Author's Note: Liked the idea of a Marriage Law, so tried to give it my own take.
Oh and none of these people are mine….
What Might Have Been
Chapter Sixteen
The elaborate wedding ceremony plodded forward at a snail's pace. Harry's heart felt like lead in his chest. Even when he was fighting Death Eaters from every side, even when he had been lying injured in the hospital, he had never felt so powerless, so impotent.
Ron knows, Ron knows, he kept trying to tell himself. You have time. But Hermione was there, standing less than a meter away, marrying somebody else. He had caught Ginny's sympathetic eyes on him a couple of times, but Ron and Hermione had not looked at him at all. They had not taken their eyes off of either each other, or Dumbledore. Hermione's putting on a good show, Harry mused, but that thought was immediately followed by, What if it's not a show? And off Harry whirled on the roller coaster of self-doubt.
Dumbledore then pulled out a length of shiny, wide ribbon that was a deep crimson color, and Harry found his attention back on the wedding ceremony. He had never attended a wizarding wedding before. The Headmaster cast an incantation on the ribbon, which flared briefly with a bright, white glow, then faded back to normal.
"This is the Ribbon of Lifebonding," Dumbledore intoned. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, please extend your arms." Harry watched as Hermione held out her left arm, and Ron held out his right. Dumbledore looped the crimson ribbon around their arms, using his wand to twirl it into a loose knot, so that the ends of the ribbon dangled downwards. He then tapped it with his wand, and said, "Semperomnia."
Nothing happened.
For the first time ever, Harry saw Dumbledore look discomfited. He held up his wand again, and Harry noted that his hand trembled ever so slightly. "Semperomnia," he tried again.
Nothing.
There was a rustle of whispering that grew into a rush of murmurs. Harry looked at Ginny, confused. What was going on? What was supposed to happen? Ginny's eyes were wide with shock, and she looked at Ron and Hermione fearfully.
"Hermione?" came a pleading whisper from Ron, who was angled away from him. Harry saw Hermione's face then…she was ashen, and her eyes were wide with fright and bewilderment.
"No..." she whispered, half to herself. "No…it can't…." Ron was holding her hand now, the crimson ribbon linked loosely around their joined hands, forgotten. Ron was moving, trying to stay in Hermione's line of vision. She was desperately trying to avoid his gaze.
"It's got to be a mistake," she said, and then for a brief, barely noticeable instant, she let her eyes flicker to Harry's.
And Ron saw it. He turned toward Harry, a bitter, disbelieving half-smile on his face. "You bastard," he said, in a perfectly normal tone of voice, as if he were telling Harry hello. The rush of many voices grew louder, and Harry saw the flash of several cameras.
"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, I believe - " Dumbledore began, trying to regain control of the situation.
"What are you talking about?" Harry said at the same time. Ron threw a punch before the Headmaster could complete his sentence. It connected with Harry's jaw. There were some shrieks from the audience, and Harry heard Mrs. Weasley scream Ron's name, over the ringing in his ears. "Ron!" Harry shouted. "What the hell - ?" The Grangers had jumped to their feet, and were looking as confused as Harry felt.
Ron's face was red with anger and humiliation. "I was going to help you," he said, clearly waiting for Harry to get up so he could continue the fight. "I thought you told me the truth."
"I did tell you the truth," Harry protested, not in any hurry to get off of the ground. Guilt needled at him. Could the magic somehow know that he and Hermione had…? "I don't understand what - " he gestured toward the ribbon which had fallen to the ground at Hermione's feet. He noticed Hermione then, standing in an odd slightly-bent posture, as if she were going to be sick. One hand hung limply at her side, loosely holding her flowers. The other hand was splayed at her waist. She looked like she was in shock. Ginny was standing right behind her, one hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Hermione?" he said, fear for her in his voice.
"I believe this has gone far enough," came the voice of Arthur Weasley, as he came up on the pavilion from his seat in the front row. "In fact, it has gone too far. Mr. Minister," he said, as he rounded on Fudge, "this law of your - "
Harry's ears had only just registered a muttered word from near the edge of the forest, when light zinged through the air, and Mr. Weasley dropped like a stone, hit with a stunning spell.
