Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: All Praise and much thanks to my betas, Alienor and Septentrion, for their kind words, hard work and help.

They couldn't have been that careless, could they? Hermione stared at the book in horror.

'Well?' Ginny asked.

Slowly, Hermione turned towards her two friends. With the book floating open in front of her, she carefully peeled apart the two pages that had somehow stuck together. Luna and Ginny, now equally horrified, moved to stand either side of Hermione so they could see just how badly they had messed up. Dreading what she would find, Hermione quickly scanned over the pages they had missed:

... to show his heart is of pure intent,

Etyrnal Lauelte is the Charm for you...

Hermione's mind was reeling as she tried to assess the damage and consider the implications, but Luna beat her to it.

'We've managed to combine a potion to find a man we'll want to give a solemn promise to with a Charm that ensures eternal loyalty and devotion. The flowers in combination symbolised longing, eternal and true love. Ginny was specific in her request; but I'm guessing that your verse ending with 'til death do us part,' somehow sealed the troth plighting...' She trailed off, staring into space.

Hermione nodded since she had been thinking along similar lines, had come to the same conclusion and was at a complete loss as to how to proceed. They had created what appeared to be a life-long, watertight, magically binding betrothal contract. This was a balls-up of epic proportions.

The boys had been silent up until this point, but now, sensing the scale of the disaster, they began to all talk at once:

'Doesn't change anything, Gin...'

'If you think I'm marrying you, you're even madder than you look...'

'I'll go all the way to the Wizengamot if I have to...'

They moved towards the girls. Harry reached for Ginny's hand; the other two tried to grab the book to examine the evidence with their own eyes.

'It wasn't a trick, Draco,' Luna pleaded. 'I wasn't even thinking of you.'

'That goes for me, too, Ron.' Hermione touched her ex's arm gently. Ron recoiled, throwing her hand off as if scalded. This hurt Hermione more than she was prepared to admit. 'Do you think, perhaps, your father could find a solution...?' But Ron wasn't looking at her. She followed his gaze to...

'Ginny?'

Hermione stared open mouthed as Ginny pouted and fluttered her eyelashes at Harry while lewdly running her tongue around her lips and thrusting her chest out.

'Oh, ye-sss, Gin. I love it when you do that.'

'Harry, mate, what do you think you're doing?'

'Gorgeous, isn't she?' Harry replied, rubbing his crotch and ogling Ginny. 'Sucks cock like a pro, too.'

'That's my sister you're talking about, you perve!'

Realising what was happening, Hermione moved quickly between Ginny and Harry to break their eye-contact. It seemed they had failed to take into account the aphrodisiacal nature of the Sweet Flag. If they couldn't control this side-effect, they'd be in big trouble. There had to be a way of neutralising it, but at the moment it was just another unwelcome complication.

'What...? Harry?'

'It's all right, Ginny.' Hermione grabbed Ginny's shoulders and attempted to reassure her. 'Try not to look directly at Harry, okay?'

'What the hell was that all about?' Draco had been watching the scene in dumb fascination and could no longer contain his curiosity.

Hermione turned to answer him only to find herself locking eyes with Ron. It suddenly seemed very hot in the room. Surely she didn't need to be wearing all these clothes? Hermione giggled at Ron's lustful expression as she undid the fastenings on her robe.

'Like what you see, Ronniekins?'

'Yeah,' Ron replied. 'Got to hand it to you, Hermione. Those tits make Lavender's look like two eggs in a handkerchief.'

'RON!'

He ignored his sister and leered at Hermione. 'Been missing Mr Porky, have you?'

Fortunately, Hermione was spared the embarrassment of having to answer the question as Ginny chose that moment to give her a sharp slap across the face.

'Ow.' Hermione shook herself, noticed she was showing rather a lot more cleavage than she would have liked and quickly covered herself up. 'Thanks for that, Ginny.'

'Any time.'

'At the risk of repeating myself,' drawled a bored voice, 'would one of you morons explain to me what the fuck is going on?'

'It's the green goo.' All eyes turned to Luna. 'We've all either got some on ourselves or touched someone who has.'

'Luna,' Hermione warned. 'Don't look at Malfoy.'

But it was no good. Luna had already hitched her robe up past her knees. 'Draco,' she whispered huskily, 'would you like to see my fa...'

'NO! Put it away, Lovegood, for God's sake!'

