Chapter Text
"What, precisely, does this mean."
The fragile parchment was large, unfurled across the entirety of the burnished mahogany table within the Minister's office on the top floor of the Ministry of Magic. An Unspeakable shifted against the wall, their nondescript features immediately forgettable, as befits one of such a rank. A slightly crooked nose was the only real feature that stuck in Hermione Granger's mind as her sharp gaze traced over the delicately inscribed text of the parchment. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Interim Minister of Magic - to be formally confirmed during the next Wizengamot session, scheduled for a fortnight hence - rested his fingertips next to the frayed edge of the parchment, the burnished gold of his House ring catching the light. His broad features twitched as he re-read the prologue of the proclamation aloud, as though that might make the thrumming magic make more sense. The glimmering words hovered above the parchment, gilt and shimmering, the text providing its own translation as it was perceived.
What Magick Hath UNITED Let None Sunder
These are the terms of peace which have been agreed upon by all beings magickal of the known world, confirmed with oaths binding and lasting. These terms encompass all not specifically named regardless of alliance, lest magick itself speak.
"Apparently the treaty between Alfred and Guthrum in 878 had a magical twin. The invasion by the Great Heathen Army did more than topple the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, it also rent the very fabric of magic within the land. The effects were felt not only in Britannia but throughout the Nordic region, south through the Mediterranean, and firmly across to the Iberian peninsula." Kingsley's jaw clenched as the Unspeakable spoke. "We've few records detailing it, but its likely that it touched as far as Greenland and into the northern areas of Africa. We are waiting for confirmation from their archivists. Other effects were noted in various magical enclaves throughout the world. We've already had various reports sent in from the Japanese Diet, People's Council of China and the Indian Parliament."
"How bad was it?" Hermione turned to the Unspeakable, tension lining her shoulders. "And what terms resolved it?"
The Unspeakable ran a hand through their hair, a twinge of frustration crossing their face. Hermione had forgotten their name already, if it had even been given. The pressure of the situation was far too dire to bother with the niceties. "Dorestad was wiped out of existence in a magical storm, taking wixen and muggle alike. History is divided on how much of it was the Viking raid, as they were also taken in the cataclysm. Earthquakes, in Dvin, Corinth, Sanriku, and somewhere in the Abbasid Caliphate. Syria. The Adriatic froze. Eruptions." The Unspeakable grimaced. "Mount Fuji erupted for ten days."
Hermione inhaled sharply. "Etna's been rumbling again recently, hasn't it." The Unspeakable gave a nod. "Fuck."
"It gets worse." The Unspeakable took a bracing breath. "Mass deaths. History places the blame on ergot but the records indicate that an entire population in the Rhine Valley was." The Unspeakable grimaced. "The details don't bear witness if we're set on fixing this. Suffice it to say it was unpleasant."
"And the resolution?" Kingsley's voice rasped out as a hoarse rumble, the gravity of the situation impressing itself on all of them. "How did they prevent magic itself from strangling the lifeblood out of humanity?"
The Unspeakable released a breath and opened a small chest. The weight of magic in the air thickened, turning each inhalation into a cloying thing. "The Goblet of Fire was able to be created because it was a simpler version of this." From within the casket, a small, wooden goblet was lifted, its lines clean and functional. Hermione was reminded of the cup of a carpenter that Indiana Jones had chosen, correctly. She blinked as the cup fairly thrummed with power. "The Plight of Troth." Hermione stiffened at the name, her mind immediately running through the meaning of the archaic phrase. The Unspeakable turned to her and extended it out in offering.
With trembling hand, Hermione accepted the goblet, her mind stumbling through thought after thought in a dizzying whirl. The goblet probed at her magic, near tangible tendrils tasting the nature of her magic and her very essence. A frisson of magic danced along her skin and a curled bit of parchment rose from within the empty bowl of the goblet. Hermione stared.
A muffled sound deep in Kingsley's throat could have been startlement or dismay. Hermione couldn't tell through the ringing in her ears. "You've been found worthy." Hermione raised her stricken gaze to the Unspeakable at the odd phrase.
"Worthy of what."
The Unspeakable gestured to the rolled parchment. "Plighting your troth to stabilize magic. Only those who are recognized as having the most potential will be adjudged rightly, and they have to hold the goblet to do so." The Unspeakable turned to Kingsley. "We need the rest of the Order of the Phoenix first. Then we can progress from there." Kingsley's jaw was slack and he stared at the Unspeakable in stupefaction. "Saving magic itself requires sacrifice and joining."
