Chapter Text
"Ginny? Luna? Are you there?"
Hermione's voice echoed through the empty living room of Ginny and Luna's shared flat with no response.
"Hello!" Hermione shouted, hoping that one of them was home and she hadn't stuck her head through the Floo for nothing. Then she could add a sore neck to her list of grievances today. Finally, footsteps approached from the other room and Luna rounded the corner.
"I'm here, but Ginny's still at practice," Luna said.
"Oh." Hermione had forgotten that the Holyhead Harpies often had Quidditch practice later into the evening. "Well, that's alright, leave her a note to join us and come through. I've got to show something to both of you."
Hermione pulled her head out of the fireplace with a heavy sigh and then got up and went to the kitchen to mix up some punch…with a little extra vodka for good measure. Luna found her there less than a minute later, already halfway through her glass.
"What's going on, Hermione?"
"Grab a drink," Hermione told Luna, gesturing towards the pitcher full of a pink concoction she'd set out. Luna got a cup and took a sip with an appreciative hum.
"The Wizengamot," Hermione started to say, "has passed a bill into law called the 'Preservation of Magical Saturation'."
"That doesn't sound bad," Luna ventured.
"Of course not," Hermione said, taking another large gulp of her drink. "Which is why when it passed last week, nobody gave it a second glance."
Hermione herself had been on holiday in Australia for the past three weeks visiting her parents, who had decided to stay there even after she had restored their memories after the war. Otherwise, she would have caught this law and started making a fuss about it before it came to a vote. Now, however, there was a significant uphill battle in front of her.
"So, what's actually in the law, then?"
"Essentially, witches may not marry outside the magical community and if they are caught attempting to do so, a new partner will instead be chosen for them."
Luna stared at her for a moment, then took a long drink from her glass. "Sniffling Snorkacks!"
"Exactly."
It was silent for a while.
"What can we do?" Luna asked.
"For now?" Hermione laughed with an edge of the anxious hysteria that had plagued her ever since that wretched parchment had passed her desk just after lunch. "I'm going to get smashingly drunk, and then decide how to deal with the law and my hangover tomorrow."
"Cheers to that!" Ginny declared as she strode into the kitchen. She had evidently come straight through the Floo after seeing Luna's note, because her face was still a little flushed from practice. She poured herself a generous amount from the pitcher, clinked her glass against Luna and Hermione's and downed the drink.
"What's the occasion?"
"P.M.S." Hermione abbreviated the law's title.
"Ah," Ginny said with a wink. "Say no more."
"No, that's not — ugh." Hermione was too tipsy by this point to explain it again. "Accio snatch— No! No, Finite!" Ginny and Luna were both dying laughing. "I meant Accio satchel." Her bag came flying into her hands from the other room. She rummaged around in it until she found the parchment and handed it over to Ginny.
Ginny unrolled it, a frown forming on her face as she read. Luna looked over her shoulder curiously. It wasn't a particularly long text, and Hermione knew exactly when Ginny had finished reading it because she swore with impressive creativity and vulgarity.
"Why hasn't this been on the front page of the Daily Prophet?"
Hermione sighed. "It was snuck into a package of other bills going up to vote and since the title doesn't make it sound all that menacing… nobody thought anything of it."
"It's a conspiracy of the patriarchy," Luna added.
"Well, sod the patriarchy," Ginny muttered vindictively.
"You could Bat-Bogey Hex them!"
Ginny looked at Luna in gleeful awe. "Hah! Bat-Bogeys on the Wizengamot!"
"I'll drink to that!" Hermione laughed and they all clinked their glasses together again. She felt herself relax a little, and some of the discomfort of the day eased with the camaraderie she felt from her friends.
The next morning, Hermione felt absolutely horrible upon waking up. Most of that was a rampaging headache, which she blamed entirely on Luna, who had produced a bottle of fairy wine after the pink mixed drink was gone. She wandered into her kitchen to see if she had a stash of Hangover Potion in the cupboard and found Luna already there with a mug of tea and a vial ready for her.
"I've sent an owl," Luna informed her as she pressed the tea and potion into Hermione's hands. The tea smelled heavenly, and the potion had the distinct lavender color of a hangover cure. Hermione drank the potion and instantly felt better.
"Who did you owl?" Hermione asked as she took a sip of her tea.
"Pansy Parkinson."
Hermione nearly choked. "Why?"
"She's a junior reporter at the Prophet," Luna said, "and sometimes she writes for the Quibbler, too. She's very savvy."
"Well." Hermione was in a state of mild disbelief. "Alright, if you think she'll help."
"Lovely! She'll be here in half an hour." Luna beamed. "I'm going to wake Ginny."
