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McGonagall’s voice cut through the din of chatter in the Great Hall. “Before we conclude our Start-of-Term Feast, I have one last announcement. The last term was full of division and loss.” She paused, surveying the room. “This year must be different. There will be a series of reconciliation activities throughout the year in which you are all expected to take part. The first of which starts tonight.”
“When you return to your rooms, half of you will find a parchment and quill on your writing desk. You have each been matched to another student in your year and you will correspond with them until Yule.” Ron groaned next to her.
“The parchment has been charmed so that you cannot reveal identifying information about yourself to your partner.” Hermione’s interest peaked. A charm that not only disguised the identity of the sender but prevented you from revealing identifying information. It was fascinating and mildly unethical. “It is our sincere hope that providing you anonymity will allow you to open up to one another and heal the wounds of the past year.”
“Yes, let’s give a group of traumatised children a pen pal,” she commented scathingly. “I’m sure that will fix everything. There are so many things I’m going to change when I get into the Ministry, the lack of mental health support in the Wizarding Community being one of them.” She added it to her list of future task force ideas.
“If both students decide that they wish to reveal their identities to one another, I will share that information with those involved at our Yule celebration. If either or both students prefer to remain anonymous to one another, the parchment will simply incinerate. As the great wizard Albus Dumbledore once said, ‘We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.’ Cheers.”
The Headmistress lifted her goblet before rejoining the other professors. Hermione looked at Ron, who shrugged back at her in confusion.
When she returned to her dorm, she found a blank parchment on her bed. She picked it up, then turned it over and back again, examining it. The words “Hermione Granger” flashed once in black ink before disappearing back into the parchment, reminding her of the Marauder’s Map. Interesting. It was late and she was tired, but she cast a few basic diagnostic charms at the parchment before she crawled into bed. She struggled to fall asleep as her mind whirred.
Well, this whole thing is a rubbish idea. But I am curious about this charm.
How much will it let us say?
How did McGonagall create it?
Is this a DOM project?
My name is Too obvious, but I had to try right?
My parents are hmm interesting.
My favourite season is winter.
Well if nothing else, this will give me something fun to work on this year. Our classes are absurdly easy after last year. It will be nice to have a challenge.
I’ve never really been partial to charms, so I haven’t the foggiest. It’s certainly an interesting idea, though. I doubt you’ll be able to break the charm on it. Or if you do, I’d bet there is a failsafe that would destroy the entire parchment.
It’s not so much that classes are easy, it’s just so pointless now. My marks don’t really matter anymore, I just need to graduate. Check the box.
For the sake of your experiment:
I live in England in the town of
I have 2 cats, though they and I adore them
I have I am not an only child.
It wouldn’t let me write how many siblings I have.
Hermione had spent the last few weeks researching information on concealment charms before switching to magic-enabled communication methods. She was determined to figure out exactly how the parchment worked before time was up. She wished (not for the first time) that she could have asked the Marauders more about Harry’s map.
You have cats? I love cats! Mine is a ginger tabby. He’s half and has the .. Really? That could explain any number of cats. Why on earth would it block that? Rubbish.
Your exams are really important for most jobs. What are you planning to do if you don’t think they matter? I am planning to become a work for the ministry and so I’m really worried about several of my classes. I’m sure the charm will block them so I won’t bother trying to go into it.
A few other tests… My favourite class is Arithmancy, though I know most people think it’s a nightmare. Whenever we go to Hogsmeade, I always visit Honeydukes and get When I graduate, I’m going to work at the Ministry in
Speaking of classes, our new Defence professor is an absolute idiot. I don’t even think he was in the country during the war. But he’s here teaching us defence?? What a farce.
You’re spot on. I have it on good authority that he was in France during the war. The role is Ministry appointed for the next three years minimum. Apparently, the Ministry hasn’t totally released their claws despite the absolute cock-up of Dolores Umbridge’s tenure.
I’m not going to work after school, not in anything meaningful anyway. My parents are finalising my plans for me this month. Anything after that will be subject to the whims of my My decisions won’t be my own. It’s hard not to be bitter about it, even though I’ve always known that this is how it would be.
I’m sure it doesn’t take a Cursebreaker to read between the lines of the charm on that. Does it help you with your research?
