Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Kingsley Shacklebolt ground his teeth together as he glowered at the ever-multiplying pile of parchment on his desk. For every sheet that vanished from his outbox, at least another two arrived in his inbox.

"Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork," he ranted under his breath. "Always more Merlin-forsaken paperwork."

And he'd thought the amount of bureaucracy was bad in the Aurory...He forced eyes glazed with boredom to focus and skimmed through yet another pointless form, scribbled his signature and dropped the parchment into his outbox. Pity the things didn't vanish in a puff of smoke, or he might have been able to fool himself into thinking that the confounded red tape burned to a satisfying crisp.

He sighed heavily and reached for the next worthless scrap of parchment in his inbox. His breath caught. Surely not?! But it was! Merlin be praised, there was only one more form! For the first time in far too long – or was it ever? – he would be home on time. Gawain had been able to monopolise far too much of Rolanda's time. The Head of the Aurors had far less bloody paperwork than the Minister; Gawain Robards was a lucky sod.

But today, Kingsley might just be home first. Time alone with his Hooch and finest Firewhisky sounded good...

Thump.

The form crumpled in his tightly clenched fist as Kingsley stared, horrified, at the pile of parchment that had replaced it. Unless he was hallucinating, it brushed the ceiling.

A strangled whimper escaped him. He pointed his wand at the pile, the tip trembling as his hand shook with barely contained rage.

"Incendio!"

Nothing happened.

"Fucking hell! Completely inefficient mess of bureaucratic filth, all for the 'personal attention of the Minister', and it's warded to match the security of the archives? Fuck this. I'm going home."

Kingsley pushed away from his desk, ignoring the crash as his chair upended. He stormed over to the fireplace and had a pinch of Floo powder in his hand, when the form still crumpled in his other hand tried to unfold itself.

Disgusted, he dropped it. There was no way in hell that he was taking any work home.

The Floo powder fell from his fingers in a drizzle of sparkling green as red letters on the form caught his eye as it fluttered to the floor. Red letters spelling out the name of the wizarding prison.

He bent down to pick it up. He read it through. Unable to believe his eyes, he read it through again.

"Fuck, no," Kingsley muttered, and reached for another pinch of Floo powder. He threw it into the fireplace and bellowed the name of the current Head of Magical Law Enforcement. "Andromeda Tonks!"

* * *

"Tell me, Andromeda, why do I find a form requesting the transferral of a prisoner from Ministry holding cells to Azkaban to await trial?" Kingsley righted his chair and sat down again behind his desk.

Andromeda sank down into the seat opposite him. She looked about as tired as he felt. "Procedure, Kingsley. A pain, but one I am required to follow. Why the Ministry architects can't simply alter the plans to include more cells, I do not know."

"Something for me to follow up," Kingsley muttered. He eyed the towering stack in his inbox. "When I don't have quite so much on my plate." He shook himself. "Beside the point. I know the procedure, we were both part of the Wizengamot session that put it into place."

"What you want to know is why Severus Snape is the prisoner in question," Andromeda stated, inspecting her fingernails nonchalantly.

"Indeed. Particularly when the infraction stated is against legislation which isn't enforced yet." Kingsley arranged his quills with equal nonchalance.

"You may well ask. But the law is clear that it is retroactive to include this month. My hands are tied, Kingsley."

"I'm sure they are." Kingsley raised his head to meet Andromeda's dispassionate gaze. "But are you quite sure of your impartiality on this matter?"

There was a spark of emotion behind that mask. "No less impartial than you."

"That good, huh?" He sighed heavily. "Dromeda, you know that Severus had nothing to do with Ted's death."

"I know that!" she snapped, irritation increasing her likeness to her unlamented late sister. "Snape's arrest had nothing to do with me; it was an automatic order processed by the results of his check up at St Mungo's. As far as I'm concerned, I would like nothing more than to get him out of my hair."

"In which case you will have no problem with my refusal to sign this." He jabbed the form with a dismissive finger.

"Putting him in Azkaban would get him out of my hair," Andromeda grumbled. "And you're one to talk about impartiality."

Best keep to the impartial arguments, then... "The man's a war hero! We don't need that sort of bad press."

"Unless we kept it quiet..."

Kingsley goggled at her as if she belonged in the Janus Thickey ward. "Do you really think there is any way to keep it from his wife? The Hermione Granger?"

Andromeda rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "It wasn't a serious suggestion, Kingsley. I'm well aware of the rights of prisoners, that spouses are to be informed within twenty-four hours of arrest. In fact, I was about to let her know in person when you called."