'Hmm...' Hermione chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully as Ginny went to Luna's rescue. 'You don't seem to be affected, Malfoy, even though you have some of the potion on your sleeve, I notice. Why is that...?'

Draco shrugged. 'No idea.'

'Might be nothing... Then again... it might provide a clue that could get us all out of this sorry mess.'

Harry and Ron looked at him quizzically.

Draco stared back. 'What?'

The boys said nothing.

'All right, all right.' Draco sighed and threw his hands up in defeat. 'I'm gay. Satisfied?'

Harry and Ron took an involuntary step backwards.

'Told you,' Ron said under his breath. 'That's ten Galleons you owe me.'

Draco clenched his fists in fury. 'That is it! I've had it up to here with you lot.' He threw open the door. 'You two can carry on making goo-goo eyes and playing pocket billiards for the rest of your lives for all I care. I'm going to see my father. He's going to have something to say about this.' He turned to Luna, shielding his face from her. 'I'd never thought I'd say this, Lovegood, but you're the sanest person in the room. Perhaps you can keep your friends from mauling each other long enough to break that love/lust... thing before I see you again. I do not want a repeat performance of-of... that!' Pulling his cloak around him, he nodded curtly at Hermione and Ginny before flouncing out of the room.

'Good luck, Draco,' Luna called after him. 'Tell your father I don't want to marry you, either.'

~ * ~

Nervously, the house-elf poured the vintage port from the decanter under the critical eye of his master, but for once, Lucius Malfoy's attention was elsewhere. He had listened to his son and heir's tale of woe with a growing sense of incredulity, and once he had got over the initial shock, a keen ear for the potentially advantageous political, not to mention personal, opportunity it afforded. He tapped an immaculately manicured forefinger thoughtfully against his lips. Yes, it would pay dividends in spades if he played his cards right. But now Draco was looking at him in that annoying way he had when things went tits up and dear old Dad was expected to pluck his trophies out of the fire. Well, not this time.

'I have no objection to the match,' Lucius said after a long silence.

Whatever Draco had been expecting his father to say, that was definitely not it.

'You WHAT?'

Ignoring his son's outburst, Lucius picked up his wine glass by the stem and examined the purpley-red colour of its contents in the candlelight. Perfect. Unhurriedly, he took a sip, savouring the rich taste on his tongue and sighed in pleasure. 'Draco, it has not escaped my attention that you have yet to show the slightest interest in the fair sex.'

'Father, I've been rather busy this past year, in case you hadn't noticed.'

Lucius' upper lip curled slightly. 'That is beside the point. I have long suspected that there is a... how can I put this delicately... a touch of the lavender about you, Draco...and I don't mind that...'

'You don't? I mean...'

Smiling at his son's unintentional confession, Lucius dismissed the house-elf. 'You wouldn't be the first and now, thanks to this contract, I am assured you won't be the last Malfoy to be that way inclined.'

Draco's heart sank. 'You want me to produce an heir.'

'Of course...and a spare if at all possible. And I'm afraid you'll need a witch to do that.' Lucius leaned forward in his chair. 'Miss Lovegood is a pureblood...'

'She's bonkers.'

Lucius tutted. 'That is no way to talk about the future Mrs Malfoy. Anyway, eccentricity is to be expected in a family such as ours...if not encouraged.'

'Don't you think Aunt Bella was enough of an 'eccentric' for this family for a generation or ten?'

'Bellatrix was a member of your mother's family, Draco. Nothing to do with us.' Lucius took another sip of port. 'Now, to business. What do the other couples embroiled in this... fiasco intend doing about it?'

Draco shrugged. 'Potter and Ginevra Weasley are going along with it, but her brother and Granger will probably oppose it. Why?'

'I see. Interesting...' Lucius' mind went into overdrive. 'No doubt Arthur will stick his two Sickles in... Well, we can't allow that to happen. I won't let old Xenophilius use it as a precedent to ruin my son's happiness...or my chances of having a grandson or two, come to that.'

'Sorry, Father, you've lost me.'

Sighing, Lucius sat back in his chair and briefly closed his eyes. Why did he always have to spell things out? 'I backed the wrong horse, Draco. The fortunes of this family are at an all time low; the Dark Lord is no more, and we are in a vulnerable position. We may expect a visit from the Aurors at any time, despite your mother's involvement in saving Potter's life...' He paused. 'That said, the situation is not completely unsalvageable. I still have money tucked away, debts to call in...even now, I am not without influence.' Lucius took another sip of his port before continuing. 'This is a time to retrench, my boy: take stock, lick our wounds, swallow our pride and make new alliances...'

