Magique by the_real_mrs_potter

Rating: NC17
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 14/03/2011
Last Updated: 11/07/2012
Status: Completed

In a land of myth and a time of magic, the destiny of the great kingdoms of Hogwarts rest in the
hands of a young prince, his most trusted knight, and the woman who captured his heart. Follow them
on their journey after their great success of uniting the four kingdoms, where their lives have
been paved with their triumph. But peace is not always sweet. And soon our heros will learn that in
order to move forward you must first deal with the true consequences of your actions - friendships
will be tested, loves will be lost, and a new king will be crowned.




1. Intro
--------



**A/N: Hello all! Wow, it's been a long break but I hope the wait will be well worth it for
this story - key word:** **hope****. I've been super busy and won't bore you with
details but if you have an irrepressible need to know what I've been doing these past few
months, you can always hit me up on my Formspring and Tumblr accounts, which are both linked on my
author's page. Now, onto the story! It's a bit different from what I've done before but
I really wanted to challenge myself. This here is more of an introduction than a chapter but it is
definitely needed for this story. So I'm sorry if you don't like it but it does set up the
story in a very good way that will save me from answering a bunch of questions. The only thing I am
going to dispute right now is that in this story the Potter's are decedents of Godric
Gryffindor. It is necessary. End of story. Also, the plotline is going to be loosely (and I
mean** **very** **loosely) based on some of my favorite TV shows and movies that center
around this era. So, without further ado, here it is! Welcome to** **Magique****!**

**A big shout out to my always amazing beta, Vincent! You rock my world.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of his amazingness only belong to me in my dreams.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter One: Intro

There once was a land hidden from normal Muggle sight by the magic of which it was built. It was
a place of excitement and wonder - one with dragons flying through the sky like blue jays, children
laughing as they rode their first broomsticks, and gossiping witches giggling over the latest
trends in dress robes. This was the land of Hogwarts, split into four kingdoms: Gryffindor,
Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each was ruled by a royal family descending from the original
mighty founders. But with their ancestor's history came a long line of feuds that still spill
into the kingdom today.

When Hogwarts was first built, the four founders were the closest of friends. Godric Gryffindor,
the brave and loyal hero. Helga Hufflepuff, the kind, hard-working lady. Rowena Ravenclaw, the
witty and knowledgeable heroine. Salazar Slytherin the cunning and sly snake. Together they created
kingdoms where magical folk could live in peace without being prosecuted by Muggles and the terrors
they used to hunt them in a time of ignorance and hatred. Their friendship created a safe haven,
and soon after, a way of living for those of magical descent and their families. But all of this
was in vain when Slytherin stopped allowing Muggleborn wizards and their families into his kingdom,
claiming they would turn against them and begin a war upon their safe ground.

At first, Slytherin's method remained hidden from his fellow founders. But soon word began
to spread and the remaining three staged an intervention, threatening that if he did not stop his
prejudice he would be exiled from Hogwarts for the remainder of his life. Slytherin chose to leave,
accusing the three of Muggle-sympathy and unjust views. He tried to take his young wife and son to
accompany him but they refused, agreeing with his now sworn enemies. He placed a curse upon their
castle, claiming that the dungeons would consume them all along with the tainted blood residing in
the kingdoms. His words remained fallacious but after his exile, a rebellion sparked in his kingdom
that agreed with his views. They made it their goal to avenge his leaving by purging the kingdoms
of Muggleborns and their families.

Innocent blood, both magic and not, was shed for years before Slytherin's followers were
wiped out or forced into hiding. For nearly a century the kingdoms remained in peace until rumors
began circulating of mysterious murders in Slytherin. Investigations proved that the victims were
all Muggleborn. Manners to stop these slaughters were all tried but none could catch the illusive
murderer. Soon all that anyone could do was put up wards and pray. The royal families all went into
hiding, their location only known by a designated secret keeper. Unfortunately for the Gryffindor
royals, their safe hideaway was compromised. On Halloween night, the killer now known as Lord
Voldemort snuck into the small town of Godric's Hollow just outside of Gryffindor and murdered
the king and queen. Both were known members of the resistance identified by common folk as the
Order of the Phoenix, making them and their infant son a prime target for the Dark Lord and his
followers. Unbeknownst to Lord Voldemort, his plans to eliminate the one organization bent on his
demise would be cut short.