Kingsley leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "As far as I'm concerned there's no need – simply release Severus Snape."

"I would if I could," Andromeda ground the words out between clenched teeth. "While it may not be a crime to be sterile, it is to attempt to evade the procreative elements of the marriage law. After Snape's check up at St Mungo's resulted in exactly the same problems as Malfoy senior, we had no choice but to arrest him. There's too much coincidence."

"Perhaps, but is there any proof of foul play?" Kingsley had the nasty sensation that he was grasping at straws, unable to put his finger on the cause of the sensation.

"No. But it will be equally difficult to prove Snape's innocence. He's the most talented living potions Master; who knows what he's capable of?"

Oh yes, that was why. What had Severus got him into now?

BOOM. CLANG.

The thick dust choking the room was taken care of by a quick charm from both Kingsley and Andromeda.

Standing in the open doorway, the door blasted off its hinges at her feet, was Hermione Granger, her wand pointed directly at Kingsley's chest, the tip glowing with barely contained sparks.

"Where's my husband?" she demanded, her voice far too calm. Dangerously so. Kingsley swallowed hard.

"Hello to you too, Hermione. Do come in, have a seat." He Conjured another chair as casually as he could when held at wand point.

Hermione stepped over the door, her wand unwavering in her hand as she walked to the chair. Her eyes never left him, darkened with...what? Anger? Worry? Both?

"You do know how to make an entrance, dear, but might I suggest you put the wand down? Before the Aurors arrive?"

At Andromeda's words, Hermione glanced over at her. She flinched, all colour leached from her face, her eyes wide. She looked as if she'd seen a – well, not a ghost, but someone back from the dead.

Andromeda, her face creased with concern, started to rise from her chair, leaning towards Hermione.

"No! Stay back!" Her wand now pointed at Andromeda, Hermione's voice and hand shook.

Realisation dawned. Kingsley exchanged a glance with Andromeda. Of course, shortly before V-Voldemort's defeat, Bellatrix had duelled Hermione among others.

"I'm not my sister, Hermione," Andromeda said firmly. "Andromeda, not Bellatrix. We've met before, remember?"

Hermione said nothing. By the look of her grey-tinged face, she was on the verge of fainting. Her eyes rolled back and her wand dropped from her hand.

"Shit," Andromeda hissed, and darted forward to catch Hermione before she could hit the floor.

"Heavier than she looks," she grunted, and gently lowered her burden to the polished marble floor. She gave Kingsley an impatient wave of her hand. "Get over here. I'm obviously not the best sight for her to wake up to."

Kingsley did as he was bid and knelt down. "I don't get it. Why such a strong reaction when she only duelled Bellatrix?"

"How such an idiot managed to become Minister I don't know," Andromeda muttered, no doubt deliberately within his hearing range. "Obviously there's more to it than that. You wake her up and I'll deal with the draught." She pointed to the gaping doorway.

"Rennervate." Kingsley leaned over Hermione, hoping to block her view of the woman behind him.

Hermione groaned, her eyes blinking open. She raised herself up on her elbows, and froze when she caught sight of Andromeda. She looked between her and Kingsley. "Bellatrix is dead," she murmured, as if to convince herself of that fact.

The door back in place, Andromeda walked back, warily eyeing Hermione.

"I'm not about to faint," Hermione assured them. "Once was quite enough." She sat up.

"Glad to hear it. Care to explain why you fainted? I'm used to people flinching when they see me, especially women as it hasn't been so long for us thanks to the plague, but fainting? That's a new one." Andromeda turned to Kingsley. "And you might want to cancel the security alert before Aurors gatecrash."

"Sometimes I wonder why I'm the Minister," Kingsley muttered under his breath. He brightened at the idea of his load of paperwork on someone else's back. Andromeda was welcome to the job! He scribbled the cancellation on a Ministry memo (dipped in Veritaserum to prove it was truly him and un-coerced) and chucked it into his outbox. Something he should have done when Hermione stormed in, really, but being on the wrong end of her wand was justifiably distracting.

Interested in Hermione's answer, he kept part of his attention on her conversation with Andromeda.

"Sorry. I guess I do owe you an explanation. Bellatrix tortured me. It – the fainting thing – has happened before, in Malfoy Manor, the first time I went back into the room where it happened."

"Has it happened since then?"

"The room no longer exists."

"Changing the layout of his precious home for you? Perhaps Malfoy really has changed." Andromeda didn't sound like she believed it. "The question is will it happen again the next time you see me. As you are close to the Weasleys, it is pretty unavoidable; I shall be marrying Arthur after the addendum comes into force."