Draco pointed his wand at the firewhisky decanter and helped himself to a large one. He could feel a headache coming on. 'And me getting married would be one way of doing that?'

'Quite.' Relieved that his plan was not being met with outright opposition, Lucius refrained from commenting on the plebeian way his son was knocking back his best whisky. 'Marriage is about founding dynasties...forging bonds of blood between families... consolidating wealth, social status and so forth. Did you think all of this...' he waved an elegant hand airily '... was a result of generations of Malfoys following their hearts?'

Draco shook his head. 'No. Of course not. But...'

'But nothing.' Lucius got up and refilled his glass the old-fashioned way. Port this good needed to be treated with respect. 'Love matches are for Muggles...and Mudbloods. It is not, nor ever has been, our way.'

'I know...' Draco stared into the bottom of his glass. 'I know... So... How did you feel when your marriage was arranged?'

'Resentful at first, certainly,' Lucius admitted, carefully replacing the stopper in the decanter. 'But while it is true that your mother and I were not romantically in love, I have come to both admire and respect her...in fact, I am inordinately fond of her, and there is no reason why the same could not be true for you and your wife, given time.'

Draco snorted.

'Draco,' Lucius sighed as he turned to face his son, 'your life will be relatively unaffected. You would still be able to have your lovers...this contract only enforces a bond of fidelity on the witch. You may do as you please...'

'Yes, but Luna Lovegood? What possible advantage is there in marrying her?'

A wicked smile graced Lucius' lips. 'Miss Lovegood's father, as you know, is the editor of a scurrilous rag which is doing its level best to send me to Azkaban for being a Death Eater. I think it is high time there was a change in editorial policy, don't you?' He watched Draco's face as realisation finally dawned.

'Oh...'

'You must understand, Draco,' Lucius' voice dropped to a whisper, 'that I am prepared to move heaven and earth to restore the reputation and position of this family in pureblood society. All I am asking from you is that you marry...that your betrothed is a friend of Potter is an added bonus.'

'You're not going to ask me to make friends with him as well, are you?'

'Have you not listened to a word I've said?' Lucius hissed. 'We have to make 'friends' with the winning side...in as much as it suits our purposes, anyway.'

'Yes, I was listening,' Draco replied. 'And I understood you perfectly. I have to bed a witch, produce an heir and suck up to Harry bloody Potter!'

'Good,' said Lucius, choosing to ignore the anger in his son's voice. 'I'm glad to hear it. Now, what else was there? Oh, yes. Remember also that, as the injured party in this affair, you will be able to ensure the terms of the marriage are favourable to us. Naturally, you will bring your bride here after the wedding...where she will set up home. Perhaps this is as good an excuse as any to redecorate the East Wing?'

'Father, I hate to point out the basic flaw in your little scheme, but before you incarcerate me with Loony Lovegood in the East Wing, there is still the small fact that I don't like witches. I can't, you know... do it with... girls.'

'A minor detail, dear boy.' Lucius chuckled. 'It's nothing that some first class pornography and an erection potion can't sort out before you have to do the deed... Don't look so shocked. How do you think you were conceived?'

~ * ~

'Thank you for seeing me, Kingsley...Minister. I-oh, dear...' Arthur stared at the mountain of paperwork on the Minister of Magic's desk. 'I'm sorry. I can see you're really busy...'

'Not at all, not at all,' Kingsley Shacklebolt replied. 'I'm just sorting out some of the junk left by my er... predecessor.' Kingsley indicated a chair that was relatively free of clutter. 'Please. Sit. What can I do for you?'

Arthur moved the chair closer to the Minister's desk and sat down. 'It's a family matter. Ron and Hermione...'

'Splendid! And how are the happy couple?' Kingsley beamed.

'Well, that's just it. They're...'

'Just what the country needs,' Kingsley interrupted. 'What better way to cheer us all up after a war than the weddings of Harry Potter and his friends. I couldn't be more pleased for you all.'

'Well, I'm afraid there's a bit of a problem.' Arthur tried again. 'While Harry and Ginny are very keen on the idea, Ron and Hermione can barely stand to be in the same room as each other.'

'Cold feet, eh?' Kingsley pointed his wand at a pile of parchment. 'Incendio!'

