Chapter Sixteen: The Spoils of War
The bodies of the dead enemy were burned just outside of the city. The people of Rowena looked upon their future with uncertainty and confusion as the Gryffindor soldiers carried out wagons of dead bodies, the False King and Slytherin armies piled upon them. What would become of them now? Gazes would occasionally wander to the top of the castle where the banner of Gryffindor flapped in the breeze. The fate of their king had spread through the town like wildfire, fallen from the top of the castle while battling the Gryffindor King and once hero Ravenclaw Knight.
There was no love lost for the death of the Slytherin King but the people had not heard news of their Queen. What had happened? Was she okay? What would become of her now? And of the baby James? Now that the king was dead, the babe had inherited the Slytherin throne and he was nowhere to be found.
~*~
Harry walked into a small and quiet room off to the side of the throne room. There was no light in the room save a small glow of candlelight. Jason rested on the bed in the room, dead, with his sword held in his hands with the point toward his feet. Hermione was seated at his side, her eyes rimmed red and dry having cried all the tears she could. Harry noticed that she was still wearing her blue velvet gown that was now stained with Jason's blood. She was tenderly stroking his hair.
"He was my only friend in Slytherin," her voice was a little rough from crying and disuse. Harry said nothing as he listened patiently to his wife. She looked up at him. "He loved me," she said quietly. "Did you know that? He loved me."
"Have you slept?" he asked her, changing the subject.
She looked at him, disbelieving. "The city is fresh from battle, judging by the fact that you are standing here before me, Slytherin has yielded and Jason is dead. Ask me again if I've slept," she said harshly.
Harry walked over to her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She sighed and leaned into his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be harsh."
He knelt down and turned her so that she faced him. "Hermione…Draco's dead."
She looked at him for a long time. She didn't need to ask how, deep down she knew that Draco fell by Harry's sword.
"Come," he said gently, coaxing her to her feet. Reluctantly, she left Jason's side, leaving him alone, cold and dead in the room. There was nothing more she could do. She grieved all she could for him and she felt a piece of her die along with him.
He led her to her rooms where her ladies were waiting for her. Harry left her to them and they carefully took off her dress, her under-robes were also stained red. What her ladies did with the dress, she didn't know. They probably destroyed it. It didn't matter, she didn't want to ever see the dress again.
Sinking into the tub of warm water unlocked something inside of her and more tears sprang to her eyes.
"You'll be alright, Milady," one of her servants soothed her.
Hermione was dressed in a black dress, the same she wore for the funeral of her father. A pair of Gryffindor knights led her to the throne room. She didn't want to go in there again but she fought down her tears as she entered the room where Jason was murdered.
It was filled with Gryffindor knights, their armor shining and black bands on their arms, Harry stood among them, looking like a king, he also wore a black band. The knights knelt when Hermione entered the room and took her place by Harry's side. Jason was on a litter in the middle of the room, dressed in shined armor and Gryffindor colors.
Harry looked at her with compassion in his eyes. "We cannot move forward until we put the past behind."
Ron moved to take his cousin's arm and whispered words of comfort as a few knights stepped forward to carry Jason's litter. Hermione would follow with Ron at her side, Harry would be after her surrounded by his best and favorite knights with two places held empty for Ron and Jason. More soldiers would follow and at the end, a riderless horse, symbolizing the master she had lost.
The procession made it's way out of the castle, through the city and its gates out into the field to stop at the riverbank. Jason's body was lowered into a craft and wood was piled against him. A few ladies of the court stepped forward to place flowers upon him, Hermione's chambermaids placed wreaths of lily's around him before Hermione finally stepped forward to place a single red rose on him. Her most loyal friend, her candle in her darkest times had gone out of this world.
The tether was cut and Jason's craft floated slowly down the river to be carried out to the sea. After a long silence, the sound of a single arrow could be heard and Hermione watched its path until it came to land on the craft, setting the pyre aflame. A single tear fell down her face, her last tear she would cry for him. Harry couldn't stand Hermione's grief and stepped toward her to place a hand on her shoulder. This gesture was not overlooked by the Gryffindor knights and the spattering of Ravenclaw's nobility that were at the river's edge and they exchanged nervous glances. The reason for Gryffindor's conquering of Rowena became suddenly very clear.
Hermione turned and looked up at him briefly before stepping away to lead the procession back into the castle. Harry hesitated a moment, flexing the hand that had been on her shoulder, before following her.
~*~
She came to him that night and they made love into the early hours of the morning. Slytherin had yielded to Gryffindor so Harry sent Sirius from Hogsmeade to Slytherin as an ambassador to deliver the news that their king was dead. Harry had Slytherin under his thumb while he kept their Queen close at hand.
Two weeks had passed from the battle's end and Harry and Hermione sat in the throne room, Remus diligently taking notes.
"Gryffindor now holds Ravenclaw and the people shall be taxed under the Gryffindor law," Harry proclaimed. The Ravenclaw nobles smiled gratefully.
"This will relieve a great burden on the people, for they were heavily taxed under the rule of Slytherin," Remus said, chancing a glance at Hermione who sat in a throne next to Harry's but her face was impassive.
"The people can now leave the city and be allowed to return to their homes," Harry was saying.
"They should have protection and assistance. With the aid of the Gryffindor soldiers, it will alleviate some fears and tension," Hermione advised.
"Will the people accept my help?" Harry asked.