I only need to finish school because it’s what’s expected for a woman of good So yeah, classes feel pretty pointless when all is done.
An arranged marriage, are you joking? They can’t force you, it’s illegal. It was one of the practices specifically prohibited in the Witches Rights Act of 1984. I’m sure you won’t be able to confirm or answer, but if you need support I can copy out the legislation directly onto the parchment for you, or send you the cataloguing information from the Ministry Library. There were also a handful of Wizengamot cases that took place after the legislation was set, that clarified and set this precedent in case you needed additional details or information.
If you need legal help, I am sure we can find someone to help you. I can ask some of my
The law is irrelevant. If I Without my parents Merlin. I wouldn’t There are other things that would change for me if I made different decisions. I hate this: this charmed parchment and the entire situation.
Idly, Hermione cast another diagnostic charm on the parchment, attempting to better understand the nature of the paper. One of the spells was Obliviation-adjacent, which made her distinctly uncomfortable. How professors at this school thought it was okay to subject their students to anything close to Obliviation was appalling.
All progress towards identifying the parchment had stalled. Instead, she shifted her focus towards her other project: trying to determine who this girl was.
Hermione flipped her notebook to one of the back pages, where she’d made a list of all the students in her year. She’d already crossed out all the boys and the few students who lived outside of England. The other girl had to be a pureblood, or perhaps one of the more traditional families that still tried to maintain pureblood customs. The whole idea of an arranged marriage was appalling to Hermione. She supposed some people might truly want one (it certainly simplified things), but this woman clearly did not. She crossed off all the Muggleborn and progressive families that she was certain wouldn’t be arranging marriages of their offspring.
For an enchanted parchment, it certainly gave away quite a lot. At least, for anyone who cared to pay attention or who knew how to ask the right questions.
Her anger simmered as she penned her response.
I hate the idea of someone trapped in a life like that. It doesn’t sound like something you’re interested in yourself, so apologies if my assumption is incorrect. If you decided you didn’t want to go through with it, I’m sure I could find some way to help. Is it money? I’m guessing you're from one of the pureblood families, maybe Ravenclaw or Slytherin? Are they threatening to disinherit? One of my friends inherited a large sum of money recently and I’m sure he’d be happy to loan you some to help you get settled.
If they’re threatening to force you or hurt you in some way, you should go to McGonagall. I know our professors were unreliable during the war, but I have to believe she’d protect you. You could ask her to make an exception and tell you who I am. Do you want me to ask her?
You could just refuse to go home, they won’t be able to touch you at Hogwarts. Maybe you could stay while you figure out how to void whatever contract they’re working on. I know some people in the Wizengamot who owe me a favour. I’d be more than happy to call it in for something like this. The idea that they think they can force you… like you’re property, sickens me.
You think McGonnagal would listen to you? There’s no possible way, she’d make an exception for something like this. For someone
Your note made me smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone get truly upset on my account. Well, perhaps when I was a girl and You sound like a very passionate person. I wish I had friends like that. Most of them are in difficult situations with their parents too and can’t spare much of a thought for my situation. It could be worse. At least my parents are alive and not in Azkaban.
Money can buy a lot of things. I’ll just have to see if it can buy happiness, or at least contentment.
I’m going to be meeting my the new friend my parents want me to spend time with this weekend. Wish me luck, I suppose.
The girl was smart, and able to communicate quite well around the charm. Hermione debated telling her what she was doing, but didn’t want to risk alerting McGonnagal in case there was some monitoring built in for anyone who might attempt to do what Hermione herself was coming steadily closer to: identifying her counterpart on her own.
She’d been able to give Hermione a surprising amount of information.
It’s really fascinating how much we’ve been able to actually say working around the charm. As long as I can guess things reasonably well, it seems like you can answer in a way that confirms it, even it you can’t say it outright.
I wonder if you’re meeting him now
It was horrible and there’s no way for me to avoid it. If I don’t My parents signed
I told you I’m not an only child. It has to be me. If I don’t
I have to take care of my My family is counting on me.
My bedroom at home overlooks the duck pond. Wow, I’m surprised it let me say that, must be too obscure to think it would give me away.
Sometimes I sneak out at night and steal slices of pumpkin pie from the kitchens.