'I'm afraid it's much more serious than that,' Arthur replied, brushing the ashes off the sleeve of his robe. 'My son is in love with someone else and...this being a magical engagement, as you know...is unable to break his ties with Hermione. I was wondering if there was any chance that you might...'

Kingsley slowly shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Arthur. I've just had to turn down a similar request from Xeno Lovegood.' He picked up his quill, put his name to a piece of parchment and threw it into the out tray. 'You see,' he continued, 'I would have to involve the Wizengamot in order to annul those contracts, and they're at full stretch prosecuting war criminals...and dealing with people seeking restitution from the atrocities committed by Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I can't trouble them with something as trivial as this...it would look like favouritism towards an old friend. And as I have just taken office...'

Arthur sighed and scratched his head. 'I understand, and I'm sorry to have to ask, but after all they did, all the sacrifices they made, surely they deserve some personal happiness?'

Kingsley appeared to consider this. 'But from what I understood, young Ronald and Hermione Granger were virtually engaged, anyway. Perhaps, if they could be persuaded to sit down and discuss it, they might come round. You know what teenagers are like, falling in and out of love every five minutes.'

'It seems they may have no other option.' Arthur shook his head sadly. 'You were my last hope.'

'I wish I could help you, I really do,' Kingsley said, pulling another stack of old documents out of a drawer. 'But even if I did bring the case before the Wizengamot, have you thought about the possibility that it might prosecute Ginny and her friends for entrapment...you know how contrary that lot can be when they feel like it. They could end up even worse off.'

'No, I hadn't thought of that,' Arthur conceded. 'And of course, you're right. And the press would have a field day.'

'That's very likely.' Kingsley coughed. 'Talking of which... There is one other, er... small matter I would like to discuss with you before you go.' He handed Arthur a copy of the latest edition of Witch Weekly.

'Ah.' Arthur glanced at the cover and read: '"What First Attracted Me To The Millionaire Harry Potter: Ginevra Weasley Tells All".'

'No, no, not that,' said Kingsley, waving his hand impatiently. 'Further down.'

Arthur tried again. '"Hermione Granger: The Plight Of House-Elves And Other Enslaved Magical Beings. A Rita Skeeter Exclusive"?'

'Yes, that's the one.' Kingsley steepled his fingers and leant his elbows on the desk. 'This is rather a... delicate situation,' he began. 'Now, while Hermione is to be applauded for her, how shall I put it, revolutionary zeal, in reality the wizarding world would be plunged into financial chaos if we were to release the elves from their bondage right now. And, more importantly, such a move would interfere with my mission to heal the rifts between the various factions of wizarding society. To put it bluntly, Arthur, we cannot afford to further alienate the old pureblood families...we need their backing and support in order to build a stable future for us all.'

'And... what are you expecting me to do about it?'

Kingsley shrugged. 'She will be your daughter-in-law... and I'm afraid, it might reflect badly on you...' He stared at an interesting stain on the carpet.

'I see,' said Arthur. 'And... I wonder... Would my recent promotion be affected if I did not dissuade her?'

Kingsley couldn't look him in the eye. 'I am advising you as a friend to be careful. Your entire family distinguished themselves with honour during the war, and it is time for you all to reap the rewards for your bravery and loyalty. Don't wreck it.'

Staring incredulously at his old friend, Arthur got to his feet. 'It seems you have what it takes to be a fine politician, Minister.' He bowed stiffly. 'Thank you for your time.'

Feeling lower than a Flobberworm, Kingsley watched his old friend leave his office. Arthur did not look back. 'I suppose you heard all that, Malfoy?'

'You handled that very well, Minister,' Lucius replied, emerging from an adjoining room.

'That was probably one of the meanest things I've ever had to do in my life.'

'What nonsense.' Lucius walked around the desk and sat down in the seat recently vacated by Arthur. 'You acted for the greater good, putting the country before personal attachments.'

'Your greater good, you mean,' Kingsley retorted. 'Don't let's beat about the bush.' He slumped back in his chair, sighing heavily. 'Those poor young people...I've just condemned two war heroes to a loveless marriage. They deserve better than that...much better.'

'Don't be so hard on yourself. They'll soon get used to the idea once they realise they have no alternative. And just think, the public will go wild when the arrangements are formally announced...it will be like a double Royal wedding.' Lucius wagged a finger. 'You must use the opportunity for all it's worth...be sure to announce any tough measures you have in store at the same time...that way, they will get lost in all that warmth and good will.'