Hermione smiled. "Rowena hasn't forgotten that you were once a favorite Knight of Ravenclaw. The people need to know that their hero still exists in the King."
Harry looked at her. "Very well," he said softly and dragged his eyes from her to face the court. "This concludes our negotiations between Slytherin and Gryffindor," Harry said as the doors opened and Ron stepped into the room against the flow of those who were leaving. He stepped up to Harry to whisper something to him that brought a smile to him and he turned to Hermione.
"Would you care to take a walk in the garden?" he asked her.
Hermione looked back at him with playful suspicion before holding her hand out to him. With his queen on his arm, he led her out of the castle and to the gardens. It was a lovely day, warm and sunny.
"Harry, what are you up to?" she whispered. They were still being watched.
"Just wanted to take a walk," he shrugged as they stepped into the fragrant haven.
"Take a walk," Hermione repeated not believing him.
"Okay," Harry sighed. "There is someone I'd like you to see." Hermione stopped to look at him and Harry looked over her shoulder. She turned and to her heart's most absolute delight, Minerva stepped from around the corner holding baby James in her arms.
"JAMES!" Hermione shrieked and picked up her skirts to run for the babe. She retrieved him from the witch's arms as James squealed with delight. "James, James, James," Hermione repeated as she kissed her baby and held his warm little body close to her hers, breathing in his familiar baby scent. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat at seeing his wife and son reunited and the beaming smile she sent him filled with love and gratefulness. His family was safe and complete in Rowena with another child on the way.
Minerva left them alone and the family spent the afternoon in the garden. Baby James basked in the love of his mother and father as he discovered the joy of grabbing blades of grass.
~*~
Lord Voldemort slammed his fist down on the table causing the goblet to sway dangerously.
"The Rider holds Hufflepuff, he took Arneau Tak and now that he has captured Rowena…HE HOLDS RAVENCLAW!! That's half the kingdom you miserable excuses for flesh!" he snarled at his Death Eaters. "Not only that, but the filth has more balls than I thought he would and he holds the Slytherin Queen hostage so we might as well concede that he has Slytherin under his thumb as well!"
"But…Milord…"
Voldemort swooped down on them. "I gave you all one simple task. ONE SIMPLE TASK! Take the Queen, take that miserable little queen and bring her here so she can beg for her life and you couldn't even do that! You failed! Now the rider has her under his rule and might I remind you that she will do anything he asks of her as long as he holds her child in Hufflepuff."
"Then you strike first and you strike hard!" Dolohov stood up.
Voldemort eyed him dangerously. "What did you think I was trying to do?" he said slowly.
Dolohov licked his lips nervously but continued on. "We annihilate Hufflepuff, strike at the Rider's home. Send an army so fierce that Hogsmeade will fall to its knees."
"And who will I send to do this? What army can I have to spare now that he's BREATHING DOWN MY NECK?!"
"The Slytherin army," Snape spoke up with cool and calm in his voice.
Voldemort burst out in laughter. "And I suppose you want the Queen to lead it? Lead an army to destroy where her son resides. Her mouth may be a little busy servicing the Rider to save her little neck."
"Not the Queen…" Snape said slowly and he motioned to the doors. They opened and two of the False King's guards entered, dragging a body between them. "It was not a good day for our little King Draco," Snape sneered. "Having been tossed off the tallest point of the castle he had the fortune, or misfortune, to fall right in front of Dolohov and I as we were making our escape. I simple incantation halted his demise and well…here you are."
Voldemort looked at the miserable little king whose hands were bound and mouth gagged. He approached him and struck him across the face, Draco cried out in pain.
"You miserable little traitor," Voldemort spat at him. "Turned your back on me for the pleasures of your little Queen." Draco glared at him. "Well, the Rider has her now and I wonder what pleasures he's receiving from her." Voldemort laughed as Draco yelled obscenities muffled by his gag as he struggled against the two men who held him. Voldemort hit him again and again then yanked his head back by his hair. "Yes, she is probably spreading her legs for him as she once did for you." Draco muttered something. "Yes, yes it makes you mad doesn't it? I can see it in your eyes." He circled the young King. "But, I'm going to offer you one last chance to redeem yourself in my eyes. The chance to take revenge on the man who has taken everything from you. Take something of his, take…Hogsmeade."
Draco paused a moment before laughing. It was a quiet laugh that eventually grew louder. Voldemort looked at him in dismay.
"What? What is it? What is so funny?" he snarled. "Take off his gag!"
The guards obeyed and Draco licked his dry lips, cut and bleeding where the False King had struck him. He glared at him and shook his head.
"Take Hogsmeade? The Rider won't come here begging for a fight for revenge." Draco sighed lazily. "No, he won't show up at your city walls for that."
"Then for what?" Voldemort was quickly losing his patience with this man.
"Can I have some water?" Draco asked.
"What?" Voldemort snapped.
"Water."
Voldemort jerked his head and a guard placed a goblet of water in his hands. Draco eagerly gulped it down.
"For who," he said as he drank.
"For who what?" Voldemort said impatiently.
Draco smirked. "You don't know your enemy very well, do you?"
Voldemort stepped to him. "You're wasting the air you breathe and I'm anxious to put an end to your miserable short time in this world."
"You want the Rider to come to you, you capture someone. That will get his attention."
Voldemort looked at him. "And you know this…someone."
Draco grinned. "You give me a small army, I'll hand you the last of the Gryffindor Kings."
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