theDarkIsRising
The Night Will Go As Follows
4. WHY DON'T WE BREAK THE RULES ALREADY
Hermione had Apparated out of Remus’ apartment complex in a haze. She hit her knees against her sofa as she landed gracelessly in her living room. An owl gazed haughtily at her from the back of an armchair. It seemed unreal. Remus had rejected her proposal; he would be expelled and they would never see him again. Hermione pulled the scroll off the barn owl’s leg. She clutched the rolled parchment and used the other to dab uselessly at the tears on her face. The bird tilted its head at her, looking annoyed; perhaps it had been sitting there awhile.
It was the Ministry’s response to her letters. She paused before breaking the seal; it was quite odd for the Ministry to take nearly two days to return an owl. Granted she had sent it on a Sunday and the Weasley’s owl was slow, but still – the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures often worked around the clock. How could they just be replying to her now on Wednesday? She’d seen them come in on multiple weekends, whenever she worked overtime. Her own department, the Muggle Liaison Office, had a large workload cleaning up the magical mess that was England. They continued working hard to gain the trust of the Muggle Ministry again. Hermione liked her work; it was important and necessary. It made her so exhausted some days as to completely block out memories of the war, memories of the dead.
Hermione stared at the letter. Her mind was very much still with Remus and her offer to marry him. She had nearly completely ruined it. Her inability to keep her mouth shut would be death of her. She didn’t know what had come over her. Physically, she shook her head to clear it. The way he looked at her when she backed away and ran out the door – he must think I’m completely crazy. He’ll have better offers. Much better ones than some silly girl he taught as a third year. Releasing a shaky breath to calm her, Hermione unrolled the parchment:
Dear Miss Hermione Granger,
Thank you for your multiple inquiries concerning the Werewolf Reform Bill R938. At the Ministry of Magic, all laws are implemented to protect and to serve all of wizarding kind. We feel assured that this bill will aid us in doing so. At this moment, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is not releasing any addition information about Bill R938. Please consult your wizarding media – the Wizarding Wireless Network or the Daily Prophet – for official press releases from the Ministry concerning this topic.
Sincerely,
Ara Hawkwood
It was simply a form letter. Surely, Ara had not signed off on this. But Hermione wouldn’t know. She scowled down at the parchment; the Ministry wasn’t letting anyone near the Magical Creatures Department. She’d tried to stop by a couple of days ago, when she went to the Ministry on Monday, but it was nearly all roped off.
Of course, she went into work as usual that day, but she also needed to know about this law and how it ever was passed in the first place. Her sense of distress had abated, but Remus’s deadened face still haunted her. Logically, if she could just speak to someone in the department, this could all be settled; they were all sensible people. However, upon arriving to fourth level of the Ministry, a bevy of reporters were blocking the department’s entrance. There was no way she could get to the Werewolf Registry without causing a commotion. And as Harry Potter’s surviving friend, Hermione always could cause a commotion.
The reporters were shouting questions at Amos Diggory, who had risen from a clerk within the Beast Division to now running the entire department. He grinned broadly from his podium with the Ministry seal on the front. Hermione noted with disgust how proud he looked of himself.
–Diggory! Diggory!†yelled a Daily Prophet reporter. –What was the reasoning behind this bill? It has been two years since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was vanquished.â€
Hanging back at the elevators, Hermione waited for his answer. No one had noticed she had arrived. Thankfully working at the Ministry since the war had finally made her appearance there commonplace.
–Just because Voldemort,†Diggory paused, a look of pain on his face, –has been vanquished does not mean the work is done. The past two years we have worked to tidy up this department and better serve the magical creatures under our care. However, we could be better. As you know, we’ve tagged all the known centaurs and have the vampires on a regular feeding schedule. Now we needed to turn our attention to the werewolves, who have been woefully underserved. Werewolf Support Services has never been used, so more stringent measures need to be taken to regulate this particular Beast populace.â€
Hermione frowned at the use of the word ‘Beast.’ She absolutely hated how the Ministry lumped werewolves into the same category as dragons and ghouls. As if a human being with an affliction that came once a month was comparable to a fire-breathing lizard or a slimy ogre. She should have petitioned for the Magical Creatures department; this was ludicrous.