'Tough measures?' Kingsley repeated. 'What tough measures? I've done all you asked, Malfoy. Everything recorded in the Ministry regarding your erstwhile... activities has been destroyed...and Arthur Weasley knows where his bread's buttered as far as the house-elf issue is concerned. I assure you, nothing will be done to free the elves while I am in office. So, what else are you after?'

'Minister, you wound me,' Lucius mocked, putting his hand over his heart. 'Like you, I am only interested in what is best for wizardkind in this country.'

Kingsley held out his hand. 'Then give me the negatives.'

'As soon as I am assured that my family will be immune from prosecution, I shall deliver them personally.' Lucius rose gracefully from his seat. 'But now you must excuse me. As much as I've enjoyed our little chat, I have a luncheon engagement with the Chief Mugwump elect, and it would not do to keep him waiting. Good Day, Minister.'

Kingsley walked Lucius to the door but did not offer him his hand. Once the door had closed, he leant against the doorframe, banged his fist on the wood and let out a small grunt of frustration. 'The more things change, the more they bloody well stay the same.'

It wasn't meant to be like this. He was supposed to be a new broom, and putting that slippery bastard in chains had been high on his list of priorities. Imperius Curse, my arse. It was all too blatantly obvious that Voldemort could never have risen to a position of power without the backing of families like the Malfoys. The man had blood on his hands.

But Kingsley still had a job to do, and as much as it pained him, he would have to let Malfoy slip through the net in order to do it. Grimacing, he returned to his desk, took out the envelope from the top drawer and shook out its contents. The photographs were totally innocent: just him and Minerva McGonagall on the floor in the Burrow laughing...even if Minerva was showing rather a lot of tartan underwear. But Malfoy was right. Somehow, he didn't think 'We were only limbo dancing' would be the headline on the front page of the Daily Prophet if Rita Skeeter ever got hold of them. It would more likely be 'Sordid Affair at Ottery St Catchpole: Minister of Magic and Hogwarts' Headmistress in drunken orgy shock'. Angrily, he drew his wand and blasted the photographs to bits.

No, being in Lucius Malfoy's pocket was definitely not the way Kingsley Shacklebolt had intended to begin his tenure as Minister for Magic.

~ * ~

Molly Weasley was secretly elated, despite the glum faces around her kitchen table. Two good matches. She tried her best not to smile, but her daughter had snagged the most eligible bachelor in wizarding Britain, and she couldn't be happier for her. Yes, her Ginny was set up for life: she'd never have to scrimp and save; her children would never have to make do with hand-me-downs. And as for Ron, well... Hermione was good for him, whatever his feelings for her at the moment...and that Lavender had been far too flashy for her liking. Her youngest boy had always been lacking in self-confidence and in need of constant encouragement. His wife would have to be someone who would give him a bit of a push from time to time, otherwise he'd never make anything of himself in the world...and Hermione was more than capable of doing just that. Molly gazed affectionately at her prospective daughter-in-law. True, she could be a bit opinionated and spent far too much time with her nose in a book than was healthy for a girl of her age, but once the children started arriving, she'd be cured of that. Grandchildren. It was all Molly could do not to rub her hands in glee.

'Would any of you like some cake?' she asked.

They all shook their heads. Now, that was worrying. Ron was not one to turn down chocolate cake...and neither was Hermione, come to that. Molly decided not to push it; Arthur would be home soon. Then they could start making wedding plans.

Hermione stared at the piece of parchment that was hanging over her future like the Sword of Damocles, vainly hoping that some loophole would magically reveal itself. 'You know,' she muttered, not looking up, 'in the Muggle world, it takes two people to enter into a contract to make it legally binding. Neither of us signed this thing. Why should we have to abide by it?' She grabbed the offending document, tore it up and threw the scraps into the air. The pieces circled around her head for a moment before reassembling themselves. Restored to its former state, the contract floated back down to the table.

'Because,' Molly replied, pouring the tea, 'in the wizarding world, a magically created contract is just that. You've bound yourself to Ron for life...unless, of course, the Wizengamot decrees otherwise. Now, dear, are you sure you wouldn't like some cake?'

'You had to go and mention death in your stupid rhyme, didn't you?' It was the first complete sentence Ron had spoken to Hermione since The Incident. 'We can't even get divorced.'

'How was I to know the effect it would have?' Hermione replied. 'And, as I've already told you I don't know how many times, I wasn't thinking about you.'

'Luna was thinking of Neville,' Ginny offered, 'and she got Draco.'

