Author's Note: Liked the idea of a Marriage Law, so tried to give it my own take.
AN2: To everybody that left a review of chapter 11…thank you so much. I was so angry and my feelings were very hurt with that terrible flaming review, and you all made me feel so much better. It is so gratifying to know that so many people have gotten emotionally invested in your story. Anyway, you are all too nice for me to ditch this story before the end. So here is chapter 12, with my thankfulness!!
What Might Have Been
Chapter Twelve
Madame Pomfrey clucked her tongue, as she ran her wand over Ron's injuries. Harry and Hermione stood to one side, watching anxiously. Harry was quite obviously holding Hermione up. They had levitated Ron to the hospital wing, but he had not yet regained consciousness.
"Somebody - probably more than one - has beaten him rather badly," Madame Pomfrey said. "He has some severe bruising, and that laceration will have to be sealed. His left arm and three ribs are broken. There doesn't appear to be any organ damage…if that's true, he'll probably be all right." Harry and Hermione sagged toward each other in visible relief.
"Do you know who did this?" came the familiar voice of the Headmaster, who had just entered the ward behind them.
"All Ron managed to say was the word `warn', before he passed out," Hermione replied. Harry's eyes narrowed.
"It was Malfoy…or some of his goons," he said, with certainty in his voice, thinking of Malfoy's warning in the Ministry the day his father was sentenced. This is not over.
"Harry, are you sure?" Hermione asked. Harry thought of Lucius Malfoy leering at Hermione from the chained chair in the courtroom. Had he known even then? The Ministry can still be bought with enough galleons. Even from Azkaban. His jaw set.
"I'm positive," he declared.
Dumbledore did not appear surprised, but perhaps a little saddened that it had come to this. "I have something, Harry, that perhaps you would like to see," he said softly. "If you would come to my office with me."
Harry threw a questioning glance at Ron's bedside. Hermione was standing nearby, with one hand resting lightly on top of Ron's. Madame Pomfrey assured them that she would notify them if anything changed.
"Are you going to be okay here by yourself?" Harry asked Hermione. She looked up at him then, and the incredible surge between them would have been obvious to a blind man. Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey exchanged sympathetic glances. "Sir," he turned to the headmaster, "if Ron was attacked because of He - because of the engagement, then Hermione shouldn't be alone."
"I'll stay right here, Mr. Potter," the mediwitch assured him, as she carefully applied salve to the worst of Ron's bruises.
With one lingering backward glance at his two best friends, Harry left the ward with Dumbledore.
He was in Greece when an unfamiliar owl arrived carrying his Hogwart's letter. He was a little surprised that he got it, but remembered the addresses on his first letter "The Cupboard Under the Stairs"…of course they knew where he was.
It was bulkier than those letters of years gone by, but he was still pleasantly surprised when the shiny gold emblem that was the Head Boy badge dropped into his hand. He supposed that he'd thought the honor would go to Ron, who had been prefect after all.
Head Boy…he was Head Boy. He knew Hermione would be Head Girl…there had never been any doubt in his mind that she would attain the position easily.
He felt a pleasant warmth seep through him at the thought of Hermione, and was vaguely surprised at himself. What was Hermione to him? His best friend obviously, but nothing more.
He told himself that emphatically a couple of times. She's my best friend. My best friend.
He thought of her fiery eyes and determined visage as she shouted, in unison with Ron, "Lux Prevalet!" She had never wavered; she had been there, at his side where she had always been, just when he needed her most.
Lux Prevalet. The light conquers. The light prevails. The power from the combination of the three wands had blasted Voldemort out of existence.
He could not have done it without them. Without her.
The light prevails.
She was his light.
Why had he not seen it before? Suddenly, he felt eager to return to school.
Harry rolled up the parchment after reading it carefully, and looked back up at Dumbledore, who had been sitting patiently and in silence at his desk.
"It's true?" Harry asked, unable to believe what he had just seen.