After murdering his parents, the only heir to the throne, Harry, was next to be eliminated. As
the Dark Lord raised his wand and shouted the curse meant to end the boy's life, something
extraordinary happened. The spell rebounded and destroyed the caster instead, leaving a frightened,
scarred prince alone in his crib. He was rescued only minutes later by the all-knowing court
consultant, Albus Dumbledore, and the groundskeeper of Gryffindor castle, Rubeus Hagrid. Since
Harry was only a year old and the king and queen had no other living relatives, Gryffindor was
short a ruler. After days of court deliberation, the king's right hand man, Sirius Black, was
named as acting king of Gryffindor until Harry came of age.

Throughout these events, the king of Slytherin, King Thomas Riddle II, was reported missing.
Countless search parties were sent to find him in all four kingdoms and outlining villages. After a
year of no results, the king was declared dead and the acting king, Lucius Malfoy, was crowned.
Gryffindor and Slytherin had rulers once more, though it did not stop the hate crimes still
plaguing the lower towns of the kingdoms where the Muggleborns and their families lived.

Muggleborn witches and wizards are found by magical detections when they are toddlers and show
their first signs of magic. Their parents are then given a letter, inviting them to stay in
Hogwarts for their protection. If the family chooses to move to Hogwarts, they are given a home in
one of the lower towns of a kingdom of which they can reside. If not, they have the choice of
sending their child to Hogwarts when they turn eleven so the witch or wizard has a choice in the
development of their powers. The child will then stay in a “Common Room” where they are given a bed
to sleep in, food, and a free magical education. Because the lower towns were composed of
Muggleborns and their families, the wards and protective charms were considerably weaker than those
of the upper towns where half- and pure blood families resided, making them easy targets for the
remaining followers of the former Dark Lord, or Death Eaters as they were named.

In a land of myth and a time of magic, the destiny of these great kingdoms rested in the hands
of a young prince, his most trusted knight, and the woman who captured his heart. Together they
lifted the darkness that loomed over Hogwarts and solved the mystery that was hidden in
Slytherin's walls, finding not only themselves along the way, but a new hope that united the
four kingdoms once more.

This is where our story begins.

-->



2. A Feminine Touch
-------------------



**A/N: From the feedback I've been getting, you guys are receiving this story a lot better
than I originally thought so thank you so much for having faith in me and my writing. I hope that
you will bear with me because this story is going to be a bit slow to start but it will get better,
I promise! Loads and loads of Harry/Hermione goodness in on the way, just you wait.**

**Thanks again to my beta, Vincent! He may not like the story that much, but he's still a
lifesaver when it comes to my poor grammer skills.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine nor will it ever be. -cries-**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter Two: A Feminine Touch

“Harry! Harry! Oh Harry, honestly, put down that blasted sword and come inside! Sirius is in a
right state.”

Harry turned around and saw none other than his best friend with her hands resting on her waist
in a stance of the utmost annoyance. Her hair was in disarray and she was slightly out of breath
from her trek across the grounds. He would have laughed if she didn't look so angry. Nothing
scared him more than an irate Hermione. And with the things that he'd seen in his life, that
was saying quite a lot.

“Oh come on, Hermione,” He wined, doing a complicated manoeuvre that made his sword glisten in
the sunlight. “You above everyone else should admire that I'm practicing my swordsmanship.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “And I above everyone else should smack you upside the head for being
late for another Council meeting.”

His eyes widened. “Oh shit, that wasn't this afternoon, was it?”

She nodded her head slowly and he cursed under his breath. He readjusted the sword in his hand
and took out his wand, banishing it to the armory. On a normal day he would have walked it there
himself, taking special care not to damage it. But today was not a normal day. The Council was here
in Gryffindor and he was late for the meeting. Again.

“I reminded you a hundred times yesterday.” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “What, dare I ask,
encouraged you to forget that? Even *Ron* was there on time.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Harry said quickly, stripping off his armor and flinching as the
spotless metal clunked against the hard ground.

Hermione sighed and took pity on him. She walked over to him and removed each of his bracers,
placing them carefully on the ground. She looked him over once and frowned. Raising her hand, she
brushed some dirt out of his messy hair and nodded to herself.