More questions were lobbed at Diggory. –What do you say to people who think these conditions are too harsh?â€
–Too harsh?†Diggory laughed good-naturedly. –Why, we are only asking them what we ask of every other witch or wizard: get a job and be a productive member of society. We are already keeping tabs on them, so this is just a natural progression in the Werewolf Registry. I admit the timeline is a bit short, but we feared waiting too long. We’ve had some grave news about several werewolves.†He looked grimly across the crowd.
–What news? What’s happened?â€
He waved the female reporter off. –Nothing the Ministry can fully divulge at this moment. Just rested assured that we picked appropriate timelines and will have these werewolves ship-shape soon.â€
–What exactly will be the punishment for any werewolf that will not follow your new guidelines?â€
–There are steps for non-compliant werewolves. If they refuse to come to the Ministry by the deadline, then they will be detained. Any unwilling to follow these simple rules, will certainly lose magical privileges. We do not wish to do so, but wand-snapping is always an option to ensure compliance. If these werewolves will not submit to Ministry law, then what right to magic do they have?â€
–Won’t that be dangerous, sir?â€
Amos Diggory grinned and touched the side of his nose. –My dear, they may not have a wand anymore, but that doesn’t mean we won’t still have a magical trace. Non-compliant werewolves in the Muggle world will still be under surveillance. I feel assured our incentive will keep most of the werewolves in compliance.†He surveyed the room, skimming over the raised hands. –I think that’s all the time we have for questions. Please send your owls to my secretary should you need to ask anything else.â€
He attempted to wave his way back to his office, but a wizard with a recording device caught up to him. –What about the rumors that some non-compliant werewolves are being taken to Azkaban?â€
Diggory turned red and spun on his heel to face the shorter wizard; his recording device was shoved under Diggory’s nose awaiting a reply. –Those slanderous rumors are unfounded. Completely, utterly rubbish.†Diggory swept away down the corridor as the reporters hit some sort of magical barrier that prevented them from following.
Hermione remained in a state of shock. Azkaban? All thoughts of getting into the department and talking it out were gone. Diggory looked so proud of himself, so assure in his plan. Merlin, what could they be playing at? Hermione was too lost in thought to notice that the reporters were starting to leave the level. She should have already been gone by now.
–Is that Hermione Granger? Is that her?â€
She saw one point her out, then several of them abandoned their attempt to get on a lift and hurried over to her.
–Miss Granger! Miss Granger!â€
Instinctively, Hermione moved for her wand, her heart pounding. Her reflexes kicked in and she nearly cursed the man closest to her. Taking a deep breath, she merely kept one hand on her wand and moved toward a lift.
–Miss Granger, what do you think about the new werewolf law? Do you have anything to say about it?â€
–No comment.†She tried to move through the crowd; her office was only one level above them. –If you’ll excuse me, I must get back to work.â€
–Don’t you have a werewolf acquaintance? Miss Granger, how will this affect him – what is his name?†the short wizard trailed off, now sticking his recording device in her face.
–Lupin,†piped up another. –Remus Lupin.â€
–Please excuse me. No comment. I need on this lift.â€
She shoved past one reporter who tried to enter it with her. Quickly, she pressed the doors closed, mashed the ‘Level 3’ button and leaned against the back of the elevator. Hermione could still see them; only the grate door separated them. Her hand still lay on her wand should they try to get any closer.
–Does he have a wife? Wait, isn’t she dead? Miss Granger! Will he comply? Will he marry?â€
–Or will he get his wand snapped?â€
–Will you ever get to see him again?â€
–Is he dangerous?â€
–What will you be doing? Are you married?â€
Thankfully, the lift finally shot off, leaving their incessant questions behind. This was worse than she feared. Much, much worse. She relaxed her grip on her wand, massaging her hand since she had gripped it so hard. What will you be doing? Their questions echoed after her. The Ministry would not be simply persuaded to drop this law. Diggory made that assured.
Thinking back, as she listened to those reporters and Diggory, Hermione felt like an ice cube dropped into her stomach. It was a familiar feeling – anytime Harry collapsed from a vision, whenever the Snatchers were at their backs. Even now, as Hermione stared down at the form letter, her stomach felt uneasy. They couldn’t even personalize a response to a Ministry official. Remus didn’t stand a chance. The owl bit her finger and flew out the window. Cursing, she dropped the letter and the handkerchief Remus had handed her. For once, Hermione was at a loss about what to do next.