I really don’t want to fucking
I’m so sick of this view
Hermione couldn’t stop thinking about this unknown woman. Clearly, she felt she couldn’t back out of this contract. The decision was somehow linked to a sibling, but how? Worrying at her lower lip, she did what she did best. She went to the library and checked out every book she could on the topic of wizarding marriage traditions.
She was so close, and had managed to narrow it down to five possible suspects. It felt like the strangest high stakes game of 20 questions known to man. She’d spent the last week, reviewing the five names and cataloguing what she knew about them. A surge of excitement shot through her. Soon, with just a few more questions, she’d have her answer.
What did you think of Trewlany’s Divination Class?
Do you like Advanced Herbology?
Maybe there’s options you aren’t considering. Surely there’s something you can figure out.
Nothing is set in stone.
You’re wrong, there are some things you just can’t change. This is one of them. Thank you for your concern, but there’s really nothing to be done now.
It’s best for me just to move forward.
Hermione had nothing left to say and resigned herself to waiting until Yule to find out for sure who this woman was. Though now, she wasn’t sure she did want to know. She tried not to judge the girl too harshly. Whatever was going on, she truly believed she had no choice, and Hermione could certainly understand impossible choices.
Too upset to focus on the lecture, she surveyed her Astronomy classroom. The entire year was together for lectures, and they alternated observation days in the tower in smaller groups. The five suspects were spread around the room and she watched each closely, mulling over her thoughts.
Hold on.
She pulled the parchment from her pocket, unfolding it on her desk. The words slanted the wrong way. She looked up again, back to the brown-haired witch three rows ahead of her. Left-handed. How did I miss that? she berated herself.
She ran back through everything she knew about her writing partner. Yes, it all matches.
Astoria. She’d been writing to Astoria Greengrass.
“Astoria, may I speak with you?” Hermione asked, as class ended. She didn’t have much of a plan for this, but now that she knew who it was, she couldn’t simply say nothing.
“Sure, Hermione,” Astoria responded looking nervously back over her shoulder at her friends as they continued down the corridor.
The hall emptied quickly. “I’m going to be late for my next class.” Astoria, clearly uncomfortable being corned by Hermione, started to edge past her.
“Wait,” Hermione said, cutting off her exit. She licked her lips nervously. She had spent the rest of class trying to figure our how to outwit the charm. She was (mostly) confident it would work if she kept it simple and generic. “It’s me. We were all assigned to write letters back and forth.”
Astoria’s brows furrowed. “What?”
“I can’t say it any differently. But I know. You don’t have to.” Hermione paused, searching Astoria’s face for recognition. But she still looked confused. “I can help you find a way out of this Astoria. They can’t make you—”
“How dare you,” Astoria hissed. A flush spread up her neck. “I already told you I—” She coughed putting a hand to her throat, as the charm prevented her from speaking. “I am going through with this wedding. You’re a Muggleborn. You don’t know a single thing about me or about this situation. You and your saviour complex can piss off. Just leave me alone.” Astoria shoved past Hermione, walking briskly.
Hermione’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger. Muggleborn. Saviour complex. All she’s been trying to do was offer this woman a way out for Merlin’s sake, she didn’t need to get her knickers in such a twist.
“Circe’s tits, Astoria. I was just trying to help!” Hermione practically yelled after her.
She whirled back. “I don’t need help,” Astoria bit out, emphasising each word. “If you must know. This is me helping.” She glanced around. My future-husband if a powerful, wealthy. My parents aren’t about to let his proposal slip though their fingers. If I back out of it, Daphne will be next. But with this match, I can make sure that Daphne can be free. So don’t you presume to know what’s best for me, Golden Girl.”
“Astoria…” This time Astoria didn’t turn back. Which was for the best, because Hermione had no words left.
She was stunned. In what sort of archaic— She shook herself out of her stupor. She wasn’t even angry anymore. Just numb.
I’m sorry about last week. You’re right, I was out of order. I wanted to help, but I should have respected your wished. I’m not really used to people not needing my help and when I see a problem, I just have to fix it. But it wasn’t right of me to project my own desires onto you.
Hermione had not expected to see the parchment again and was startled when it showed up weeks later, just before Yule.