“Well, you're not exactly dressed to impress but I'm sure they'll overlook it.”

He smiled softly. “Thank you, Hermione.”

“You're welcome, Harry.” She returned his smile. “Now go on before they send out a search
party.”

He nodded once and took off to the castle behind her. She turned around and watched him,
laughing quietly to herself. If she didn't have so much confidence in the future king, she
would have worried for the wellbeing of Gryffindor. But she knew what he was capable of and there
was no doubt in her mind that, despite his few faults, he would be the best king this kingdom had
ever seen.

~*~

Harry was out of breath as he burst through the double-doors that lead into the great hall. All
heads turned to him and he felt himself redden. He spotted the kingdom representatives seated
around the long table and thanked Merlin this wasn't an official meeting of the royals. He
would never be able to recover from missing one of them. His boots clunked against the stone floor
as he went to his seat between his godfather and king of Gryffindor, Sirius Black, and his most
trusted knight and friend, Ronald Weasley. The leader of the council, Kingsley Shacklebolt, looked
at him with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Nice of you to join us, Harry,” Kingsley said, his voice echoing throughout the hall.

“Sorry, Councilman,” he replied softly. “It won't happen again.”

“I should hope not. We wouldn't want the future king of Gryffindor late to his own
coronation next year now would we?”

“No, sir.” Harry said, his face turning an even darker shade of scarlet.

“Oh go easy on the young lad.”

Every face turned toward to Kingsley's right, where the court consultant Albus Dumbledore
resided. He was known to be somewhat of an oracle and spent most of his time training young nobles,
including Harry, to reach their fullest potential. Sometimes his opinions were regarded as better
than even the lead Councilman, which is what drove the last one out of office. Kingsley, however,
was one of his former students and took his opinions to heart.

“I am sure that when the time comes, Harry will be more than capable to take the crown with
dignity, honor, and timeliness.” The old consultant had a sparkle in his eyes. “Right, my boy?”

“Of course.” Harry replied.

Kingsley nodded and addressed the rest of the room. “Now that that's settled, we shall begin
the meeting. The first order of business is the third annual Freedom Ball in celebration of the
defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort. I assume Gryffindor will be holding the festivities?”

Sirius spoke up. “Yes sir, we would be honored.”

“Good.” Kinsley said. “On that note, I do have a slight change in assignment.” There were slight
murmurings among the Council as he shuffled through a pile of parchment and pulled out a small
folded piece. He squinted as he read the intricate handwriting. “Miss Elizabeth Fowl and her
daughter, Lady Clara of Ravenclaw have filed an official request to come to Gryffindor a fortnight
prior to the ball to assist in the preparations.”

“And what has brought this on?” Sirius asked curiously.

Kingsley looked back down at the parchment. He chuckled and looked up. “It seems as though they
feel that a feminine touch is needed in the castle of Gryffindor.”

A few laughs echoed throughout the room. It was well known that neither Harry nor Sirius had
chosen to settle down, though the female suitors wishing to be in their company were never few. The
only females residing in the castle at all were the maids, court matron, and, of course, the newly
crowned Lady Hermione, who after assisting in the defeat of Voldemort became the first Muggleborn
witch to earn the title of Lady in the history of Hogwarts. But despite these residing women, the
absence of a Queen and Princess overshadowed their presence.

“Is this request granted, Sirius?” Kingsley asked.

Attention shifted to the king and Sirius looked at Harry for a moment before answering, but he
seemed to be lost in his thoughts. He looked back up at the head of the table. “I don't see why
not. I fear that I agree with Miss Elizabeth - Gryffindor is in dire need of a feminine presence
when making these decisions.”

“But we have Hermione.” Harry blurted, interrupting any further elaboration that his godfather
might have said. The quiet rumble of voices started up again with his outburst.

“Indeed,” Sirius answered over the whispers. “But it doesn't hurt to have more help. What
harm could it do, really?”

“Have we had complaints about the way the balls have been arranged previous to this request?”
Harry countered. The question was directed more at the Council than his godfather, but he refused
to remove his eyes from Sirius.

“There have been some rumors throughout the kingdoms among the hierarchy.” Amos Diggory, the
Hufflepuff representative said. Harry looked over at him. “Nothing too dramatic, of course, just
whispers of a pitchy orchestra or overused color scheme.”