"We have no proof, only suspicions." Dumbledore said. "But I think our faith has been misplaced long enough."
Harry paused, unsure of what exactly the headmaster meant.
"What are you going to do, sir?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled briefly.
"The correct question is, what are you going to do, Harry?"
"Me?" Harry asked blankly.
"It is obvious that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger are in more danger than I had previously thought. The law gives them six months, but I think that perhaps it should be sooner."
"Sooner?" Harry's voice was a protest. He held the piece of parchment up, "But what about this?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said, as if he'd just remembered about the contents of that particular scroll. "yes, something will need to be done about that." Harry waited, but apparently that was all Dumbledore had to say on the subject. Harry felt himself growing annoyed.
"This is ridiculous!" he shouted suddenly. "We're just - we're leaving - Hermione and I - I'm just going to take her, and we'll go away. We'll take on new identities, and change the way we look, and we'll just go!"
"Then the people who passed the Marriage Law have already won," the headmaster observed softly. "You are consigning every young witch and wizard being manipulated by this law to their fate." Guilt prodded at Harry, and this irritated him further.
"What do you expect me to do?" Harry growled in frustration. "Why am I so bloody important? Why don't you do whatever it is that needs to be done?"
"The Wizengamot may have reinstated me, but I have far less credibility with those who are in power than I used to have. Harry, whether or not you like it, or even want to admit it, you are Harry Potter…the Boy Who Lived. And may I say, one of the most powerful young wizards I have come across in quite some time," Dumbledore paused, and Harry wondered absently if he was thinking of Tom Riddle. "With power, there is also responsibility and obligation." Harry gazed at him blankly. "People would listen to you, I think, if you chose to speak."
Harry opened his mouth to say something else, but Dumbledore continued as if he had not noticed.
"On your way back to the hospital wing, I suggest you pick up Miss Weasley, and let her know about what has happened to her brother." Harry stood up, understanding that he was obviously being dismissed. He was halfway to the spiral stairs, when the headmaster added, "You might want to speak to Miss Lovegood as well."
"Luna?" Harry turned around, mystified.
"I believe the deadline you have to answer any marriage proposals is approaching. As is hers. She is Pureblood, I believe?" Harry sighed heavily, feeling weary beyond his years.
"But, Professor - " he protested. Dumbledore looked him straight in the eyes.
"All you are doing," he said succinctly, "is buying time for Miss Lovegood," then added, "and for yourself as well. If this can be stopped," he gestured toward the crumpled piece of parchment in Harry's hand, "perhaps all hope is not lost for you and Miss Granger."
Harry's eyes suddenly came alight.
There were still a few students in the Gryffindor common room when he arrived, and he had one of the older girls run upstairs and get Ginny. She came down, bleary-eyed and yawning, in a baggy t-shirt and flannel pants.
Her eyes became instantly alert when he told her about Ron.
"Is he okay?" Harry nodded.
"He's been beaten up pretty badly, but Madame Pomfrey thinks he'll be fine."
"Was it Malfoy?"
"I'm pretty sure it was," Harry said grimly, and then grabbed her arm, pulling her very close to him. "Listen," he said. "Dumbledore just showed me something…can you keep a secret?"
Ginny nodded, her eyes wide as she looked up into his serious face. He spoke to her in a low whisper, showing her the parchment.
"If it's true, and we can prove it, we might be able to stop all of this. Let's go check on Ron."
"Do you really think it can be done?" Ginny whispered, as they climbed through the portrait hole, headed for the infirmary.
"We're going to need to send out a few owls. And someone is going to have to keep an eye on Malfoy."
"Where are we going to send the owls?" Ginny was mystified.
"Well, to Amelia Bones and Gringotts…and maybe a couple of other places. I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "Dumbledore has given me some hints, but he's basically thrown this at me, without much other information." He rolled his eyes. "I wish the old man didn't feel the need to talk in riddles all the time."