I’m sorry too. I treated you too harshly. I was caught off guard. Gryffindors really don’t know how to tread delicately, do they? I can see now that you were just concerned. Then, once I’d called down and thought about it more, I realised that you’re the only one who tried to help or asked if I was okay. Everyone else has just looked away from the situation.
So, thank you for caring enough to ask. It’s alright. There are things more important than my happiness, as you know, and I have to prioritise Oh Merlin, I already know! Bloody parchment
Maybe we can have tea together sometime, and talk without having to twist our words so much?
Please don’t give up on me.
Hermione and Astoria became fast friends. The quiet Slytherin was studious, and both women were delighted to find their interests overlapped. Everything changed after Yule, with new couples and new friendships cropping up everywhere. No one thought much about Hermione and Astoria.
The women spent most of their free time together, talking about Hermione’s ministry reform plans (a topic Astoria was also passionate about). Astoria told her who in the Ministry would be passionate about specific legislation and who she would need to work harder to win over, and suggestions on how to do do. Other times they simply discussed the latest books they’d been reading — both women tended towards fantastical and romantic in their leisure reading.
In August of that year, Astoria married Collin Abbott, an older cousin of their classmate, Hannah. Her maid of honour, Hermione Granger, reminded her of why she’d made her decision, and upheld her promise to make sure she made it down the aisle.
Five years later, Astoria had two small children and Hermione had recently split from long time boyfriend Ron Weasley. Ron had proposed to her at Christmas, at which time she’d had a sudden epiphany. She’d been “dragging her feet” (as Molly was fond of telling her) for years, always delaying Ron when he brought up the topic. In that moment, it became clear, she couldn’t picture a life next to Ron as her husband. Initially, she’d been surprised when Ron hadn’t tried very hard to convince her to stay with him, and she had a suspicion he’d known before she did.
Another two years passed, and Collin Abbot was killed when the artefact he had been researching catastrophically failed. Hermione had been the one who wiped the tears from her best friend’s eyes, who held her tightly. Collin had been good to her and while Astoria admitted that they’d never developed a romantic relationship, they’d been close friends. It had been a good partnership, and Collin had been a wonderful father. Hermione began spending more time than ever with Astoria and her children (who Hermione adored), trying to fill some of the gap left by the sudden loss of Collin.
Before the year was up, Hermione and Astoria’s relationship had matured and bloomed into something new. They’d always been close, and Hermione had always felt a certain level of attraction towards the woman, but she knew that Astoria felt strongly about honouring her marriage vows in word and deed, and so Hermione had kept it hidden. Once Astoria’s grief lessened, things changed. No longer worried about her marriage vows, Astoria was finally able to explore the feelings she too had held secret for so long. Hunger burned through the fear of compromising her friendship.
All it had taken was a spark.
They were preparing for the annual Ministry Ball and Astoria was struggling to clasp her necklace. Hermione approached from behind where she was sat in front of the mirror.
“Allow me,” she said, taking the ends in each hand. Astoria pulled her hair to the side as Hermione and deftly clasp the delicate chain.
“Gorgeous,” Hermione murmured as she adjusted the pendant to rest in the hollow of Astoria’s throat.
Hermione’s hand skimmed a trail against her skin as she withdrew her hand, causing Astoria’s breath to catch. She had planned to ignore it (as she always did), until Astoria trapped her hand before she could withdraw, bringing it to her mouth to place soft kisses to each fingertip. Hardly daring to breathe, Hermione watched until Astoria’s burning eyes met hers in the mirror and her breath whooshed out of her.
They had been friends for so long. Of course, they’d talked about their sexuality, but... But things were different now, weren’t they. The glint in Astoria’s eyes when she looked at Hermione answered her unspoken question. Hesitantly, allowing Astoria time to pull away if she changed her mind, she tilted Astoria’s chin upwards, leaned down, and kissed her.
It was the first and only time Hermione missed the Ministry ball.
Eight months later, Hermione and Astoria married in the Malfoy Manor gardens. Daphne, still ignorant to the sacrifice her sister had made for her and happily married to Dennis Creevy, served as her sister’s matron of honour. Hermione was attended by Harry, while his husband, Draco, looked on adoringly. It was a small affair, quiet and intimate, just they way they wanted.
“I’m so very glad you didn’t give up on me,” Astoria whispered against her wife’s lips.
“I could never.” Hermione sealed the promise with a kiss.