'Who were you thinking about?' Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. 'No one in particular. More a sort of... ideal. But... oh!' She covered her mouth in horror. 'I did think about how much I wanted to strangle Ron.'

'Well, there you go,' said Ron. 'There's your answer.'

Hermione turned and looked at him directly. Feeling the desire to rip his clothes off, she reached into her pocket, pulled out a small phial and swallowed the contents. The craving quickly subsided.

'All right?' Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded. The potion was effective but temporary. She had soon realised that the Plight Trothing Potion had created a state of intense longing, in addition to the more obvious aphrodisiacal effects, which was growing harder for her to resist. The only real cure was to sign the contract and give into the urge. Ginny and Harry had already done this and were now back to normal. Or at least, Hermione thought, as normal as two people madly in love could be.

She had observed them closely over the past few days, noting how they seemed to glow in each other's presence. Hermione did not feel that way about Ron...she had never felt that way about Ron and she very much doubted that she ever would feel that way about Ron. And yet, here they were. Stuck with each other for life.

The whoosh in the Floo announced Arthur's arrival. Five heads turned to him expectantly.

He shook his head. 'I'm sorry. I tried, but Kingsley...'

Hermione put her head in her hands. 'There has to be some way,' she wailed. 'Can't the charm be broken?'

Arthur removed his cloak and threw it in the general direction of the coat rack. 'Bill said there was no way he knew of separating the charm from the potion. So, no, I'm afraid it can't.'

Ron sighed. 'I never thought I'd say this, but I wish Snape was still alive. I bet he could have sorted this out. '

'Perhaps...' Hermione agreed. 'Although, even if he could have helped us, that doesn't mean he would have.'

'I'd have licked his boots if I'd had to.'

Hermione privately thought she'd lick a lot more than that, but then shook herself. What on earth was she thinking? 'Okay... How about this. Do we have to actually live together as husband and wife? I mean, we could get married, and then you could go off with Lavender, if you like. I don't care.'

There was a sharp intake of breath from the Weasleys.

'Are you nuts?' Ron yelled. 'Of course we can't do that. What do you take me for...What do you take Lavender for?'

'Do you really want me to answer that?'

'Hermione, dear.' Molly's voice was gentle but firm. 'I don't know how Muggles view marriage, but in our world we take it very seriously. You two are bound; your magic is interwoven with Ron's, and you will never be happy when you're apart from him for any length of time. You have no choice other than to make a go of it, so I suggest you stop bickering and try to resolve your differences. Starting now.'

'I meant what I said, Ron,' Hermione insisted. 'I'm offering you a way out.'

Ron snorted. 'Lavender is a lady. She'd never consent to being a bit on the side or to have children without a ring on her finger.'

'And besides,' Arthur butted in, sitting down at the table, 'where would such an, er... arrangement leave you? You see, the contract enforces a bond of fidelity on the woman...no other man will be able to so much as touch you outside the family.'

'What?' Hermione cried. 'Even though Ron could carry on as if nothing had happened?'

'In a word, yes.'

'Well, isn't that convenient.'

Ron sighed deeply. 'Hermione, we can't fight this. I promise you I will abide by my marriage vows, but I have one condition to add to the contract. I want a large family...'

'What about my career?' she protested. 'What about my NEWTs?'

'You can take your NEWTs, if you want to,' Ron replied, 'but you'll be too busy looking after our children to have a career...at least until they go to Hogwarts...and you'll home school them before that, of course.'

Hermione swallowed. 'How-how many children are you talking about, Ron?'

'At least... seven.'

Hermione thought she was going to faint.

'There is something else.' All eyes turned to Arthur. 'I don't know how to say this, Hermione, but I will be straight with you. The Minister made it very clear that my job...and Ron's future career...would be in jeopardy if you continue in your campaign for the liberation of the house-elves. I have to insist for the sake of my family that you never meddle in anything political.'

'But-but, I want to become a lawyer.'

'I'm afraid that's out of the question,' said Arthur.

'Cheer up, dear,' Molly said, smiling. 'We have your wedding to plan...'

'I want the least fuss possible,' Hermione said, cutting Molly off before she got into her stride. 'Seeing as we are already bound, a marriage ceremony is just a legal formality, and in any case, I see nothing to celebrate.'

'But, it's the happiest day of a young girl's life,' Molly spluttered.

Hermione just looked at her future mother-in-law as if she were deranged. 'Not mine, Mrs Weasley. Not mine.'