"Arthur!"
"Dad!" Mrs. Weasley and Ginny cried, flying to his side. Harry leapt to his feet, and looked around frantically. They were sitting ducks up there on the dais. Hermione was still standing, pale and wide-eyed, looking like she did not really comprehend what was going on. Moving in almost perfect sync, Harry and Ron grabbed Hermione and dove off the side of the platform, where they had at least partial cover.
The wedding guests began to move as one, jerking about in a chaotic motion, as if unsure where exactly to go first. The whispers and murmurs had turned to shrieks of fear and the cries of the wounded. Harry watched people crouch behind chairs and flower arrangements, and some tried to make it across the open ground to the cover of Hagrid's hut. Not many made it.
Harry jumped up to fire off a curse, as he saw a masked Death Eater come into full view at the back of the gathering. "Damn! Death Eaters!" he sighed. On the other side of the platform, he saw Dumbledore crouched near Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.
"Tell me what is going on!" He said ferociously, as he ducked back down to Ron. "What was supposed to happen?"
Ron scoffed in an ugly way, at Harry's continued insistence of unawareness.
"Like you don't know!" he said, as they both stood together, and took two Death Eaters down. Harry caught a glimpse of Remus dueling desperately with another masked figure. There was a flash of red at the edge of his vision, and he figured that Ginny and her mother were trying to drag her father out of harm's way.
"Why would I know?" Harry said with exasperation, ducking a flash of purple light that shot over his head, and exploded. Part of the canopy over the pavilion caught fire. "This is the first wizarding wedding I've ever been to!"
Ron had opened his mouth to retort again, but did a double take. For the first time that afternoon, it appeared that he had actually heard what Harry was saying. He swallowed, and sadness seemed to replace anger in his eyes.
Hermione appeared to have gotten control of herself now, and was crouched beside the boys, firing curses along with them. Harry wondered absently where she'd had her wand. She was still very pale and seemed preoccupied.
The stone altar on the dais, where the wedding party had stood, exploded from the force of a curse, with a low rumble. Shards of rock rained down on them, and Harry heard Ron swear as one gashed open his temple.
Harry peered out again, and saw several of the wedding guests fighting quite well, and guessed that these must be the Aurors that Amelia Bones had promised. Tonks had gotten herself backed into a corner, and Harry watched Remus fight vainly to make it over to her side. He ducked back down.
"We can't stay back here," he whispered to Ron. "They need help." He pointed Ron around the other side of the dais, and prepared to go around the near side himself. "You stay here," he hissed to Hermione. Her eyes flashed, the first sign of life he'd seen from her in several minutes.
"Like hell I will, Harry Potter," she exclaimed, and proceeded to follow him. Harry noted with bemusement that she had transfigured the full skirt of her dress robes into pants as she walked.
They skittered around the edge of the dais, and took momentary shelter behind the wide panel of heavy fabric where the corner of the pavilion was anchored to the ground.
"So what happened back there?" Harry hissed, knowing there were more important things going on, but unable to let it drop.
"Harry, for the love of Merlin," Hermione sighed angrily at his timing. She peered around the corner, and fired off a hex. "There!" she said, with relief, "Remus got to Tonks. I think - " she broke off suddenly, whirling and pressing her back against the canvas, as a jet of purple light shot past her.
"C'mon Hermione, the entire wedding went to hell…evidently I had something to do with it, and I don't even know what the blinking ribbon was supposed to have done!" he said, in irritation. Bits of ash began to float down on his head, and he realized that the entire canopy was engulfed in flames. He grabbed her hand, without thinking about it. "We can't stay here. Go. I'll cover you."
Hermione nodded, and hurried over to a large ceramic planter that held a beautiful arrangement of gardenias. Their heavy perfume wafted in the air, mingling oddly with the scent of smoke, burning fabric, and the hot acrid smell of curses. Harry followed her carefully, firing spells as fast as he could.