“And these are whispers enough to enlist the assistance of two Ladies in the planning of a ball
that is designated to run on Gryffindor soil?” Harry asked angrily.

“Kingdom unity is always a top priority when deciding these tasks. Are you against the help of
your sister kingdom, your highness?” Draco Malfoy, prince of Slytherin and kingdom representative
asked slyly.

Harry answered through clenched teeth. “Of course I'm not. I just find it ludicrous that
because a gathering lacks femininity, it should be a reason to enlist assistance as though
suggesting the drapery contributes to the overall meaning of the ball itself. We are celebrating
the defeat of a Dark Lord, not showing off our floral patterns.”

“But showmanship does contribute to the overall mood of a ball, don't you agree?” Draco
smirked. “You can't expect people to enjoy themselves when the chandelier is missing an entire
section of jewels.”

“That was damaged in the final battle and is a symbol of triumph.” Harry defended. “Besides,
what does vanity have to do with anything? Just because something isn't perfect doesn't
mean it has to be fixed.”

“Tell that to your mistress who just passed a law through your king to strengthen the wards in
the lower towns.”

“That was a law passed by the *king*.”

“On paper, yes, but word around the kingdoms is that the prince's favorite coerced the king
to do her bidding.”

“What should it matter when it helped the people of the land be better protected?” Harry asked,
his temper rising with every word. “Are you insinuating that Muggleborns shouldn't have the
right to stronger protection?”

“Of course not, I'm simply inquiring about the amount of persuasion a Lady has over her
king.”

“If the result is for the greater good, it shouldn't cross anyone's mind that it is
something worth fretting over.”

“Naturally you would stick up for the woman who warms your highnesses' sheets.”

“And what exactly are you implying?”

“You know very well what I and many others think of your Mud—”

“Harry, Draco, if you please. Let's keep this discussion on the present task at hand, shall
we?” Kingsley interrupted before Draco could tarnish his kingdom any further.

Harry looked at him and spoke softly. “Sorry, Councilman.”

Draco repeated the apology and Harry ground his teeth. He should have expected Draco to speak
out of turn. He was only trying to get under his skin and nothing else. Never mind that he and the
entire Slytherin royal family was supposed to be in Azkaban for their affiliation with Voldemort in
the war. They had been pardoned and continued to rule unjustly in their kingdom.

“Harry, do you have an official objection to the request of the Fowl's assistance?”

Harry didn't know how to answer that question. Truthfully, he didn't know why he had
spoken up to begin with. There was no harm in allowing two new women into their castle to assist in
the preparation of a ball - something he always dreaded doing anyway. Planning balls was the one
thing that he absolutely despised in his line of princely duties. But he had felt a need to bring
up Hermione's name, to defend her, even though she wasn't fond of planning balls either.
Since she was the only woman of title in the household, she was called upon for decisions like
these but was about as clueless on silk versus satin as he was. But that still didn't change
the fact that she was the Lady of the castle and would most likely take it as an insult when two
new women of title requested to assist in the preparations for the festivities.

All eyes were on him and he realized that he had been silent for more time than was deemed
appropriate. Knowing that he would face many questions if he didn't side with his godfather, he
spoke without letting his opinions show.

“If it would be in the best interests of the ball to have them here, then no, Councilman, I have
no formal objections.”

Sirius nodded once and turned back to Kingsley. “They can stay in the west wing. I'll have
one of the maids prepare a room for them tonight. If my calculations are correct, the fortnight
begins three days from today.”

“Right you are, Sirius.” Dumbledore said. “I will write the confirmation letter myself, and send
it with the Ravenclaw representative. I hope you do not mind, Xenophilius.”

“Of course not, Dumbledore,” Xenophilius answered kindly.

After the matter of the Fowls was settled, Harry tuned out of the rest of the meeting, only
speaking up when necessary. He immediately regretted not sticking to his opinion but Hermione was
not regarded very well among members of the Council after last year. Comments like Draco's were
similar to the thoughts of many. Harry sticking up for her would not only make people question his
authority, but put her in danger. Anyone on the bad side of the Council was as good as dead and
although it was headed by Kingsley, a kind and just leader, it was still risky.

