Author's Notes: Some of you have asked where you have read this story before. You read it on Portkey, under this name. It had an NC-17 rating. I was editing it for a PG-13 version of the story when my computer lost the file. I'm currently editing the story, and will be reposting it as I can perform the edits. This is not quite the same story as before. I've decided to re-evaluate Hermione and Harry's emotions and create more realistic characters, while staying as true to cannon as possible.
Chapter 4: Revelations
The ride to the Ministry took forever.
It had been decided - without Harry's or Hermione's input - to have them arrive separately, so as not to betray any hint as to their clandestine marriage. At this moment Hermione sat in the back seat of her parents' car, staring numbly out the window.
She had just married Harry. Not only that, but she had kissed him in a way she'd only kissed one other man.
Hermione blinked a tear out of her eye. She couldn't help but feel she had betrayed Ron by doing so, even though she knew the notion was ridiculous. Ron would have wanted her to be happy. To move on with her life. But this hardly counted as moving on. This marriage was a sham in every sense of the word.
But the kiss had not felt like a kiss of necessity. Hermione brushed a finger over her lips, her mind absently drifting to the thoughts of the kiss they had shared. Did Harry feel the same electricity when their lips touched?
No, certainly not. Harry was a loyal friend. He married her because it was the only way to keep her out of Azkaban. Shame flooded her body. What kind of person was she for thinking there was something more to that kiss? Her boyfriend had just died.
A small voice intercepted the thought. Don't worry about that now. Worry later. The trial is now. You need to be ready for the trial.
Hermione inhaled deeply and glanced to her parents. Her father was sitting in the front, silent as death, as Julius drove them to the Ministry of Magic. They had to use the back entrance because her parents couldn't apparate or use a portkey. Hermione was sure Julius would have rather apparated and avoided the trouble of driving on London streets.
They arrived at the Ministry of Magic and Julius took her father in first. In order to enter the Ministry, one had to dial a certain number on a muggle payphone. Muggles were not allowed in without an escort. Hermione and her mother soon followed, and as soon as they entered the ministry, they were assaulted by a dozen different voices at once.
Bright lights went off as cameras began flashing. Hermione shielded her eyes and could make out the faintest form of Colin Creevey, photographer apprentice for The Daily Prophet. She felt her mother pull her close as reporters assaulted her with questions. A few threw wadded-up pieces of parchment at her. At once, Lupin and Moody stepped up to them, shielding them from the onslaught as they began to make their way down the hallway to the elevator, where two security trolls stood guard.
"Goodness, is it like this everywhere?" Emma's voice was breathy, as if she'd finished running a marathon. Remus shook his head grimly.
"Downstairs is better. The entire corridor leading to the dun…I mean the courtroom…has been cleared. Julius and John are waiting in the defendant's holding room," Remus glanced down, and Hermione could instantly tell he was shielding her from something.
"What is it?" Hermione narrowed her gaze.
Moody rested a hand on her shoulder. "Fudge brought … dementors. They're not inside the courtroom…but they're waiting in a separate room."
Hermione felt her face blanch, and she glanced at her mother, who looked enormously confused. As Remus attempted to explain the purpose of the dementors, Hermione felt her gaze drift to the ground. Dementors…that meant they were planning on having her escorted to Azkaban…fair trial indeed…
Her mother looked positively terrified. Hermione avoided her gaze, focusing on the ball of ice that was forming in the pit of her stomach.
The elevator doors opened and the four made their way down the holiday. Hermione felt more and more nervous as Remus led her into a room with a long table and a few chairs. Julius was sitting at the head of the table, looking grim. Her father simply stood in the corner, rubbing his triceps and muttering something about the cold.
"I've got good and bad news for you all…" Julius began.
"We already know about the dementors, so just tell us the good news," Hermione snapped, patience wearing thin. Julius simply glared at her.
"That wasn't the bad news."
"Oh God…it gets worse?" Emma looked on the verge of tears. Hermione leveled her gaze on her attorney, carefully scrutinizing him. He looked positively terrified.
"I just found out…Percy Weasley will be presenting the case for the Ministry."
"Percy…Weasley?" John sounded confused. "Isn't that the brother of the boy…?"
Moody interrupted. "It … it means that he's going to be particularly brutal, because he wants this conviction more than any … He's … he's … never lost a case."
Her mother started crying.
He's never lost a case.
Hermione remembered the day Ron told her that Percy had started working in the Ministry legal department. They had joked that everyone in the courtroom would fall asleep before he finished opening statements. But he had been surprisingly successful in his career, known for his ruthless interrogation and Machiavellian treatment of defendants.
She stared at her hands. Her throat already felt dry. This day had started out almost normal … well, as normal as it could have been for an impromptu marriage to her best friend. Now she just wanted to go back to bed and never wake up. She clasped her hands together tightly, pressing them against her legs until her knuckles went white.