At the last second, he saw a solitary Death Eater standing on the dais, oddly enough, evidently unaware that he was making himself a target for the entire room. They saw each other at the same time.
The Death Eater acted first, firing off a curse that Harry was forced to dive away from. He landed hard on his right shoulder, at the base of the planter where Hermione was hiding.
"Damn," he gasped, struggling to suck air into his protesting lungs.
"Harry?" Hermione said alarmed. Every now and then, she stood and fired a spell into the melee. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, but his right arm caved under him, and he swore at the pain that shot up his arm. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern creasing her features.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" he repeated stubbornly. He managed to sit up, his right arm cradled to his side, and put his wand in his left hand.
"Your arm's broken," Hermione observed, ignoring his question.
"Is that Death Eater still up on the platform?" Harry asked, looking at her sourly. Hermione peered through the blossoms, and replied,
"No, he's - "
" - right here," came a smooth voice. Harry cursed his inattention, and looked up at the masked figure standing over them. With a muttered word, the Death Eater had disarmed them both.
"Might as well take the mask off, Malfoy," Harry drawled, despite the throbbing pain in his arm. "Although it does improve you somewhat."
"You are hardly in a position to be insulting, Potter," the figure spat, leaving no doubt in Harry's and Hermione's minds that Harry had been correct.
"What are you trying to pull, ferret?" Harry said in the weary tone of a mother who's constantly reprimanding her children. "Aspire to be the next Dark Lord, do you?" Malfoy snorted.
"Always so overdramatic, Potter," he said, obviously amused. "I simply want to keep the Pureblood lines just that…pure."
Harry figured that his mind must be operating a little more slowly than usual because of his arm. "But you…sent the scroll….for Hermione," he said, with difficulty.
Malfoy actually threw back his head and laughed aloud. "That law was utterly ridiculous!" he said disdainfully. "My father is the one who `persuaded' the purebloods to sign off on it. There was never any intention of actually - " Harry watched him with interest, hoping Malfoy's ego would spur him on to greater revelations, but the blond Slytherin stopped suddenly, staring over Harry's head, a muttered swear word on his lips. He said two things that made no sense to Harry. "It didn't work!" and "Why are they here?" And then he flung Harry's and Hermione's wands out onto the green toward Hogwart's, and apparated away.
Harry and Hermione cautiously poked their heads over the edge of the planter. Wedding guests were wobbling around in disarray, looking in dismay at each other around the ruined wedding gathering. Fred, George, and some other Hogwart's students were spraying water from their wands to put out the canopy.
Harry looked fearfully around for casualties. He saw Mr. Weasley being helped into one of the chairs that was still upright, looking pale and shaky, but otherwise unharmed. There were several others clapping bloody rags to various injuries, obviously victims of cutting curses. Ron was across the aisle from him, anxiously talking to his father, and still bleeding from the cut in his temple, but looking well, considering. Harry tried to stand up, and bit back the urge to vomit, as the bones in his arm ground together. Hermione helped him make it to his feet, and he stumbled into her, swearing as he tried to catch himself with his broken arm. Their gazes met briefly, and Harry forgot he even had an arm.
"Hermione…" he began, but then noticed the red smoky replica of the Dark Mark floating at the top of the canopy. "What the hell?" he muttered, half under his breath.
"It must have been a signal," Hermione said matter of factly. "It's what Malfoy was looking at, when he disapparated. Oh!" she cried suddenly, and trotted across the grass to retrieve their wands. "At least he left us these." Harry tried to ignore the sensations that flew up his left arm, when her fingers brushed his as she handed him his wand.
"What in the world was he playing at?" Harry asked nobody in particular, mystified. Then he noticed a clot of people standing near the back, apparently Aurors, standing with Amelia Bones. Her eyes roved through the crowd, and landed on him. She smiled slightly, when she saw him, and nodded almost imperceptibly.
Harry felt his heart surge, a great leaping feeling in his chest. She had gotten something important, he was sure.
"Harry," Hermione said, her voice low, her lips quite close to his ear, "I bet the Aurors' arrival is why Malfoy and the other Death Eaters left."