Ginny smiled a bit then, though her eyes still betrayed her worry for her brother. "It's a wizard's prerogative. Didn't you know that, Harry?"
"It's damned annoying is what it is," Harry grumbled, but he only half-meant it.
When they arrived in the hospital wing, Hermione was still sitting at Ron's bedside, her brow knit with anxiety. The low light in the ward glinted off of the stones in her ring. Harry felt despair take up its customary place on his shoulder. Ginny rushed up to Ron's side, and began plying Madame Pomfrey with questions. Harry watched, feeling helpless, feeling responsible, feeling guilty, and yet still part of him wanted to chuck it all and leave.
At that moment, Ron blinked and began to stir. Hermione let out an excited cry, and Madame Pomfrey turned from where she was talking with Ginny. The mediwitch started running some diagnostics over him with her wand.
"Ron?" Hermione said questioningly.
"Feel like…someone opened … crate of Bludgers…" Ron said raspily.
"Ron, who did this?" Harry interjected, his face looking deadly serious.
"Know…Goyle…didn't seem `em all," Ron spoke with effort.
"How many were there?"
"I think … five.." Ron coughed, then grimaced, "..hurts to breathe."
"You've some broken ribs, young man," Madame Pomfrey said severely, managing to make it sound like Ron's own fault.
"What did they tell you?" Harry said, still sounding businesslike. "You said `warn' before you passed out. Who are you supposed to warn?"
"Mal…foy - Goyle said…you…'n'Mione - his father… and the law…he wants her to - I …supposed…take it back, so he can - " He coughed again, and then vomited weakly off the side of his bed. The other three students backed hastily away from the bedside, as Madame Pomfrey scourgified the mess, and began spooning a viscous magenta liquid into his mouth.
"That's enough," she said authoritatively. "You three need to leave, and let my patient get some rest."
"Please, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said, in an uncharacteristically hesitant tone. "May I stay with him?"
Harry saw Madame Pomfrey's eyes drift down to Hermione's left hand, and the mediwitch nodded. "Of course, dear." Harry and Ginny had begun to drift towards the door, but had stopped when Hermione spoke. Madame Pomfrey shooed them the rest of the way out.
When they had gotten a few paces outside of the hospital wing, Harry startled Ginny by slamming one hand into the wall, and swearing violently.
"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked, her eyes wide.
He leaned against one wall, his head in his hands. Ginny noticed blood trickling from his knuckles, where the rough stone had abraded the back of his hand.
"She's staying with him," he said, almost as if he did not believe it. Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but he plowed on. "And, why shouldn't she? They're getting married. But I really hate it…and what kind of person does that make me?"
"It makes you human, I think," Ginny observed, sliding closer to him, until she leaned against the wall next to him. "But don't forget, she's his friend. She would have stayed if it had been you too."
"Dumbledore wants them married soon," Harry said. "After what's happened to Ron…" he trailed off for a moment. "He said this marriage would keep her safe!" Anger vibrated in his voice again. "You didn't see - " he thought of Lucius Malfoy, leering at Hermione. He thought of Draco's whispered threat, This is not over! "I'm not sure there's any way to keep her safe now."
"Yes, there is," Ginny said, confidence creeping into her voice. "We can stop this." Harry looked at her gratefully when she used the word "we". She glanced up at him uncertainly, eying him for a moment. "Have you - have you thought about talking to Ron?"
"About what?"
"About," she swallowed, "Hermione." Harry eyed her dourly.
"Why would I do that?"
"Because maybe he… if he knew, he - " She colored prettily, and could not finish. Harry arched one eyebrow at her.
"He could keep it a marriage in name only?" he said dryly. Ginny wouldn't look at him.
"If this works, they could have the marriage annulled…and everything would be fine," she said.
"You forget that he's in love with her."
"So are you!" Ginny protested. Harry's eyes drifted down the hall in the direction of the hospital wing, where Hermione waited, sitting with her fiancé. He felt bile rise in the back of his throat.
