Marriage Law Madness

This chapter is a series of vignettes between fathers and daughters that all occur the same evening. It was a very hard chapter for me to write, given that these are mostly new father-daughter relationships that haven’t had time to develop yet. For those of you reading in sequence, go back two chapter and read “Family Ties.” It didn’t load and I didn’t realize it was missing until I went back and read it.

~~~

Lucius arrived back at Hogwarts just as the dinner bell rang, but as he headed towards the table he was stopped by Minerva McGonagall and told to go to Dumbledore’s office.

He was rather surprised to find Tia sitting on her father’s lap, contentedly sipping a glass of pumpkin juice. “Daddy, I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius, this is my father, Edmund DeHarfleur.” None of them noticed Dumbledore slip out via the Floo.

Lucius reached out and shook hands. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Mutual, I’m sure. Now, sir. I know your feelings towards Tia, judging by the ring. But what exactly are your intentions towards my daughter?”

“Daddy!” Tia protested.

“Quiet, Tia. I got cheated out of doing this to that scum who got you pregnant, I intend to make sure this one is worthy of my little sugarlump.”

‘This is going to be a long evening.’ Lucius thought.

~~~

Severus stepped through the door of room eleven and sighed. She was just as he had left her. He set his purchases down on the bed, removing the items from their respective bags. Hermione was talking to herself through her tears, and he could make out horrible snatches like ‘unworthy of anything good,’ ‘ungrateful child,’ and ‘hopeless.’
When she got to ‘stupid Mudblood,’ he crossed the room in two strides, grabbing her and turning her around. Her eyes snapped open and what he saw terrified him and stiffened his resolve. There was no spark in her amber eyes, they were dead and lifeless, like a clouding screen had been put between her and the world.

“Hermione Jane. I do not want to ever hear that word out of your mouth in reference to anyone ever again, including yourself. Do you understand me?” His voice was hard, cold, exactly as she remembered it being in hundreds of potions classes over the past six and a half years.

“Yes, sir.” Her voice was stiff, but did a pathetic job of masking the pain.

“Why did you call me that? You’ve called me dad ever since the bonding.”

“I’m not good enough to call you that. Only good girls get to call their fathers that. I’m so awful that although you’ve threatened at least three times, you’ve never bothered to punish me. Forgivness is only for those who are worthy of it. I’m not. Do you know what my aunt said to me at the funeral this morning? She said she hoped I was going to burn in hell, that I was responsible for my parents dying, and that I was no longer considered a member of their family. Even my relatives can’t stand me.” The words came in deep, heaving breaths, tears running down her face.

“Oh, Hermione.” Severus reached into his pocket, withdrawing a black silk handkerchief and handing it to her. He pointed his wand at the rickety spindle backed chair in the corner, transfiguring it into an oversized rocking chair with a soft cushion on it. Gathering her into his arms, he carried her over to the chair and sat down, setting the rocker into motion with his foot. When she had cried until it seemed there were no more tears, he began to lecture her gently.

“You are going to get the spanking I promised you, I was waiting until I was sure you had healed from the curse, but in my quest to make sure you were physically healed, it did not occur to me that I might impair your emotional healing. For this I am truly sorry, and will attempt to correct the misconception that I haven’t punished you because you aren’t good enough. Your aunt was wrong. That wasn’t your fault, and she isn’t even related to you by blood. Now, I want you to sit down at that desk over there and write down every single thing in this mess you think is your fault, and then we are going to discuss them. You have half an hour.” He handed her a quill and a new bottle of ink from one of the bags, then pulled out a small book covered in red leather. It was a diary, the cover stamped with the Hogwarts crest. On the flyleaf was written in Severus’ distinctive scrawl: “To my daughter Hermione – here is a place for you to record your special thoughts, hopes, wishes, fears and dreams. May you realize all your hopes and wishes, overcome your fears and all your dreams come true. Love, Dad.”

It seemed there were some tears left after all.

~~~

In his palatial Minister’s residence, Cornelius Fudge sighed. He’d hoped that by adopting a child already through the toddler stage, he’d be able to get a decent night’s sleep on occasion. Beatrice seemed to need almost constant physical contact, to the point he took her to the office with him as he couldn’t leave her with a sitter who didn’t understand. Tonight she clung to Rosmerta, who was getting ready to go back to the Three Broomsticks for the night. “Rosie, I know it isn’t exactly proper as we aren’t married yet, but would you mind staying here tonight? I think she might do better with both of us.”

Rosmerta nodded her acquiescence, removing her cloak and placing it back on the stand next to the door. He lent her a nightshirt, and a half an hour later he sank gratefully into slumber next to her, their little girl snuggled down between them fast asleep.