Hermione's fingers trembled as she plucked the parchment from the goblet, its magic quiescent once again. She hadn't even meant to be here today. On a whim, she'd stopped by Kingsley's office, to see if maybe there could be something for her now that the war was done and cells were filled with Death Eaters. She didn't expect to walk in and secure a position right off, no, she expected advice on what she should aim for in order to secure a suitable posting once she completed her NEWTs. She should have stuck with her original idea, to check with Headmistress McGonagall on what needed seeing to first at Hogwarts. The devastation across their world was vast and many hands made light work if set to properly. No, instead of repairing Hogwarts, she was ensconced in the Ministry, clutching at an ancient bloody cup and a bit of paper.
She placed the goblet down on Kingsley's desk and nearly jumped out of her skin at the firm knock on the door. She glanced down at the parchment in her hand, unfurled and her eyes cast over the gilt letters that shimmered with magic and potential.
Plight of Troth
Hermione Jean Granger
Bellatrix Lysandra Rose Black
What MAGICK Hath United Let None Sunder
The firm knock at the door rang out again and Kingsley cleared his throat. "Come."
The wild pink hair of Nymphadora Tonks popped through the door, an easy smile on her face. "Kings, we've got that status in ten. Need - Hermione, are you okay?" The tone of Tonks voice dropped from casual ease to concern at the gobsmacked expression on Hermione's face as she stared at the bit of parchment in her hand.
Tight control clipped Hermione's words as she continued to try to absorb what she was seeing. "Exactly what kind of sacrifice and joining does this ridiculous treaty demand."
"Anyone selected by the Plight of Troth is immediately freed of other obligations, contracts, oaths, or anything else of the like. All records and contracts for whoever you see are already amended irrevocably." Hermione's mind unhelpfully supplied her with the memory of just how pliable she had been beneath the dark witch on the parlor floor of Malfoy Manor. She flinched. "A ceremony must be held to affirm the bond within the season, though before the next moon cycle is ideal." A cold press of goblin forged steel against the skin of her forearm surged forward and she burned. "Afterward, those involved must 'engage in furtherment by their issue, whether of blood or of the heart'." Tonks made a small noise at that and stepped fully into the room, her bright eyes not leaving Hermione's face. "Thankfully this doesn't mean you have to have your own. Adoption is sufficient, and having a large household is encouraged." A strangled noise sounded from the depths of Hermione's throat. "Because of the nature of the threat to the world and the population at the time, the treaty allows for matches regardless of allegiance or creed."
"You're barmy." Tonks flat inflection almost brought a hysterical laugh out of Hermione. She'd accepted well enough that the world itself was likely going to end if something drastic wasn't undertaken. She'd expected a bit of a ritual, maybe, or perhaps a quest to find another item of magical prowess. She was 19, dammit. Meant to figure out whether she wanted to seek out uni and figure out where her life was headed, maybe see if she could secure a position in the Ministry and enact real change for the future. Maybe try dating now and again, now that the fate of the world wasn't...
There was rub, wasn't it? First it was Harry blooming Potter and his mad cap quest to die every chance he got, now it was this. It seemed she was forever fated to carry the weight of the fate of the world, whether she wanted to or not. Obviously. What else did she expect, sunshine and roses?
She glanced at the parchment, the letters glinting at her in twinkling mockery. A rose by any other name doth smell as sweet.
She was going round the bend.
Inhaling, she turned her sharp eyes to Tonks. "Not barmy. Mad, perhaps, but such is the state of the world now." Tonks glanced at Kingsley's desk and frowned, her head tilting as she stepped forward. Before Hermione could stop her, Tonks had picked up the goblet.
"What's all this then?" The oppressive and cloying weight of magic filled the air yet again and parchment rose from within the goblet. Tonks startled and nearly dropped the blasted thing. Hermione sighed, rubbing one hand over her face.
"Great. Okay so if I understand what you've been talking around, the world is going to go through progressively more extreme bouts of natural and unnatural destruction as magic tears itself apart, because of what Tom and his rabble did. In order to save the world and everyone who lives in it, magical and muggle alike, we've got to pass around this bloody cup, accept the matches it spits out regardless of their crimes against us or society, then have kids."
"Yes, precisely."
"...Fuck."