"Yeah…" he said vaguely.
Hermione slit open her Hogwart's letter, using a carefully placed "Diffindo" charm. A heavy golden object fell out into her palm. She stared at it, disbelievingly, for a moment. She was Head Girl.
If she allowed herself to think logically, she had known she was the most likely candidate. But there was still a little fear that she would not be chosen, born out of her innate fear of failure, fear of rejection.
It was part of the reason why she had never mentioned her feelings for Harry to anyone.
She could see him now, flushed and uncomfortable, looking away from her, completely embarrassed. "Hermione," he would stammer, not meeting her eyes. "You're my best friend and you're very important to me. But I - I -" Don't love you. He would not be able to say those words out loud. He would look guiltily at her, as if he felt bad for not being in love with her.
And she would laugh, and say not to worry about it, and that she was just being silly. And she would try not to cry until she got back to her dorm.
And then everything would be stilted and awkward between them. They would stop studying together. Harry would find reasons to avoid her, and she him. Ron would drift back and forth between them in confusion, but he would eventually choose Harry.
And she would be alone. Again. Just like first year. Hermione the bookworm, the bossy know-it-all, with no friends.
She rubbed her thumb over the shiny patina of the Head Girl badge, and smiled.
No, she would never tell him.
Hermione quietly entered the Head common room, as the first rays of light were projecting over the horizon. The western sky was still a dusky purple-blue. She walked quickly to the stairs, hoping that she could get a couple hours sleep in her bed, before her first class. Ron was doing much better, but her step was heavy, her face drawn. Dumbledore had come to see them, just before dawn, and what he had to say had been most unwelcome.
Her foot halted in mid-air, as she was about to step onto the first tread of the stair. Harry was laying sprawled out on the couch, still fully dressed, evidently in a light uneasy sleep. She paused, started across the common room toward him, stopped, started back toward the stairs, stopped again. She looked back.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry said, making her jump. He had not opened his eyes. She narrowed her eyes at him, but crossed the common room again, and sat in one of the chairs. He sat up, running both hands through his hair, and then pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I hate it when I fall asleep in my glasses," he said, annoyed.
"What's the matter?" he asked, when he looked up at her. She was sitting on the edge of the chair, looking at him pensively. His eyes darkened in worry. "How's Ron?"
"Oh, he's fine," she said, managing to smile. "He's a lot better. Madame Pomfrey said he might be able to leave tomorrow."
"That's great," Harry said, sincerely. They sat in silence for a moment. Hermione was watching him again. A beam of sunlight splashed through the window and landed in a puddle on the floor.
"Dumbledore came to see us a little while ago," Hermione finally said.
"And?"
"He wants us to get married this weekend." Harry shot to his feet, and then stared down at her stupidly, unsure of what he was hoping to accomplish.
"What? Why?" he stammered. Hermione was looking studiously at her feet.
"He thinks it will be safer. He thinks Malfoy will give up once the marriage has gone through. He thinks the pressure may be off of some of the other girls, once this `example' marriage has happened successfully."
Harry sank back down to a sitting position on the sofa. "I am getting good and bloody well tired of what he thinks," he said sourly. "Ron's supposed to be keeping you safe, but he gets beaten within an inch of his life… where does that leave you?"
"Professor Dumbledore's doing the best that he - " Hermione began, but Harry cut her off.
"And it's not good enough, is it? It's not helping us." He leaned back on the sofa, and felt something crinkle in his pocket. The parchment. He jumped back to his feet, and Hermione looked at him in bewilderment. "There may be a way…" he trailed off, not wanting to say more, in case it didn't work.
"Harry…?" she said.
"I've got to talk to Ginny!" he shouted, and was gone, the portrait hole closing with a snap behind him. Hermione's face was a mask of hurt and confusion.
"Ginny?" she said aloud to the empty common room.
TBC
Next chapter: Ginny and Harry work on his plan. And a confrontation between the Trio.
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