The meeting lasted another half hour and after discussing the dwindling number of lower town
attacks within the last month, something Harry felt the need to smile proudly about for the entire
discussion, it adjourned. Harry made a beeline for the exit, Ron following close behind. Normally
he would have stayed a while longer to talk with Dumbledore or Sirius, but because of his small
outburst he didn't want to risk any unneeded conversation.

After every meeting, the two of them always went to Hermione's quarters to inform her about
what went on inside the meeting. When her request to be put on the Gryffindor court was denied, she
had made them promise to keep her up to date on the discussions that took place. Her room was on
the topmost floor of the castle overlooking the gardens and was the farthest from the great hall.
They reached her door in a few minutes and Harry knocked three times quickly and twice slowly to
signal it was him and Ron on the other side. It opened and they slipped inside.

Hermione was sitting on her favorite chair by the fireplace, her feet tucked underneath her and
a book closed on her lap. She looked at the two of them with eager anticipation. “So, what did I
miss?”

Harry and Ron took their normal seats on the two chairs opposite her and scooted them forward so
that they were in a close circle. Harry spoke first. “The attacks have almost completely stopped in
the lower towns.”

She smiled. “That's good news.”

“Of course it was all thanks to the new wards that were set up last month with the new law.” Ron
said with a knowing smirk.

“That *someone* in this room helped petition to pass.” Harry finished.

“Yes, I suppose that would help a bit.” Hermione said as she blushed. “But it's not all my
doing, surely. Sirius was kind enough to help me plead my case to the Council. Without him it
wouldn't have been considered at all.”

“You're far too modest for your own good, Hermione.” Harry said. “We all know that
you're the mastermind behind it all, no matter what the proclamation says.”

She bowed her head and Harry couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked when she was
embarrassed. Of course, he always thought she looked pretty; something he repeatedly told her and
resulted in similar actions to what she was doing now.

She looked back up at Harry. “You didn't get in too much trouble for being late did
you?”

He smirked. “Do I ever?”

She rolled her eyes and pressed on. “Anything else happen?”

“Nothing important,” Harry said quickly.

“Well, not *very* important.” Ron continued.

She noticed that the both of them were sporting identical looks of guilt on their faces. They
never kept things from her before and they weren't doing a good job of it now. She gave them a
stern look and asked, “What is it?”

Ron was the first to meet her eyes. “Well, there was a request from Ravenclaw to assist in the
planning of the Freedom Ball.”

“Oh.” She said, relieved. “Well, that's good, isn't it? We could use some help planning
it since no one in this castle is very fond of it - especially the decorations.”

“That's the thing…” Ron said solemnly. “The request came from two women that felt that the
castle needed `a feminine touch.'”

“*A feminine touch?*” Hermione repeated icily. “And *what* is that supposed to mean?
In order to throw a party you have to know the difference between silk and satin?”

“Apparently.” Harry said solemnly.

Hermione felt her anger rise. Though she knew that their concern most likely had nothing to do
with her, she still took the insinuation to heart.

“Harry did bring up your name, though.” Ron said. Harry looked over and glared at him.

“You did?” She asked, looking over at Harry with wide eyes.

“Er, yeah.”

“Oh, Harry, you didn't need to. I'm about as helpful around here as a dirty rag.”

“Don't say that.” Harry said seriously. He reached across and put his hand atop hers “You
help around here plenty! Sure, it's not with all of the pretty things but when it comes to
things that matter you're practically the queen.”

Her cheeks colored at the comparison and she squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Harry.”

He returned the pressure. “I only speak the truth.”

Their eyes connected and Hermione looked away, her face warming. Harry let go of her hand and
Ron cleared his throat.

“Harry's right, Hermione. This castle wouldn't function without you. No new arrivals are
ever going to change that, especially ones that think so lowly of our femininity.”

Hermione looked at the two of them in turn, her eyes shining. “Thank you - *both* of you. I
don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Let's hope we don't have to find out.” Harry said gently.

The three of them shared identical soft smiles. They had been inseparable for nine years and
none wished any different. They had been through more than people twice their age, both good and
bad, and it had only strengthened their bond. It was moments like these that reminded them that
they still had a long journey ahead of them. And what a journey it would be.

Ron chose to speak up first, daring to test the tender moment. “Well, they arrive in three days
time. I'd say that's plenty of time to prepare for an overload of femininity.”

