but when she had finally arrived in London, it was to 31-degree weather and she was starting to sweat just a bit. Finally making it to the front doors of the portkey station, she squinted out into the sunlit courtyard and looked around for her best friend. She smiled as she spotted Harry walking toward her and took in his appearance. He looked much the same as he had the last time they’d spoken face to face; shaggy, unkempt black hair that stuck up in odd angles, his thin face a little fuller than it had been when they were on the run, and his sparkling green eyes peering at her behind another pair of broken spectacles. She squeaked slightly before chuckling when he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Harry! It’s so good to see you again.”
“Godric, Mione, I’ve missed you. Never leave for that long again, yeah?” He replied with a laugh. She pulled back and they walked side by side to the designated floo networks across the street.
“I have so much to ask you about, I can’t wait to catch up,” Hermione replied, pulling out her wand. “Also, I cannot believe your glasses are broken again. Oculus Reparo!”
“Thanks, Mione,” Harry commented while he pulled the glasses off of his face to inspect her spell work.
“Honestly Harry, I don’t know how your glasses always seem to be broken. I’d think you’d remember that spell if nothing else from all the times Mrs Weasley and I’ve used it on you.” Harry smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck with a shrug as they got into line at the fireplaces. “So, what have you been up to since I’ve been gone? I know you’ve told me a bit about it in our letters but what else?”
“Well, I’ve been playing quidditch with the Weasley’s after dinner on Sundays. You are required to go now that you’re back, just so you know. And I’ve been to a couple of the new wizard and muggle pubs that have popped up since you’ve been gone. Not a whole lot to report there, Seamus’ Place is still the best around, no question. Oh, I also met a new girl at work a few weeks ago. We’ve been on a couple of casual dates but since the whole Marriage Law thing passed we haven’t really gone out again.” They both grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace one after the other, yelling ‘12 Grimmauld Place’ as they did. Once back in Harry’s living room they dusted themselves off and Hermione threw her coat and bag onto one of Harry’s couches as they made their way into the kitchen. “D’ya want anything to eat? I’m gonna have some leftover curry but I think there’s still some Chinese in there and a sandwich or two from Molly.”
“No thank you, I’m still on Aussie time so I’m a bit knackered. But you go ahead and eat.”
“Oh, did you want to go back to bed? Your stuff is all in your room and I think Kreacher made your bed before we got back.”
“No, I think if I sleep now I won't be able to sleep tonight. Even with the aid of sleeping potions,” Hermione laughed. “How have things been at the DMLE? Any new news? And who is this girl you were seeing?”
“Her name is Jessica, she works with Percy in Magical Transportation. She’s pretty, a blonde, but like I said aside from a few dates it hasn’t gone anywhere. We haven’t really seen each other since the announcement.”
“Well, how’s the department? Any news on the death eaters you were hunting?” She asked as she picked up Crookshanks from where he weaved between her feet. She set him on her shoulder as she pet his back and he started to purr.
“Yes actually, we’ve been able to locate and arrest Rookwood and Macnair. We’re still looking for the Carrows, Dolohov, and Greyback but we’ve got a new lead on Dolohov at least.” Her chest tightened a little at his name, the scar he’d given her during the battle in the Department of Mysteries burning white cold and causing her to shiver a bit. “Rookwood admitted under Veritaserum that when he’d been hiding in Ukraine he crossed paths with Dolohov at one of the safe houses. Unfortunately, when we raided the house last week it had already been abandoned but it’s gotten us one step closer to finding him. How about you? Any new creatures to tell me about?” He inquired as he took a bite out of his leftovers.
“Yes! Luna sent pictures of two new species she found in India. She found a new subspecies of dragons in the Brahmaputra River, called a Uragas. They are predominantly green-scaled like a Welsh, although a much darker shade, and they have red fangs and crests that appear to have jewels growing out of them. We’re hoping they work similarly to Hungarian Horntail spikes when combined with dittany and billywig slime to create a more powerful substitute for unicorn horn in Wiggenweld Potion. I’ve already told Luna that she needs to have a team from the Ministry’s DOMC go and collect a specimen so I can study it when I start in a few weeks and shes-”
“You’re starting at the Department of Magical Creatures? When did you put in your application for that?”
“Oh, I talked to Kingsley about it when I replied to his message about this whole marriage mess. She said that she could probably refind-”
“When did you have time to talk to Kingsley about the Marriage Law?”