"Oh, congratulations. Er, I hope it won't happen again. Severus might have some suggestions, he is an expert with Dark Arts...speaking of which, where is he?" Hermione got to her feet, her eyes narrowed as she glared between Andromeda and Kingsley.

"In a Ministry holding cell. And don't blame me, I only just found out," Kingsley spoke up, acutely aware of the sweat trickling between his shoulder blades. Had she been taking lessons from Severus in glare effectiveness?

"When he didn't come back after his appointment at St Mungo's, I was...concerned. I spoke to the Healers and they confirmed my fears." Hermione turned away, her arms wrapped around herself as if she might break.

Andromeda tentatively put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "He's not in Azkaban. You can thank Kingsley for that; he refused to sign the transfer form."

"It's my fault," Hermione breathed, or at least Kingsley thought she did. It was...difficult to read lips in profile. But combined with the desolate guilt in her eyes and slumped shoulders, he was pretty sure of what she'd said.

Both Malfoy and Severus sterile, and in light of what Hermione had just said, Kingsley would bet his front teeth that she was too. And that their fertility problems were no coincidence. In his position of authority, he had no wish to know more. The less he knew, the better. Good for Hermione if she'd found some way to avoid the invasive addendum, but it looked like she needed his help if Severus was to stay out of trouble.

He met Andromeda's eyes over the top of Hermione's head and saw his own conclusions reflected there. Andromeda's lips tightened in displeasure, but she nodded in agreement. While she might not be overly fond of Severus, she was definitely not fond of the law or the way it tied her hands.

"As the law stands, we cannot release Severus. But I have my issues with that aspect of the law."

Kingsley fancied he could hear Andromeda's teeth grinding from across the room. Helping Severus like this would sting her pride.

"As do I," she choked out. "That's an objection seconded, enough to call an emergency session of the Wizengamot. Within the hour."

"Don't worry. We'll get him out." Kingsley moved around his desk to squeeze Hermione's shoulder.

"She could help us," Andromeda suggested. "Private session or not, it concerns her."

* * *

Fudge swelled up like a bullfrog as he pointed a fat finger at where Hermione perched on the arm of the chair in the middle of the room, the chains quiescent behind her. "What is she doing here? Civilians have no place in closed Wizengamot sessions where the proceedings do not concern them."

Kingsley paused as he settled into his seat in the centre of the dais, ready to speak up. Not that he would need to, if the defiant fire in Hermione's eyes was anything to go by.

"Objection. This very much concerns me as the future of my marital unions are at stake over the outcome."

"The prisoner is not present. This is not a trial, but merely a session called to clarify the law. You may attend the criminal trial..."

"So sterility is a crime now. Are you going to arrest me?" She left the rest of the question unspoken, but from the way she looked at certain members of esteemed council before her, Kingsley could tell that she was wondering who else would be arrested. Her gaze lingered deliberately on Fudge.

Fudge flushed purple at the insinuation. "It is a crime to artificially become sterile in order to avoid your procreative duties."

"And what proof do you have that is the case with my husbands?"

"You know, if we've arrested Snape for this, we really should arrest Malfoy too," Gawain whispered to Kingsley from his seat next to him. Kingsley smiled grimly. If it came to that, it would be the silver lining...

Fudge looked around for backup. The rest of the Warlocks avoided his gaze. Kingsley suppressed a grin. It seemed that they did have some sense after all...

"Come now, Mrs Sn...Ma..." Fudge spluttered, fumbling for the right name.

"Ms. Granger. I married two men. It would have meant giving one of them an unfair precedence over the other if I took only one of their names. Besides, my name is already enough of a mouthful without a triple-barrelled name."

"Ms. Granger, then. Your husbands both have the same problems. The chances of two people, let alone two people married to the same woman, there is far too much coincidence..."

Hermione had even less patience for Fudge's bluster than Kingsley had on his worst day and cut him off again mid-stream.

"Might I remind the...honourable...members of the Wizengamot that there are also more 'coincidences'? They are both former Death Eaters and were not always in Voldemort's..." Almost everyone present flinched. "...favour. Who knows what he did to them?"

"I-I have here before me..." Fudge almost dropped the partially unrolled parchment as he waved it theatrically overhead. "...the medical report of Severus Snape. The Healers detected no Dark magic as the cause."

"Firstly, it's been over a year since Voldemort – oh, get over it! He's dead! – fell, so any trace may well be long gone, and secondly, what makes you think that Voldemort always used Dark magic?"