The three of them laughed together.

“Let's hope that they won't drive all of us mad with their feminine presence. Merlin! If
they think we don't have enough, they may have too much to handle.” He continued.

Harry turned to Ron, a grin plastered on his face. “Granted, they *are* from Ravenclaw -
land of the erudite. How bad could they possibly be?”

Like many things Harry said, he didn't know how wrong he was.

-->



3. The Fowls
------------



**A/N: Hey sorry this chapter was late but complications arose and my beta still has yet to get
back to me. If he ever does, I'll repost this chapter with his changes. If not… well you'll
just have to deal with a self-edited chapter. But anywhooo thank you all so much for all of your
amazing feedback! I hope as I get deeper into the story, it'll get much better. And if it works
out the way I'm planning it to, hopefully that'll be soon**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, I am not J.K. Rowling, blah blah blah. Stop making
me bitter, damn you!**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 3: The Fowls

The kingdom of Gryffindor had been abuzz since the announcement that two new women would be
staying inside the castle to help prepare for the Freedom Ball. Whispers began immediately
throughout the town with everyone trying to piece together who exactly these women were. But for
the safety of the Ladies, no official statement had been made other than that they were from the
neighboring ally kingdom of Ravenclaw. Many speculated that it was the queen and her daughter, but
those statements were quickly shot down by the king. Who exactly were these women, the kingdom
wondered, and why were they being kept such a secret?

Inside the castle, however, there was a different kind of buzz going around. Everyone from the
maids to the cook knew of the new arrivals and who they were - the only question was why they were
so keen to come and assist in the preparations. Sure, the balls had never been perfect, but nothing
ever was after the war.

Each member of the castle staff put their best work efforts into the ball each year and was hit
with different emotions from hurt and offense when they heard of the new arrivals and what their
reason for coming turned out to be. Because of this, gossip among the staff ran rampant,
particularly about the Fowl's past. It was well-known that Elizabeth Fowl had been widowed soon
after the birth of her daughter, Clara, and the only thing saving them from poverty was their good
name and ties with the royal family of Ravenclaw. Some of the more bitter members of the staff
speculated that the only reason they were coming here was to rub shoulders with the king and young
prince, hoping to win their favor as well. Only the good-hearted waved these whispers off,
wondering why someone would question an offer to tighten the ties between kingdoms and restore the
unity that once was.

That was the funny thing about war. It always made you question motives, even if it had ended
years ago and the people in question were your close allies.

Up in his room, Harry wasn't looking forward to greeting these new women. He had heard the
whisperings floating about the castle and was becoming increasingly paranoid. The only person
keeping him sane was Hermione telling him that he had no reason to worry. Sometimes even then he
couldn't find the will to calm down.

Three knocks on his door startled him from his thoughts. He turned around and called, “Come
in.”

Hermione and Ron entered his chambers, each dressed in their best clothes. Ron in his red and
gold robes and Hermione in a matching flowing dress, her hair pulled back to frame her smiling
face. They were both the picture of Gryffindor royalty. Harry glanced down at his own attire and
remembered that he, too, was dressed in similar apparel save for the crown that was still perched
precariously on a pillow atop his dresser. Hermione followed his line of sight and breathed out a
laugh. She brushed past him and picked up the bejeweled cap, holding it delicately in her hands
with an eyebrow raised.

He shrugged. “I couldn't find the will to put it on.”

She sighed and covered the distance between them in a few strides. She spoke cautiously. “The
will or the heart?”

“Both.”

She smiled softly and reached up to place the crown atop his head. He craned his neck down when
she couldn't quite reach and let out a breath when he felt the cool metal collide against his
cranium. She adjusted it carefully and brushed his hair with her fingers as she pulled away.

“We have to face them eventually, mate.” Ron said, though his tone gave away too easily that he
was looking forward to greeting their new guests as much as Harry was.

“I suppose so.” He answered grudgingly.

“Oh would you two stop it?” Hermione said in exasperation, crossing her arms about her chest.
“I'm sure that the Fowl's are very nice women and you would do well to think so
yourselves.”

“That's easy for you to say, Miss I-Can't-Think-Ill-of-Anybody.” Ron said.