~~~

In a cottage not far away, another father was helpless to comfort his daughter’s pain – as he too was undergoing the same transformation. Her cries became a canine whimper as the transformation took hold, and Felicity gave them their dinner. Severus had brought her a large vial of Sweet Dreams when he’d delivered the Wolfsbane the day before. Mixing it into the food, Felicity put the dish on the floor. Soon she had two sleeping wolves in front of the fire, the smaller one curled up facing her father, her nose resting on his front paws, his chin on top of her head. Sophie toddled over and sprawled in her new favorite spot, on the floor with her head resting on her father’s flanks. Felicity sat sipping her cup of tea and watching her husband and their children sleep.

~~~

“Time’s up. Come here, and bring your list.” Severus was sitting in the rocking chair again, and he gathered Hermione onto his lap. She handed him the list and buried her head into his shoulder, not wanting to see his face as he read the list of awful things she had done.

“Most interesting list, dear. I always thought it was Potter who stole the Boomslang skin, and I had no idea who took the others. But I really do think the three weeks you spent in the infirmary were punishment enough for that. Who threw the firework, by the way?”

“Harry did. I knew you didn’t know I did it, but somehow I feel better now that you know.” Hermione’s voice was muffled until she lifted her head from his robe. He stroked her back, scanning further down the list.

“The cat incident is a problem, but I’m sure Crookshanks will forgive you under the circumstances, and I didn’t remember either. You might send a note to Kingsley, he’s going to be in the hospital wing a few days. However, I do admit that eavesdropping, jumping to conclusions, and running away were your fault. I think you should send some apology notes on that one. Several Order members took time off from their day jobs to look for you.”

She nodded miserably, blowing her nose into the handkerchief. They slowly worked through each and every item on her list, arguing back and forth about what she should and should not feel guilty about and whether her actions alone could have changed the outcome. There were a lot of things on her list about things she had said in moments of anger and regretted, and they debated whether the people involved would even remember what she had said if she tried to apologize. One thing they agreed upon, however, was that she needed to come up with a self-censoring mechanism to help her bridle her sharp tongue in the future.

“Now, young lady, get ready for bed and come back here. Leave your hair up.” His voice brooked no arguments.

“Yes, sir.” She almost whispered this as she scuttled off towards the bathroom, appearing a few minutes later wearing a long nightgown with sheep on it. The sheep were jumping over small fences and cavorting around on the lavender flannel. Severus was sitting in the desk chair. Hermione stood beside him while he quickly muttered a silencing charm so they wouldn’t disturb other guests.

“Now young lady, are we perfectly clear about why you are getting this spanking?” he said sternly. She nodded. He very quickly turned her over his knee and began laying in spanks with his hand, causing the sheep that occupied the portion of the nightgown covering her backside to baa in silent consternation and flee to other less dangerous patches of fabric. She started to wriggle, and much to her dismay he lifted the hem of her nightgown and started to spank the seat of her sensible white cotton underwear. After a few minutes of this he sat her up. “My hand is getting tired. Go take a peek in that bag over there – the blue one.” Hermione scooted off his lap and did as she was told. Her eyes widened when she withdrew a wooden hairbrush identical to the one she knew Ginny had gotten for Christmas, except hers was made of Red Oak wood.

“Come here, baby.” She moved to bend over again, but he stopped her and pulled her onto his lap for a hug. Then he took the hairbrush from her and motioned her for her to bend over again. She started to cry in earnest now, her tears soaking the hem of his robe. He didn’t let up until he felt all the tension flow from her, then finished with a few very hard smacks.

“Hush, now, its all over. Everything is forgiven, we don’t ever have to talk about it again if you don’t want to.” He soothed her gently, rocking her in his arms. She looked as if a gigantic weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and the horrible dullness he had seen in her eyes earlier was gone. They stayed this way for a long time, until he had to move because both his legs were asleep. He carried her to the bathroom, telling her to run herself a cool bath. He went back to the bedroom, turning down the edge of the covers for her and placing the jar of healing potion he’d bought on the nightstand, discarding the empty bags and placing the others on the floor.

Hermione emerged from the bathroom to find Severus sitting in the desk chair with her new hairbrush in his hand. “Get one of those pillows off the bed and come here.” She complied immediately, and he set the pillow on the floor, directing her to sit down on it. He began to unbraid her hair, brushing out the long amber locks, a hundred strokes each. When her hair was gleaming and tangle-free, he put the brush down and sent her after the healing potion. He applied the potion and tucked her in. “Dad?” she asked shyly.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~~~

Albus Dumbledore sat by his goddaughter’s bedside, holding her hand in his. It had shocked him to see her so weak and pale. Even at the height of the war when she had been injured and nearly died she hadn’t been like this. Minerva sat beside him, still and silent, her Gryffindor courage beginning to crack. Molly was sleeping, there was nothing he could do for her right now. He gathered his wife into his arms and held her, letting her draw from his strength.

~~~

Gabrielle Delacour sat on her bunk in the Slytherin Girls dorm, looking at two photographs. One was of her family in happier times, right after the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Her father had his arm around her shoulders, proud of the bond between his daughters that had made her the thing her sister would miss most. The other showed her, her sister, Charlie and both sets of parents. Severus was standing next to Molly, smiling nervously, while the Delacour parents were beaming. She sighed and put the first photograph in her trunk, tucking it under her school skirt that she could no longer wear. There was no use pining, even if her parents changed their minds there would be no going back. She smiled at the second photo. “Goodnight, Dad. Goodnight, Mom. Come home soon.” Placing the photo on her nightstand, she snuggled in to sleep.