“He contacted me when the law was sent out, now stop interrupting me. You asked about any new specimen and I’m telling you. Luna said she could probably refind the Uragas the next time she’s in that area but last time we corresponded she was still in the Himalayas. Anyway, the Uragas are predominantly water-dwelling, and it sounds like they’re egg layers but Luna couldn’t be sure on that one since their nesting sites seem to be pretty deep underwater. While they do resemble more closely to snakes than common European dragons, they are still capable of breathing fire. Luna said they didn’t seem able to fly for long or for large distances. Aside from that, the most recent findings I’d been sent were a new species of demi-humans living in the Himalayas calling themselves ‘Ashvamukhi’. They are mostly predatory and violent and ninety perecent female from what we’ve been able to discern. They have the same kind of charms Veela do; fatally attractive, charismatic, sexually voracious,” Harry choked on his food and let out a soft ‘Godric’s sake Mione’. “Oh come off it Harry, I’m well aware that you are no virgin, and you should therefore have no problem having an adult discussion involving the topic of sex or sexual acts.”
“Yeah but blimey Mia, did you have to say it so plainly? I’m trying to eat here.”
“Oh please,” she giggled. “If you can eat while Ron moans during a good chicken dinner, you can certainly handle me talking about a newly discovered race of sexy horsewomen.”
“Horsewomen?”
“Yes, I was getting there. They are mostly human in appearance - though their breasts and hips are admittedly much bigger than the average female - but they have the head of a horse. They also tend to be quite tall and unlike Veela’s they are very dark-skinned, almost completely black from the pictures, though Luna said that the tribe she’s spoken to is only one of a few so that may not be the case for all of the species. From what Luna has said it appears this particular tribe carts off the men of the local village every few years. We think it’s for reproductive purposes, however, they do also have males in their own tribes so we may be wrong.”
“What, so men just randomly disappear every few years and the locals don’t investigate?” Harry asked incredulously.
“Well, that’s the thing, these tribes of muggles seem to be aware of magic and attribute the disappearances to the Ashvamukhi. They seem to revere them as some kind of deity. So in their eyes, there is no reason to go looking for the disappeared men because they aren’t technically missing. They’re just not where they’re normally supposed to be. We do know the villagers see it as an honour to be taken and claim that the Ashvamukhi are quite virile. Although, we’ve been able to deduce that after the men are done impregnating the women they tend to be killed so it’s not all daisies and roses for them either.”
“Mione, please promise me that if some horse-woman, Asham—whats-it, whatever you call it, steals me, you’ll come looking for me. I don’t fancy being taken away, even if it would include what I’m sure would be some excellent shagging.” At this Hermione let out a full-body, head thrown back, shoulders shaking laugh.
“Sure Harry. If you’re ever kidnapped for the sake of having earth-shattering sex with a Hindu goddess, I will come and save you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ve made my day with that last one, Harry. Merlin, I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard in a long time. I think I’m going to go see about unpacking a few things while you finish eating, yeah?”
“That’s fine, you remember the way to your room?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Ok, well, let me know if you need any help.”
“Will do, thanks again for letting me stay here Harry.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t let you stay anywhere else.”
“I know, but still. Thanks.” Still smiling, Hermione rose from her chair and took Crookshanks with her as she headed upstairs.
She knew that she probably wouldn’t be able to stay at Harry’s after she was married, most likely she would be forced to move in with whatever bastard she was stuck with, but that didn’t stop her from making her room comfortable while she was staying there. She started unloading the seemingly small box of books that had been spelled with an undetectable extension charm, starting with her old Hogwarts textbooks, followed by her wizarding favorites like Nature’s Nobility, Hairy Snout, Human Heart; and Folio Magi. She ended with her personal collection of books for pleasure reading; The Great Gatsby, Wuthering Heights, Moby Dick, The Tempest, The Merchant of Venice, The Bear and the Dragon, Before I Say Good-Bye, Hannibal, and more. She set them up on the bookshelf that Kingsley and Aberforth had built her. It was seemingly one shelf but it moved up and down the wall to reveal different sections, and expanded sideways to show hidden shelf space. She wished she could replicate the spell work in every bedroom she had but she didn’t know the exact charms they’d used. She had tried to replicate it a few times and had gotten the extra side space to show up but hadn’t obtained the up and down movement. She asked Mr. Dumbledore once during Christmas break eighth year, but he refused to disclose the wand work and the full charm stating it “was a gift” for her and that “people don’t ask questions when it comes to gifts”.