His answer was precluded by a soft hoot from behind him. Perched on the edge of the planter was a regal horned owl, with a golden medallion around its neck. On the medallion was emblazoned the word, " Gringotts". There was something rolled up neatly in its leg sheath.
Harry turned to Hermione with a brilliant smile.
"It's three o'clock," he said.
Harry couldn't sleep. He tossed listlessly in his bed at the Burrow, in the room that had once been Percy's. Soft snoring drifted down from Ron's room, and must have been absolutely deafening for anyone who might have been in there.
After a moment, he sat up in annoyance, deciding to go down to the kitchen and see what might be in there to eat. He crept quietly down the stairs, and was nearly to the kitchen doorway, when a voice spoke from the living room sofa, startling him.
"Can't sleep either?" Hermione said calmly.
"Are you going to make a habit of startling me?" Harry asked, grinning.
"Are you going to make a habit of sneaking around?" Hermione countered with a shrug.
"I'm trying to be quiet," Harry answered defensively. "I was hungry." Hermione continued to stare at him, one eyebrow raised. "I couldn't sleep," he finally admitted, under her quelling gaze.
"Are you having nightmares?" she asked gently.
"No, not really…" he said, trailing off doubtfully. Were they still nightmares if they happened when you weren't asleep? Were they nightmares if you saw things that had actually occurred? "Just having trouble getting to sleep…"
She regarded him quietly for a moment. "Me too," she said softly, her eyes looking far away. "I still see them." Her voice was faint, as if coming from a great distance.
Harry knew what she meant. He didn't have to close his eyes, to see Hannah Abbott fall, over and over again. He could stop up his ears, but it wouldn't block the mocking sound of Voldemort's laugh, Ron's cry of anguish when they came upon Percy's unmoving body, Mrs. Weasley's sobs at the news of Bill's death…
"So do I," he whispered hoarsely. She came toward him then, and he wrapped his arms around her mechanically, burying his face in her hair.
"You know you can talk to me if you ever need to, Harry," she said, her warm brown eyes boring into his troubled green ones.
"I know," he admitted, feeling himself grow warm under her gaze. His mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Thanks." She looked at him again, curiously, as if she were searching for something. Something unidentifiable flickered briefly in her eyes. She lifted one shoulder.
"What're friends for, Harry?"
Harry ripped open the envelope and scanned the missive quickly. He couldn't stop a smile from flitting across his face. He looked up and searched the crowd, watching as the wounded were taken up to the castle, and people moved around in anxious knots, talking in low concerned voices.
"Nobody's dead," he said aloud, suddenly.
"What?" Hermione exclaimed, having been trying to read over his shoulder.
"Nobody's dead. What kind of Death Eaters attack a wedding, and don't kill anybody?" he asked, almost rhetorically. Hermione latched on to what he was thinking immediately.
"The kind who are causing a diversion," she answered.
"And I asked Madame Bones to check out Azkaban for me…"
"They were trying to break Lucius Malfoy out of Azkaban!" Hermione finished for him.
"That's what all this has been about…" he mused out loud, his eyes scanning the throng again.
He stopped when he saw the Minister talking animatedly to Mr. Weasley, Amelia Bones, and Dumbledore.
"… be letting them win, if we don't go on with the wedding…" Fudge was arguing, snatches of his words drifting to Harry. From what he could tell, the others did not seem to be in favor of this.
"It would be futile, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Every person here… Lifebonding ritual did not … marriage now would be a complete farce."
"Would you really seek to break up a family?" Madame Bones asked, her voice carrying clearly across to Harry.
Cornelius Fudge appeared to be quite upset that the showcase of his beautiful law would not be completed. He began to bluster and gesticulate again, and Harry caught the phrase "moral decline". He felt his face flame. This was his fault….he had slept with Hermione, and thanks to Ron jumping all over him in the middle of the bloody wedding, everyone here knew it. At least it won't be all over the front page of the Prophet, he managed to think gratefully.
"Hermione," he said, turning back toward her. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" she asked, even as her face burned pink.