She couldn’t go back to Remus. He made it very clear how he felt about the situation. Her heart constricted, and Hermione angrily crumpled up the letter, throwing into her fireplace. What more could she say to him to change his mind? I received a very disturbing form letter from the Ministry. Amos Diggory seems off his rocker. How terrifying. No, he’d rather have his wand snapped and be even worse off. So, to calm her nerves, she baked. It was silly; it was stupid. She didn’t bake before the war. Admittedly, she was a fair cook, but she had never mastered a meringue.
Pulling the milk and eggs out of her fridge, Hermione felt her hands steady. Remus had nearly nothing in his fridge, which if she accounted for his skinny appearance, must be a regular occurrence. When Molly let her cook at the Burrow, Remus wolfed down whatever was given to him. Once, he complimented a simple beef and noodle casserole. It was easy.
Hermione gazed out the window. Against the inky blackness, the waning moon hung above London. He must be starving; Hermione knew his metabolism accelerated at this time of the month. Remus needed to eat; he needed to know they were all still here for him. I promised. We promised, she thought. This month would be rough; Remus would need something chocolate. She started cutting shortening into her flour for a pie crust.
The following days were torture. Once again, Hermione broke into his apartment. He didn’t answer his door – no surprise, but when she entered, he was nowhere to be seen. She hovered over the note for a while. Honestly, she wanted to write a detailed list about how stupid he was acting, how much danger he was in, and how he needed to come to his senses. Instead, she boiled it down to simply I’m terribly sorry, Remus. For everything. It had taken her several tries to get it right. She scribbled out the rest, the rejects, the sentimental pleadings concerning love or promises.
Then she waited. Hermione went back to work and spent her day waiting there. The Ministry and all her work duties, which had been a comfort to her, now felt wrong and distracting. She kept thinking about the level directly below her and what was happening within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Her anxiety peaked in a meeting, when distracted, she broke her quill, which had been full of ink. Blushing, she profusely apologized to her colleagues and escaped from the room.
In the bathroom, she used her wand to clean off as much of the ink as she could. Her white shirt was surely ruined. Ara Hawkwood came out of a stall as Hermione washed up. Ara barely made eye contact with her before scurrying out into the hallway. Hermione tried to catch her, but Ara had already disappeared. She knows. I knew she’d never agree to this.
Hermione asked for the rest of the day off, citing a headache for her behavior and subsequent need to leave. Immediately, she Apparated to Remus’ apartment. He hadn’t said anything about the food, but it also had not reappeared at her flat, which she took to be a good sign. Tentatively, she placed her hand on the door. The metal was cold; the hallway was drafty, letting in the autumn chill. She couldn’t hear anything inside. The full moon had been last night, so he was probably sleeping. Or maybe awake, but still in his hidey hole underneath the floorboards.
–Remus?†she asked, hesitantly.
–Remus, are you in? Are you okay?â€
Silence greeted her from the other side. She might have heard a slight shuffle beneath her, but it was too faint for her to know for sure. Hermione dared not force her way inside again.
She knocked once more. When no answer came, she placed her palm against the door and whispered, –You stupid, bloody idiot.†Then she left.
The remaining days until the deadline seemed to pass slowly and quickly. Hermione agonized over his decision, but the days slipped by faster and faster. Stopping by the Burrow, she heard from Arthur that other women had proposed to Remus. Hermione swallowed thickly as she stared at him, waiting to hear what happened.
–Margie said that she feared he would bite her for asking him. Poor Suzanne Bilby – you know from the Improper Use of Magic Office – he shut the door in her face,†Arthur said.
Hermione’s heart fluttered and sped up. –Well, she did ask him around the full moon. That can make him testy.â€
Arthur smiled slightly and nodded when Molly asked if he needed more tea. –I daresay it wasn’t just the moon working on him. Don’t you agree, dear?â€
Molly looked up briefly before busying herself with her garden boots. Apparently, the gnomes were becoming a nuisance. –Hm, yes. I’m sure he has much on his mind.†She wrestled the large Wellingtons onto her feet and promptly stepped out the back door.
