Overture {Dramione}

The Mirror

Flattering child, you shall know me
See why in shadow I hide
Look at your face in the mirror
I am there inside

On Monday, there were two things out of place on Hermione's desk.

The first was a note with Ron's familiar scrawl. Bulgaria is beautiful, the note said, one more game left tomorrow and we'll be home Wednesday. I have something special for you. Hermione had rolled her eyes and let the note fall crumpled into the rubbish bin. Shakespeare said brevity is the soul of wit, but Ron's short-handed notes left much to be desired.

The second was that morning's addition to the Quibbler. Which wouldn't have been so odd if Hermione wasn't already subscribed to the magazine and had it delivered via post to her flat every morning. The thing was, Hermione never read the Quibbler. Instead she kept her 4 galleon a month subscription in support of an old friend, Luna, who had taken over for her father after his passing just a year before.

She had little desire to read about the likes of Moon Frogs, Blibbering Humdingers, Heliopaths, Umgubular Slashkilters, Nargles, Aquavirius Maggots, Wrackspurts, Gulping Plimpies, and Dabberblimps. All of which only existed in the recesses of Luna's mind. And so they sat on an empty side table to be used as kindling for the fire. Except for this one.

Hermione ran a thumb over the edge of the magazine. The text was characteristically upside down: CRUMPLE-HORNED SNORKACK SIGHTING! With a blinking image of what looked like a large shadow of a tree captured quickly under it. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed the article off her desk to join the note in the bin when a piece of loose paper fell onto her lap from the flap of the pages.

Her heart leapt.

Page 13. Article in the top left corner. You'll know what to do.

She quickly riffled through the pages, sucking her lip between her teeth as she scanned each individual article on page 13. It reminded her of a muggle rag-mag in the way that several short stories with no affiliation cluttered the page. Top left corner.

The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Announces End to Mandated Wolfsbane Coverage for Werewolves

Department heads announced today that apothecaries can deny wolfsbane to any registered were-persons without means to pay. This is a reversal of the 1994 bill that required all apothecaries to supply wolfsbane potion for free the week leading up to the full moon.

"We no longer have the funds to sponsor potion shops to acquire aconite, or bane, that these shops need," a source comments.

Aconite, a rare and deadly flower, is the main ingredient used to make wolfsbane potion. Until now, the DRCMC allocated funds to privately owned apothecaries for ingredient extraction and income supplementation for the week of free potions. What does this mean for our werewolf friends?

Hermione slumped in her chair, the open magazine falling into her lap. She ran a shaking hand over her mouth. Merlin. She had no clue. How did she have no clue?

Thousands upon thousands of people relied on the free supply of wolfsbane each month. During Greyback's reign of terror he had turned hundreds of men, women, and children who, without this law, would have no access to the suppressant potion they required.

And the worst part was, she didn't know what to do.

She thought of Bill. He hadn't been turned all the way, but still relied on the free supply to quell his sudden violent bursts and craving for raw meat. He wouldn't be able to afford every month from his salary as a contracted curse breaker.