In the Eyes of the Beholder

This day wasn’t going well for the Minister of Magic. After dealing with several failures from the Department of Magical Enforcement at catching some Death Eaters and also dealing with three renegade dragons that were terrorizing the northern villages, being in this meeting was the last thing Kingsley Shaklebolt wanted to do. Several Heads of Department were looking at possible resolutions for the “Greatest Magical Crisis of All Time,” as the Daily Prophet had so cheerfully stated.

“ I don’t think that you understand the gravity of the situation,” Pullman said, pounding his heavy fist into the large circular table, “If you thought we were bad before, now, after this war, we are close to extinction!”

There was a slight pause for a moment before a man named Mallory Lucus dared to contradict.

“But do you really think that having a Marriage law would solve anything? After all, the population you are talking about, 20-30s, were the ones most severely hit by the War. A recent census shows that there might be one man to every three woman.”

“Well, w-what if we l-lower the age to 17? After all, t-that is the a-age when every w-wizard becomes of age, able to s-speak for h-himself or herself,” said a timid little wizard who went by the name of Boons.

“You Sir are proposing that we give this war-torn generation no time to recover! We are sending them from a dreadful war straight into a domestic one! I have a child in that age, a young boy, Seamus. And I can tell you for sure that he isn’t ready for this type of commitment. Not to mention this will be the most unpleasant law in centuries! We are meddling too close into people’s lives!” said Head of Magical Interrelations, Thomas Finnigan.

Kingsley spoke up, “Mind you Tom, this isn’t a meeting about publicity. This meeting’s sole purpose is to ensure the existence of magic and our way of life.”

Tom Finnigan looked accusingly at the Minister before retaking his seat.

“Tom brings up a good point though,” said a bright witch from the Department of Misuse of Magic who went by the name of Belinda Corksetter. “If we are going to do this, we need to have classes to adjust these children, especially the younger children, to a family life. One where they get to make the decisions. Perhaps even classes on how to take care of babies and infants. I know that the Muggle world had this kind of class where each couple adopted a doll or something.”

“Kingsley, are we going to break up existing couples? Shouldn’t they all have a chance to find love?” questioned a young witch whose name Kingsley had forgotten.

“No, I think that all existing couples have the right to appeal for being each other’s partners, and if the paired couples find someone else within the allotted time, they can exchange partners, granted that the two who want to be paired show significant proof of love and not just a defiance for Ministry rules.”

“We should have limits,” chimed in Walter Brooks, an unruly haired, much-too-young eager assistant. “Set dates on when the couples should be married, and need to procreate by or something along those lines. Don’t you think so?”

“Give them a year to be married. To learn each other, to grow as people,” said Tom Finnigan. He added sarcastically “Unless they all die or flee the country, they will still be here after a year.”

There seemed to be the first general consensus.

“And two years for a child after marriage.”

“No, three”

“No, one”

The room erupted into chaos. Kingsley let the argument pursue until most of the participants grew tired.

“Let the timing of pregnancy progress as it should,” Kingsley said over the argument, “After marriage, contraceptives will be magically banned, and all spells, charms, and objects will cease working. I am sure we have clever enough people in the Ministry to make this happen. The woman must be pregnant five months after marriage.”

The arguments ceased after that.

“Weasley,” Kingsley called to his assistant, and Percy Weasley raised his head, “Draft a file on this new Law, and I want to see a bill to sign on my desk by this afternoon, as well as names for the potential candidates for the new Department of the Advancement of Magical Existance.”

“Yes, Sir. And Sir? Your next trial starts in thirty minutes”

“Thank you, Weasley. Come, walk with me. Everyone, thank you for coming. You are free to return to your posts.” Kingsley exited the chamber, followed at his heals by the very efficient Percy Weasley.

“Percy, what do you think of this?”

“Honestly Sir, I think it’s a bad idea, but it seems like a necessary law.”

“That’s what I thought too. After you finish with the file, go home. Explain it to Molly and Arthur, they will find out anyway in tomorrow’s paper. It would be nice to have one ally in this. And warn your brothers and sister. Tell Molly and Arthur that I will stop by for dinner after the trial.”

“Yes, Sir.” And with that he watched Percy Weasley walk away and disappear around the next corridor.

“And, good luck” he whispered, “to all of you.”

***Trials***

Kingsley Shacklebolt sat in one of the larger Ministry rooms. The center of the room was surrounded on all sides by rows of elevated seats, purposefully done to give the illusion of no escape. It was the same room in which Fudge, blast that man, had almost expelled Harry in his fifth year of Hogwarts.

They were continuing trials on the Death Eaters. The general consensus had been five to fifteen years in Azkaban, depending on the severity of the crimes. Only a few had been sentenced to the Dementor’s kiss, namely Bellatrix Lestrange, after which she was sent to live out the rest of her years in a government facility, without magic and without a soul. Kingsley shuddered. It was a horrid punishment, but after she had tried to Crucio another ministry official with a guard’s wand, Kingsley couldn’t justify that the punishment was unwarranted. It was Lucius Malfoy’s turn today.
The blond man entered through the heavy wooden doors, his head still proudly set with his thin sharp nose pointed directly at the Minister. Kingsley sighed. It will be hard having any sympathy for this man, but it was true that his family still had a lot of influence within the Ministry. Malfoy had forgone punishment after the first war by claiming that he had been under the influence of the Cruciatus curse, but then had gone willingly back to his former dark master. As the present Minister of Magic, Kingsley would see to it that he gave that man his just desserts.

Kingsley looked straight into the man’s eyes. Something about Lucius Malfoy had changed from the times before the war. There were purple bags under those piercing grey eyes, and lines etched across his high forehead. Kingsley had heard from the guard posted by Malfoy’s cell that Malfoy received everyday visits from his proud and prickly wife, and even entertained his son twice a week. When the guard had told him first of this, Kingsley had laughed out loud at Malfoy’s attempt at being a doting father and husband. He had even been worried that the guard might have fallen victim to a hex or enchantment, although knowing fully well that no spells or enchantments could be performed on Azkaban grounds. After getting sufficiently annoyed at the guard’s persistence, he borrowed Harry’s cloak and went to witness the miracle himself.

Sure enough, at precisely one o’clock, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy Apparated outside of Azkaban and proceeded through all the necessary visitor’s check-in precautions. Half an hour later, the central guard walked the pair of them to Lucius’s cell, opening the bars momentarily to let the two in and then shutting it tightly again. The three of them didn’t display any traditional forms of familial bonding, apart from a quick kiss that Lucius and Narcissa shared at the beginning and end of the session. They sat there for another half hour, just talking, coming to terms with each other and their possible fates, and Kingsley watched them, mesmorized. The man he thought contained nothing but a bitter, proud heart kissed his wife and hugged his son tightly. Kingsley remembered how the older man had begged to the Dark Lord at the Final Battle for the life of his son. After he was sure his family was gone, Lucius wept.

That day, Kingsley left Azkaban even more unsure of justice than he had ever been in his long fifty years. After that, Kingsley returned every week, watching, waiting, planning. And he realized it soon after. Lucius had infinite resources and tremendous influence within the Wizarding World. Here was the man that could unite the entire pureblood world under his flag. If only Kingsley could make sure Lucius wouldn’t revert to his old ways and instead comply with the Ministry, Lucius could bridge the two war-torn parties. And Kingsley would try everything in his power to see this through.