Biting her lower lip, Hermione swirled the tea in her mug. When she had finally told everyone what she had done – proposing to Remus – most had commended her: for her bravery, for her kindness, for her selflessness. Yet, Molly Weasley had given Hermione the queerest look and remained unusually silent on the matter. Now whenever the subject was brought up, Molly inevitably made for the nearest exit.
–You’ll have to excuse her,†Arthur said. –It was particularly hard on her, losing Ron. Now, I guess she thinks she’s losing you.â€
–What? I’m not going anywhere.â€
–Oh, we know we’ll still see you, but I think she still sees you as the daughter-in-law she never had.†He tried to give Hermione a reassuring grin. –You know how Molly is about letting go of things.â€
–I guess, I honestly figured, she objected to Remus. I didn’t think she had spoken to him recently.â€
–Well, he hasn’t spoken to anyone recently, but the issue of Remus did come up as well. You know he’s quite a bit older than you, could be your father; he’s a werewolf, which is the whole reason for the law anyway. And he’s taken to drinking quite-– Arthur stalled when he looked over at Hermione.
She was gaping at him in disbelief. –I guess it would shock everyone that I am well aware of all those points. And quite frankly, I thought we’d all be more supportive. He has as much control over being a werewolf as he does over this law. He needs someone.â€
–Hermione, I didn’t mean to say you had not thought this through. We just worry about you as well. This is a big undertaking.â€
–I know. I appreciate your concern.†She left her tea untouched at the table. –Tell Molly I said good-bye. I promised Harry I’d have supper with him.†Hermione spun out of sight before Arthur could say anything else.
At least, Harry did not give her a hard time about marrying Remus. The pub wasn’t full when she arrived, so it was easy to spot him with his messy mop of black hair. He looked dead on his feet. Apparently, it was some sort of –hell week†in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as they trained new Aurors, putting them through rigorous drills. Harry laughed as he told her that he even recruited Ginny to take a day off from Harpies practice to scare the recruits with her Reducto Curse. Hermione grinned as she listened and silently ate her fish and chips, periodically mulling over how many days were left until the deadline.
Noting her silence, Harry ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stand up. –Hermione, you might as well let it go. You did everything that you could. He’s stubborn. I’d say about as stubborn as you, so it maybe a lost cause.â€
–But we can’t let him get thrown out, have his wand snapped,†retorted Hermione.
–I don’t like it any more than you do. He’s my parents’ best mate. He’s helped us all, many times over.†He paused. –Maybe he wants this.â€
–What does that mean?â€
–I dunno. Maybe he thinks he’d be happier just living as a Muggle. Magic hasn’t done him or even any of us any favors.â€
She stabbed her piece of fish violently. –That’s rich coming from a wizard who isn’t being threatened with a wand snapping. We have to fix this; he can’t leave. I refuse to accept that.â€
–Okay,†said Harry. He readjusted his glasses and leaned in closer. –What’s your plan?â€
–Merlin, I don’t know. I’ve already proposed. He knows I would do it. But he won’t come out of his bloody apartment. He won’t talk to anyone.â€
–So if it was me, or – or – even Ron, let’s say, needing help and acting like this, what would you do?â€
–I’d throttle you,†she quipped, making Harry laugh.
–That you would, but seriously, how would you get us to go along with you?â€
–I’d make you. I’d show up and hold you hostage until you did what I wanted.â€
Harry leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. –Exactly.â€
On Sunday, Hermione put on a nice dress as she planned to get married that day. She didn’t have anything fancy. The nicest one she had was the simple red dress that she wore to Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Remus danced with her that night after Ron had swept her around the dance floor. And he had literally swept her around until the song was over, but Hermione laughed the entire time. However, Remus kept a firm grip on her waist and hand, leading her with purpose through the waltz that played. At the end, he thanked her for being such a graceful dancing partner. A blush had crept up her cheeks; no one had ever applied the word ‘graceful’ to her before. This dress would do fine.
The Ministry was busy for a Sunday. It took her far too long to get the Level Four. Her heart started to pound. What if she completely botched this and showed up late? She kept checking her watch as the lift went down and over and down again. She ran out of the doors and immediately had to shove past some ghouls that blocked the department’s doors. She shivered at their cold, clammy touch.