"For…I know it was my fault that the ribbon thing…and I'm sorry for …I know this has got to be embarrassing - I mean for everybody to know that we - " Hermione's color deepened as he spoke, and he finally broke off, swearing under his breath, and running one hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry too, Harry," she said, her voice a low murmur. She wouldn't look at him. "I feel so stupid… I mean, I should have known, but - I would - I would have told you, if I had realized…"
Harry looked at her suspiciously, suddenly getting the feeling that they were not talking about the same thing.
"Hermione, what -- ?" he began, but was interrupted by Madame Bones. She pulled him off to one side, firmly.
"You were absolutely right, Harry," she said. "Lucius Malfoy was on the island, but not in the prison. The Aurors had been instructed to allow him access to the guardhouse."
"What?" Harry gasped.
"He was receiving post, and we managed to intercept a quite interesting one… from the Minister himself." The tone of her voice was normal, but Harry saw danger flashing in her eyes. Wordlessly, he held out the parchment he had received from the Gringotts owl. After she had read it, she took Harry's arm - thankfully his left one - and steered him up to the platform.
"I think you need to address this gathering," she said, in a tone that brooked no opposition. Harry blanched, trying to forget about the pain thrumming up his arm.
"But Madame Bones…" he began, desperately, as he saw some of the guests start to notice him.
"You are the Boy Who Lived, Harry," she said, smiling at him. "You can do this."
"Oh God," he said, his voice barely a squeak. The murmurs begin to quiet down, and he wondered vaguely how foolish he looked standing on a ruined dais for no apparent reason.
"I - I have something - " he began, suddenly feeling very sweaty.
"Harry," he heard a hiss from the side, and saw Hermione gesturing to her throat with her wand. "Sonorus," she mouthed. Flushing uncomfortably, he magically amplified his voice, and started again.
"I - there is something that everyone needs to know about the attacks here today," he said, swallowing with difficulty. He wondered how many papers would print front page photographs of the Boy Who Lived losing his lunch in front of hundreds of people.
He saw Hermione standing to one side, her hands and lips clasped tightly together, looking at him with a shining expression.
"The attack was a diversion… to mask the escape of Lucius Malfoy from Azkaban Prison," he said, confidence beginning to creep into his voice. He heard the murmurs begin. Several flashes went off. He took a deep breath, and continued, "This entire plan was orchestrated by none other than Cornelius Fudge."
The murmur became a roar. Fudge was saying something that Harry could not make out, his face red with rage.
"I think we should hear the boy out," Amelia Bones was saying calmly. Harry heard Fudge say something about "pressing charges".
"You'd better have proof, boy!" Fudge snarled. Harry met his gaze, a sudden calm washing over him.
"Yes, Mr. Minister," Harry said politely, though his tone had an edge to it, "I certainly know how important it is to have evidence when you accuse people of something." It was a direct reference to Fudge's attempt to have him arrested, and it caused Fudge to look slightly discomposed.
"Minister Fudge has been consorting with known Death Eaters for quite some time now," Harry continued. "He has made it possible for Lucius Malfoy, a murderer and loyal follower of Voldemort, to live not in Azkaban Prison with the dementors, but to instead live in the guardhouse of Azkaban, in complete comfort." His gaze flickered to Amelia Bones, who nodded serenely. "He was found there just this afternoon, when Aurors interrupted the escape attempt."
Harry heard Mrs. Weasley's betrayed cry, and had to struggle to maintain his composure.
"I have bank records," he said, as his voice cut through the exclamations of the crowd, "of transactions that took place between Malfoy family vault and Fudge's personal vault," he held up the parchment from Gringotts as proof, careful to keep his injured right arm cradled to his side. More camera flashes. "There are also transactions," he raised his voice, as the roar of the crowd threatened to overwhelm him, "from the Malfoy coffers, funding the Ministry itself!"
The murmurs turned into an angry grumble, and Fudge began to look quite unsure of himself.