Luna breezed out of the room like she hadn't just thrown a wrench in Hermione's nonexistent plans for the morning. Hermione grumbled under her breath, but by the time Luna came back with Ginny, she was ready for a solid strategizing session.
Parkinson was punctual, stepping through the Floo exactly when Luna had said she would.
"Hello Pansy," Luna greeted her. "Thanks for coming."
"How could I not?" Parkinson flipped her hair. "You know I love a good story."
"Is that all this is to you?" Ginny nearly shouted. "A story? This is serious!"
Parkinson shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is, or why you three are all worked up about it. All the witches I know are going to marry wizards anyway."
"That's the point, Parkinson," Hermione said stiffly. "This law targets a very small subset of the population: witches who have greater ties to the Muggle world than they may have to the wizarding one and don't have the kind of resources or connections to fight it. In short: Muggleborns. It's a little too close to Voldemort's beliefs for comfort, don't you think?"
"Not to mention it's an infringement on witch's rights!" Ginny exclaimed. "This law may not directly affect me, but the next one might! The Wizengamot is full of old farts who want their witches learning homemaking spells and popping out little magical babies and nothing else! They won't stop with this law; it'll be all witches that are next."
"It's also isolationist," Luna added. "I don't think it would be good if the muggle world found out about us, but we can't ignore them. That's dangerous, too."
Parkinson smiled at them sharply, like a shark, and pulled a little black plastic box from her coat pocket. It was, to Hermione's shock, a muggle recording device, and it was already turned on.
"Do you mind if I quote you directly?"
Hermione smiled back. "Quote away, Parkinson."
They shared a glance of mutual understanding, and Hermione thought she might actually come to like Parkinson.
"Excellent." Parkinson took a seat at the table with them. "Now, I think the best approach is to get this on the front pages of every publication we can: Prophet, Quibbler, Ghost, etc."
"Isn't the Ghost an American newspaper? Why do we need them running a story about it?"
"International pressure," Hermione explained. "MACUSA had similar laws up until the fifties when they were struck down. The more outrage, the better."
"Your enemy whispers," Luna said serenely, "so you have to scream."
"I am very good at screaming," Ginny smirked.
"Ginevra!" Hermione feigned shock before bursting into laughter. Luna joined in, and even Parkinson cracked a smile.
"But seriously," Hermione said, once she had caught her breath, "I think Luna's right, and we've got to go further."
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, obviously confused.
"You said it yourself earlier," Parkinson said, surprising Hermione. "The Wizengamot won't stop with this law. If we don't replace the people in power…"
"They'll just try again later," Luna finished.
It was quiet at the table. The mood, light and cheerful a few moments ago, was now somber and silent. Hermione felt the echoes of their laughter like a distant ringing in her ears.
"Defeating Voldemort wasn't really the end of the war," Hermione said slowly, gathering her thoughts. "We only got rid of the most obvious threat. The basics of the ideals he stood for are still ingrained in the Ministry."
It was the uncomfortable, unfortunate truth. The prejudice against muggleborns was systemic and longstanding. Hermione had thought that eventually there would be enough turnover in the Ministry that the younger, more open-minded generations would take over, but it hadn't happened fast enough. She hated to think it, but fighting Voldemort may have been the easiest part.
"Most of the Wizengamot is made up of purebloods," Parkinson offered. "I've got plenty of dirt on them to start a call to get a lot of the old boys club ousted."
"Then we'll have to get replacements we like in," Ginny pointed out. "That'll be impossible."
"Wizengamot candidates can be nominated by two existing members or by petition containing at least two hundred magical signatures."
Everyone looked at Luna. Hermione supposed she should have expected it — Luna was a Ravenclaw — but Luna had never been one to flaunt her knowledge in front of people.
"Difficult, but doable," Ginny said. "Who are we going to find that the Wizengamot will actually vote into membership, though?"
"We'll start with people who have older wizarding names first," Parkinson stated. "Bulstrode, Patil, Turpin, Abbott, Bones. Once they're in, we can work on more."
"Millicent Bulstrode?" Hermione wasn't so sure about her.
"Is currently living her best lesbian life with her muggle girlfriend and five cats in a flat." Parkinson flashed her teeth at Hermione. "I think she'll be on board."
"Huh, good for her," Ginny said, obviously just as surprised as Hermione felt.
"You and I can owl them," Hermione told Ginny. "And I suppose the two of you need to get writing?"
Luna and Parkinson both nodded their agreement.
"Well then, witches," Hermione said, feeling like the outlook may not be so hopeless after all, "let's go change the wizarding world."