When she’d levitated them all into place she moved onto her more personal memorabilia. She put the decommissioned time turner (McGonagall had taken all of the charms and things off of the necklace, so it really wasn’t a time turner but that’s still what she called it) on her dresser and the old DA communication coin on her nightstand. She was unloading her old S.P.E.W. badges on to her wall when Harry came up to help unload more things.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you have this picture still,” Harry said with a chuckle. She looked over to see him holding a moving photo of the two of them and Ron at the end of second year. They were laughing and waving in their robes with the winning house banner behind them and a few grumpy looking older Slytherin’s glaring at them in the background. She smiled fondly, remembering she had only recently been awakened from her 23 day petrification and the boys had been doting on her, allowing her to study in peace by keeping all the others away from her in the common room and bringing her food when she forgot to eat. It was one of her favorite pictures of them together, second only maybe to a picture she had of them after the battle. They were all standing in the rubble of the bridge and while they had been crying, it was finally happy tears that Voldemort was finally gone.
“Why wouldn’t I have it? It’s me and my boys. It was one of our earliest moments as a trio, you know, after Ron had finally pulled his head out of his arse and decided that even if I was a stuck up little know it all, which I was,” she chuckled, “I was still a part of the group.”
“You were always part of the group, we always adored you, you know.”
“Not first year you didn’t!” She laughed as she pushed his shoulder, knocking him onto his butt on the floor.
“Ok, maybe not the first half of the year but by the end of it we were all pretty tight.”
“Yeah, we were. Oh, here’s a good one! Remember this?” She held out a photo to him to look at as she kneeled beside him. This one was a muggle photo of them taken during the Yule ball, just her and Harry smiling and giving each other a side hug. “God I can’t believe that night ended so horribly.”
“Did Ron ever apologize to you for that?”
“No, but I’m over it. It still irks me, sure, but after everything we’ve been through it’s kind of a fond memory of him being jealous like that.”
“Well, I’m sorry. You looked beautiful and we ruined your night. Ginny told me how much effort you put into your hair and makeup that day.”
“Thanks Harry,” She said with a sweet smile. “It was horrible at the time but it’s ok now. Besides, you've both made it up to me over the years.” She continued with the framed photos, putting them up around the room as he took them out of the box. She smiled occasionally at the happy memories and before long her desk and nightstand were full. Her smile faded as she looked over and noticed Harry deep in thought.
“What’s wrong Harry?” She asked sitting down next to him to look over his shoulder at the last photo. It was a group photo from graduation. Harry, Ron, and herself were in the center with Ginny next to Harry; Neville, Luna, Dean, Kellah, Parvati, Hannah, Susan, Justin, and Ernie were all standing together smiling and waving and laughing, throwing their caps in the air.
“Do you think we’ll ever be happy again? I mean, after we’re all forced to marry people we don’t know, will we all still be close? It’s just bizarre to me to think that we’ll have to fit other people outside of our group into our everyday life, you know?”
“I get it,” she said softly. She rested her head on his shoulder and gazed at the picture of them and their friends. “It’s going to be bizarre to think that after 11 years we’ll have to spread out, but we’ve already kind of been doing that, haven’t we? You, Ron, and Seamus are working on different cases at the D.M.L.E, Ginny is always away with the Harpies for games, Dean is busy running the bar. I mean, we never see Luna anymore with her travelling for research, and Neville practically lives at Hogwarts because he’s shadowing Professor Sprout, not to mention I’ve been half way across the globe for the last few years. We were always going to grow apart after school, Harry. We just have to try our best to not let life get in the way of us staying close as best friends.”
“I know, I just... It just feels like everything is going to change when we’re forced into these new relationships. And everything is finally good now. You’re home, Voldemort's influence is almost completely gone, I just feel like nothing will ever be the same.”
“Sometimes change is good, Harry. We can’t just decide not to follow the rules, we have to try to make the best of this situation.”
“This is just so much to have to deal with. I thought that after the war we’d finally be able to live our life with no one telling us what to do or pulling the strings.” She frowned and nodded at him.
“It can’t be all bad. I agree, this is awful and shouldn’t be happening but they’re doing everything they can to put us with people who will actually be good for us and compatible. That has to count for something? Right? Surely, with all those tests and spell work they can find someone better for us than we ever could find for ourselves?” She frowned, unsure if she was trying to convince him or herself as well.
“Right, we should just trust the government to know what is best for us. Because it’s worked so well in the past.” He said with a snort. She smirked in a critical way.
“We can find a way to make this work, even if down the line we have to fight tooth and nail to get the law repealed. We took down freaking Voldemort, what’s one little marriage and a few babies if it means living life free of worry?”
“I don’t know how you can be so optimistic about this Mia.” Harry said with a sigh before getting up to leave the room. She watched him go with apprehension and didn’t let him know that she wasn’t being optimistic. She was desperate.
～Edited 19th Jan, 2022