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"You'd have thought some things would have changed after all we've lived though, but no! Family name is still more important than character or accomplishment," Hermione seethed. She jabbed the prongs of her cake fork in Harry's direction before skewering another morsel of, the admittedly delicious, double chocolate fudge cake from the ministry canteen.
"Who's upset you today?" Ron asked. He never hesitated before bravely careening into whatever her latest project might involve. She appreciated this truly Gryffindor characteristic of one of her two closest friends.
"Wizengamot seats!" Hermione stated, stabbing her fork into her plate.
"What about them?" Harry asked. He rubbed his scar, sweeping back the messy fringe he'd grown in a futile attempt at disguise.
"The way they are assigned is completely unfair. You are eligible for one due to the Potter family's standing. As is Ron as a member of a sacred twenty-eight family." She gestured at Ron, who was busy shovelling a sizeable chunk of cake into his mouth.
"I'm not," Ron mumbled, crumbs tumbling onto the table. He wiped his hand across his lips. Hermione glared at him; Molly would have had a fit if she'd seen him behaving in such an uncouth manner. He threw his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, I guess I could have been eligible for a seat. But Percy was far more suited to the position, he's taken Dad's seat. Who wants to sit listening to a bunch of old farts debating the best colour for the ministry atrium walls anyway?"
"Percy," Harry muttered and both men snorted.
"I do," Hermione snapped. Tea spattered across the table as she slammed her cup down. "Well not to discuss wall colours or whether to have blinds or curtains. I want to be able to make a difference. The Wizengamot is my chance. Or it would be. If only I was eligible for a seat."
"Have you petitioned for one?" Harry asked.
"Of course. Apparently Granger isn't a prestigious enough name." What did Harry think she'd spent her time doing? He should know her better than that!
For the last six months there had been grand posters proudly plastered across the walls in the ministry's main atrium declaring Wizengamot seats were available for application, but she'd been rapidly rejected after every submission. War hero meant nothing compared to years of wizarding family history. The entire advertisement campaign was a scam. A façade to hide the ever present pureblood bias that still haunted the heart of the ministry.
"Like that's ever stopped you before," Harry replied.
"She's got that look," Ron interjected suddenly. "You've got a plan."
She struggled to keep her lip from lifting; Harry and Ron had been surprisingly easy to manipulate into this topic of conversation."I do have got a plan," she agreed. "I need a different name, one that includes a Wizengamot seat. I'm sure you are both fully aware of the easiest method to acquire a more prestigiously heritaged name."
"You're going to marry someone for their name?" Harry asked just as Ron said, "You're mad."
"Not exactly," Hermione corrected and both men let out a sigh. "A single name isn't enough, very few wizards or witches would be willing to give up their seat, even to their spouse. But if they had a spare seat…" She allowed her sentence to trail.off, allowing Harry and Ron to catch on to her implication.
"Someone eligible for two seats," Harry posited.
Hermione nodded. It was almost fun leading them through her carefully constructed plans. Even if her heart was now thudding against her ribs as she waited for the opportune moment to reveal the final piece of this jigsaw.
"But that's very unusual," Ron said speaking slowly. "I mean, I know that once Aunt Muriel pops it, then the Prewitt seat will pass into our family but there are six of us that could take it. To be honest I think George has his eye on it, thinks it'll wind up Percy. Even if he doesn't, it's not like Percy would be granted the seat to give to whoever he wishes."
"George would definitely wind up Percy if he was on the Wizengamot too," Harry agreed, laughing.
"No, Ron is right, I'd need someone who was the sole heir to two seats," Hermione said. "Someone without any siblings."
"That's highly unlikely," Harry replied. "Even only children rarely have two pureblooded lines linked to only them."
"It sounds like you have someone in mind," Ron said. He'd placed his fork down, the cake half-eaten in his plate.
"I do. I know of one person. Well we all know him actually."
"Who?" they both asked at once.
"But I'm not sure you'll like it. Remember I'd only be marrying him for the seat nothing else. It's not like it'd be a love match." She knew they'd probably react badly to the revelation, but she needed their support. The thought of going through with this simmered uncomfortably in the cauldron of her stomach. But it was important. That seat was worth it. She could ensure many things to obtain it. But she doubted she could do it long-term without her friends support.
"Who?" they repeated.
"Draco Malfoy," she rushed out so quickly the syllables blurred together.
"You can't!" Ron almost shouted. Several pairs of eyes from people at the nearby tables swiveled to glare at him as Hermione cast a swift muffling charm.
"Why not?" she demanded. She was an adult; she could make her own choices.
"He's a Malfoy! They are evil and famous muggleborn haters to boot," Ron replied. "Sounds like a terrible idea to me. Nothing could be worth marrying that."
"He's also apparently redeemed," Hermione corrected. "He's made numerous donations to funds for muggleborn students." She shook her head. His support of her projects had been unexpected. On reflection though she'd realised it was a typical Slytherin scheme; what had a few galleons and well placed photographs cost him in comparison to the restoration of his name that it had achieved. "But most importantly," she continued, "he's the sole heir to both the Malfoy and Black seats. He's already accepted the Malfoy seat after his father's incarceration and the Black seat is vacant, I checked. I also spoke to Andromeda and she wants nothing to do with it, so it's available. It's perfect."
"Donating money is a far cry from marrying someone. I doubt he'd miss a few thousand galleons to enhance his business prospects," Ron sneered. The niffler in her chest rooted deeper; she knew he wasn't wrong. And yet, what if Malfoy had changed? Even if not fully, there was lots she could offer him. War hero might not buy a seat, but it was hardly to sniff at.
"And Malfoy has agreed to this?" Harry asked.
"Not yet, no. I still need to speak to him actually. I'm sure he's persuadable though."
"Persuadable? What are you going to offer him?" Ron asked.
"You'll see." Hermione tapped the side of her nose.
"You are not going to do anything illegal to get him to agree to this, are you?" Harry asked.
"Of course not. Thanks for being so understanding." She planted a kiss on both of their cheeks and rushed from the canteen to put the next stage of her plan into action.