"The Marriage Law propagated by the Ministry, was paid for by Lucius Malfoy," Harry said, "and Mr. Minister," he directed his statement to the irate politician. "You didn't even realize that you were being played for a fool." He smiled grimly. "Malfoy and his cohorts wanted you out of office. They never intended for the Marriage Law to stand. They thought the wizarding public would never allow it, but they weren't quite right on that count. They were gearing up for your removal…and, with Malfoy out of jail, they were going to seize control during that gap and take over the Ministry." Harry stopped for a moment. The crowd had gone completely silent.
"This boy was powerful enough to take on the Dark Lord…perhaps that power has gone to his head," Fudge exclaimed. "He wants to control Wizarding Britain himself!" Spittle flew from the man's mouth, as his voice became almost incoherent. "This boy has a long history of mental instability!"
Rage flooded Harry so quickly that it surprised him, and he threw back his head and laughed suddenly. He could see the doubtful looks on the faces in the crowd, as they wondered if Fudge was perhaps correct. "The papers said I was mentally unstable when I was having nightmares about Voldemort. They said I was mentally unstable when he was trying to control my mind. They said I was mentally unstable when I said he was back. But I was right!" The roar of voices was back, and Harry thought he heard some scattered applause.
"Bet it was easy to convince your old friends from the Pureblooded Alliance to go along with your scheme, wasn't it?" Harry finished coolly, holding up the photograph that he had managed to acquire. Cornelius Fudge paled visibly.
"That's a fake! Where did you get that?" he stormed.
"From the Daily Prophet," Harry said evenly. "It was restricted…I had to buy the entire company myself to get it." He looked out at the guests, who looked understandably shell-shocked. "Is this the freedom that we fought Voldemort for?" The angry rumbling was back.
"I call for a vote of no confidence," shouted a voice from the crowd, and Harry realized with a start that it was Ron. There were murmurs of assent, as the motion was seconded.
"The Wizengamot is here," Harry said, gesturing toward the group of venerable looking wizards and witches. "Let's have the vote now."
"You don't have a quorum," Fudge shouted, furiously.
"Actually, I believe we do," came Dumbledore's placid voice, as he stepped around from the far side of the pavilion, smiling amiably.
Harry beamed at the Headmaster.
The vote was taken in short order, and Fudge was escorted away ignominiously by two Aurors.
"For someone who loathes the spotlight, you sure manage to get yourself in it all the time," Ron said, coming up beside Harry suddenly. His voice was congenial, but his smile was tight.
"Ron," Harry said uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. Now that he had time to notice it, his arm still throbbed painfully. He swayed on his feet.
"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron said, a little gruffly. "You're hurt." He motioned for Ginny to join them, and they flanked him, heading for the castle. Several reporters noticed their imminent departure, and flung themselves towards the group, shouting questions. The actual words being spoken were lost in the clamor, and Harry threw one hand up against the strobing light of the cameras.
"What are you going to do about Miss Granger's baby?" one reporter shouted, the question falling quite loudly into a lull. Harry sucked in his breath suddenly, and he felt Ron stiffen beside him. He swallowed and stopped walking, but said nothing.
"Harry, is it true that you're the father of Miss Granger's baby?" the reporter repeated, sensing a story and pressing her advantage. Harry looked at Ron.
"Is that why…the - the ribbon… knew…?" he asked in a trembling voice. Ron wouldn't look at him, but nodded slowly. The reporters went nuts.
"Mr. Potter - Harry! Does that mean that you were unaware of Miss Granger's condition?" shrieked another reporter.
Harry turned slowly, searching for Hermione, ignoring the tumult that surrounded him. His eyes suddenly fell on Hogwart's, and he squinted against the late afternoon sun, thinking he had seen a glint of white flash at the entrance.
Ignoring the stabbing pain in his arm, he began to run toward the castle.
TBC
There now, we're almost done. Just a little bit more to finish everything off. I apologize if Harry seemed too William Wallace-y. He got a little carried away!
I decided to throw the baby thing in there anyway. Hope it's okay.
This chapter was a little hard for me to write… I hope you enjoyed it.
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