"And…," her voice was very soft, trying to conceal the despair she felt, "the good news?"
Julius gave her a weak smile. "Without Mr. Potter's testimony, they'll have no case. They'll have to dismiss it. And under the Wizengamot Court Procedural Act of 1572, Section 3, Subsection 2.1.2.A, that means you can never be arrested on these charges again."
He didn't appear convinced that they'd be able to persuade the court to accept this marriage was anything but a sham.
Hermione's head snapped up. "Wonderful, so all I have to do is ensure that I survive these charges, so I can live my wonderful life ostracized by the wizarding community and hated by the family of my dearly departed boyfriend." The bitterness in her voice surprised even her, but the emotions were boiling in her body, and she felt the urge to lash out. "And that's only if they believe that Harry and I didn't just get married to stop the trial. Otherwise we'll both be in Azkaban for the rest of our lives."
"Now, Hermione…" Remus piped up, silencing immediately under a glare from Moody.
"I am tired of being coddled and I'm tired of being in this ridiculous situation!" Try as she might, she couldn't keep the waver out of her voice. Angry tears threatened to explode from her mahogany gaze.
"As well you should be, Miss Granger," the voice came from behind her. Hermione turned, her jaw dropping as Albus Dumbledore strode into the room. "I assure you, after today, things will begin to improve. Now, if you would give me a moment alone with the others…"
Hermione's gaze narrowed, but she eventually nodded and entered the courtroom. It was rather empty, but she could see Percy Weasley pacing back and forth on one side of the courtroom. In the seats behind him were the rest of the Weasleys. Ginny was alone at the end, looking rather uncomfortable. Hermione frowned. Ginny looked terrible. Her usually vibrant red-gold hair hung limply around her face, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She looked thin … almost gaunt.
Keep your mind on the trial.
Hermione sighed, taking a seat on the defendant's side. A few minutes later, Julius joined her. To her surprise, Dumbledore strode in, taking a seat to her other side. He gave her a small, knowing smile, as if he knew the greatest secret in the world.
"Please rise," a young wizard at the front of the room called out.
The trial had begun.
* * *
Six hours later, Hermione wanted to rip her hair out. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. It seemed as if they were going around in circles. She scanned the members of Wizengamot. They seemed weary, too.
Great job Percy, Hermione shook her head lightly. Bore them to death. Then there will be no one left to sentence me.
Percy looked agitated. So far, Julius had managed to poke holes in every piece of evidence he had brought forth. The Weasley seemed unusually nervous, as if he was out of his element. Hermione wondered if the Ministry had made a mistake letting him prosecute his own brother's murder trial. His normally zealous nature seemed a bit misrouted, as if he had tried too hard and lost site of his objective.
Beads of sweat were starting to form on Percy's eyebrow. He was a man running out of options, and it was painfully obvious in his stance.
"One more witness, your honors. I would like to call Harry Potter to the stand."
Hushed whispers rang throughout the crowd. The doors to the back of the courtroom opened and Harry strode in with a grim, yet determined look on his face. He took a seat at the witness stand. Percy glanced at Hermione, a sadistic grin on his face. Hermione tried to stifle a grin, but couldn't help but smile back. Percy frowned and looked to Harry.
"Do you swear to tell the truth, Mr. Potter?"
Harry nodded. "I do."
"Please state your name for the record."
"My name is Harry James Potter."
"And you were friends with the defendant?"
"Yes."
"And you were friends with the victim, were you not?"
"Yes."
"Describe the nature of your relationship with the victim."
"We were best friends."
"And with the defendant?"
Harry glanced down. He looked at Hermione and then cleared his throat.
"We...were friends…"
Percy Weasley smiled. Hermione could almost sense the triumph in his demeanor. He thought he had her.
"You were Ron's secret keeper, were you not?"
"Yes."
"And Ron had another secret keeper, did he not?"
"I guess."
Percy frowned. "Hermione was his secret keeper also, wasn't she?"
Harry smiled nervously. "I can't answer that."
A collective gasp sounded throughout the courtroom. Harry was willing to defy Wizengamot? Cornelius Fudge looked positively enraged. The previously despondent court had perked up, and all eyes were on the wizard in the witness seat. Percy's eyes narrowed.
"Answer the question, Mr. Potter."
"I can't."
Percy threw up his hands into the air, exasperated. "And why not?"
There was a hush in the courtroom. Harry continued staring straight at Percy. Hermione could see from his rigid posture that he was incredibly nervous. He right hand kept reaching up absently to touch his scar, restrained only at the last moment by some modicum of self-control. It was a nervous habit of his, she'd come to recognize.
Hermione glanced at her foot, which was tapping quickly on the ground. Harry was not the only one who was nervous about the court's reaction.
Please let this work, Hermione breathed silently.
"Because Hermione is my wife."