"To interfere with a natural process in such a way is Dark!"

"In which case if it had been interfered with, regardless by whom, it would have been detected."

"Oh, I like this one." Kingsley's co-husband nudged him companionably. Gawain grinned at him. "Can we have her in more of these sessions? She really livens them up."

"It's certainly a treat to see someone walk over Fudge without getting stuck," Kingsley muttered back, returning his attention to the entertainment.

Fudge cleared his throat. "The law is clear. Those infertile will have their unions dissolved. They may later remarry those in similar circumstances..."

"Perhaps you could make it clear how that relates to my husband's arrest."

"Well, I, ah, there are suspicions that he...the man's a potions Master! There's no telling what he did..."

Kingsley struck the gavel once, curtailing Fudge's rant before he could hit his stride. "Cornelius, suspicion and coincidences alone will not stand up in a fair trial. You were present when this august body presided over the changes to the law to ensure that there could be no imprisonments without a fair trial."

"That may be so, but neither can the procreative elements to the marriage law be ignored..."

"Tell me, Cornelius, where does it stipulate that if all of those in a polyandrous union are sterile that the Ministry should waste time and therefore money tearing them asunder?" Andromeda piped up.

"Er, well..."

Kingsley fixed Fudge with a challenging stare. "And does it also stipulate that those married to post-menopausal women should have their marriages annulled as well? Do tell me if I'm wrong, but wasn't part of the purpose of the law unity? To marry off the population in order to prevent fights over the few remaining witches?"

"Well, yes, but the primary function was to repopulate our world. For that, as many unions as possible need to be fertile. Unfortunate as it may be, that means annulling some marriages." Fudge straightened his hat.

"I refuse to support the enforcement of that where two thirds or all of each trio have fertility problems," Kingsley stated. "When the woman is one of those infertile, that is."

"You are the Minister! It is your duty..."

"All in favour of amending the law," Andromeda chipped in. Just over half of those present raised their hands.

"Good call," Kingsley whispered. While he had been focusing on Fudge, she must have been observing the expressions and body language of the rest of the Wizengamot.

"That settled, would you mind if I liberated my husband?" Hermione's voice reminded Kingsley of her presence. In all fairness, he had been rather caught up with the sport of Fudge-walking.

"That is not for you to decide, young lady." Fudge turned to face his fellow Warlocks, effectively ignoring Hermione. "I suggest we adjourn this meeting. It is already beyond our work hours, might I suggest we reconvene tomorrow? Or maybe next week?"

There was a murmur of agreement from Fudge's cronies.

"I suggest you release Severus Snape before I lose my temper. You don't have enough proof against him for a fair trial, and without that you have no right to hold him any longer. If you don't let him go free, I will, and I don't care what I break in order to do so."

The shocked silence was broken by Gawain's guffaws, hurriedly muffled as coughs.

"I, you, well, I...Are you insane? Do you think you're above the law? I...Andromeda! Gawain! Arrest her!"

Neither moved.

"Cornelius, she's committed no arrestable offence." At the most, she'd be cautioned. And maybe monitored. Kingsley suspected that both Andromeda and Gawain would let her off for the amusement she'd provided. "Under the Freedom of Speech Act you voted for, I might add, she can no more be arrested than the staff at the Daily Prophet or the Quibbler can be for printing whatever they please."

"I might add that certain members of the Wizengamot aren't above the law either," Hermione snapped. "You cannot act as you did before Voldemort was defeated and imprison people without fair trials, whether they're in Ministry cells or in Azkaban."

Fudge spluttered, his flabby face mottled red and purple with fury. Hermione was on her feet now, her hands clenched into fists, her whole body trembling with equal rage.

'Time to intervene,' Kingsley thought, or he'd have to get Hermione out of the cells too, and that would be more difficult than springing Severus if she assaulted Fudge in front of his friends.

"All in favour of releasing Severus Snape, effective immediately." Every hand rose, including Fudge's. That was a surprise, although maybe he just wanted to escape Hermione's wrath.

The young woman smiled disarmingly at the assembled Warlocks.

"Mark my words, she's going to be trouble," Fudge muttered to his nearest neighbour, his eyes fixed on Hermione as though she was a Manticore. "You should hear the tales my wife tells of her."

Kingsley bit his lip to stifle laughter. 'Oh, Fudge, you don't know the half of it! Or perhaps you do, if Dolores Fudge née Umbridge's horror stories are true.'

* * *

AN: Dedicated to cck_brit. Happy belated birthday!

Many thanks to Kribu, JunoMagic and Septentrion for betaing.