She scanned the entry way; it was full of centaurs and vampires. However, Hermione spotted him easily as he stood a head taller than the man next to him. He was gazing forward blankly as his rather short line moved forward. As she tried to make her way to him, a large werewolf sniffed at her and showed his teeth, and said, –Back of the line, missy. We’ve been here.â€
–I’m just going right over there.†She glanced up and saw the sign. –I’m going to the Non-Compliant Werewolf line, not this one. Now. Excuse me.†He blocked her way. –No really. Let me through.†He did not budge; he growled slightly. Hermione calmly extracted her wand from her pocket and pointed it at him. –I said, excuse me, no need to be so rude.†At the sight of her wand, the man backed off slightly, allowing her to slip around him.
Grabbing Remus, she forcefully dragged him toward the Werewolf Marriage and Occupation Registry. He muttered protests against her actions and tried to get back into his own line. It was all going so well until he looked down at her with disapproval and called her –Miss Granger.†Her heart felt leaden as he continually tried to shake her off and get back into his old line, the one that would leave him wandless and a Muggle. It had been a long time since she had felt herself sink to the bottom; it had not been since the War, since Ron died. Her rock bottom was in that cemetery, crying over her dead boyfriend. She vowed never to return.
–You promised,†she said fiercely to Remus. –We promised each other.â€
He grew very quiet, very contemplative. He no longer tried to wriggle out of her grasp. She let loose of his cloak and let her wand go slack. Turning to her, he gazed into her eyes with an unreadable expression. –Yes,†he said, barely above a whisper. –Yes, I remember the promise.†Then he took her hand. It felt unnaturally hot against her skin. Remus turned back to the magistrate and said, –I believe I’m in the right line this time.â€
–Good, well, glad that’s all decide,†the magistrate said. He squinted at the two and motioned for them to get closer. –Clasp hands, you two, clasp hands. We haven’t got all day.â€
Hermione reached for his empty hand. Remus shook his head ‘no,’ which startled her. Was he backing out, after he already agreed?
–It’s all right,†he said softly. –We just need to switch hands. The ceremony requires it to be exact.†Then he took her left hand in his left and her right hand in his right. Their arms were crisscrossed over one another. –We’re making a knot,†he explained to her confused expression. –Unbroken and united.â€
Her mind was foggy. Hermione wanted to complain that the arm-knot ritual had been absent from the wizarding marriage book she read or else she would have been prepared for that. Then her heart began to pound as the magistrate began reciting the vows. She found herself stumbling over them, despite the fact she looked them up a few days ago. Wizard vows were short, only a sentence and she could barely say it.
–Remus Lupin, I am bound to you, united to you, to honor and to cherish in joy and sorrow until my life ends and my magic leaves me.â€
She couldn’t read his expression. He took a deep breath and repeated the same vows back to her. His voice was low, despite the rather loud group standing directly behind them. She imagined only she could properly hear what he was saying. His eyes locked on hers and his gripped tightened on her hands. –Hermione Granger, I am bound to you, united to you, to honor and to cherish in joy and sorrow until my life ends and my magic leaves me.â€
He did not break from looking at her face until the magistrate cleared his throat and Remus seemed to take a deep breath and resurface to the world around them. He gazed around, looking at the other werewolves and the Ministry officials looking at them. Hermione watched as he slipped away from the moment. He became impassive again and she wished he would look at her again, if even for a moment.
–Splendid. I now pronounce you man and wife.†Hermione began to release Remus’ hands, but he squeezed his around hers and held them in place. A golden light shot out from the magistrate’s wand and wrapped around their crisscrossed arms. It hovered before sinking into their skin, leaving faint glittery trains along their hands before disappearing completely. Hermione felt her skin prick and tingle. Only after the light dissipated did Remus finally let go of her hands. The magistrate gave a short clap and signed a marriage certificate. He handed it to Remus and began filling out another. After a beat, he looked at them, as if surprised they were still there.
–Congratulations and all that. Do you want to kiss? Some of the Muggleborns do that sort of thing.â€
Hermione, in the moment, had forgotten about that detail. She felt herself blush. Remus looked stricken; he glanced at her sideways, his head turning slightly, looking scared as to what her answer to that would be. The thought of kissing Remus at all, much less in front of all these strangers, turned her head around. Her stomach liquefied with fear and some other notion that she did not have time to register.
–Um, no, that’s quite all right. We’ll just go ahead and go then.â€