“I have my doubts as well.” Hermione defended. “But I choose not to dwell on them and let them
take over my opinions. We haven't even met them yet and you're acting as though they're
carrying the Black Plague.”

“They could be!” Ron said.

“Don't be ridiculous, Ron.”

“I'm not—”

“Hermione's right, Ron.” Harry interrupted, stopping what was sure to become another heated
yelling match between the two of them. “We need to man up and greet our guests with honor and not
let our preconceived opinions get in the way.”

“Oh sure, side with her.” Ron said sourly.

Hermione smirked and Harry winked at her. Ron rolled his eyes at the two of them and turned to
exit. Harry and Hermione followed close behind him and together they made their way downstairs to
the entrance hall where the entire castle was waiting to greet their new guests.

When they arrived, everyone was gathered in a half-circle near the door. Sirius was talking in
hushed tones with Remus near the middle. When he spotted them, Harry made a beeline for his two
guardians. Sirius saw him first and grinned. Remus turned and gave him a similar look and Harry
came to a halt as they both turned toward him.

“You look troubled, Harry.” Remus said.

“Not so much troubled as worried.” Harry replied honestly.

“There's nothing to be worried about.” Remus reassured him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“They're just here for the ball.”

“I know.” Harry said. “But I can't help but feel wary.”

“And you have every right feel so.” Sirius said. “But keep in mind that their presence here is a
peaceful one. There is nothing to be wary of.”

“Is that what the Council said?” Harry said darkly.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak but a voice echoing from the hall interrupted him. “They're
here!” it called.

The voice belonged to the lookout who had been scouting the window. Sirius turned to the two
guards at the door and nodded. They gave him a salute in response and turned to open the
double-wide door. Harry looked around for Ron and Hermione and saw them standing near Ron's
family. He ached to go over to them - to have Hermione reassure him one more time that it was going
to be alright and that his worries were all for nothing. But his place was by the king.

As though sensing his discomfort, Hermione turned to Harry and their eyes locked. She gave him
one of her famous smiles and he felt some of the pressure lift from his chest. Before he could
mouth any thanks, the sound of horses approaching drew their attentions away from each other and
toward the doors. A small party was gathered near the gates, all dressed in the blue and bronze
colors of Ravenclaw. Two men slid off of their horses and helped the two women at the front of the
party off of theirs, each carrying a large trunk. They were far away enough that Harry could not
make out their faces. After a few moments' pause, the two women and their guards continued en
route for them. The people in the hall collectively held their breathes as they waited for the two
women to come into view.

Though Hermione continually told Harry and Ron not to worry, she found herself overcome with the
same emotion the closer the two women came. For reasons she didn't dwell upon, she turned
toward Harry one last time before they entered. She heard the release of many held breaths release
simultaneously and saw Harry's face soften, making their entrance unmistakable. She forced
herself to look forward and felt a mix of emotions run through her at the sight of the
Fowl's.

Both women had hair as blonde and bright as the sun, accentuating their porcelain skin
angelically. One was slightly taller and worn-looking, making her look much older but still not
taking away from her beauty - Elizabeth. She had eyes the color of sapphires and cheeks as pink as
a baby rose. She held herself with a certain grace that made her seem confident and poised, two
traits that Hermione had only dreamt of possessing. She was dressed in a royal blue gown with
bronze trimming, showing the colors of her kingdom. The other woman, Clara, looked to be the same
age as she was. Her appearance was nearly identical to her mother's save for a slightly rounder
face and sea-green eyes. She was wearing a white dress laced with baby blue trimmings and a
matching cloak.

Both women were stunningly beautiful and there was no use denying it. Hermione felt herself
shifting uncomfortably, her eyes darting around the room. Each person in the hall was either gaping
or frowning, and sometimes both. She let her eyes venture to Ron next to her. He was one of the
ones gaping, his eyes three times their normal size. And though her logical mind screamed in
protest, she turned her attention to Harry next. He was neither gaping nor frowning but something
much worse. He was grinning.

Elizabeth and Clara made their way to the king and prince with delicate smiles gracing their
perfect faces. Greetings were exchanged but Hermione didn't pay any mind to the words. She was
more focused on the way Harry lifted each of the women's dainty hands and kissed them tenderly.
She knew that it was customary to greet women this way for many occasions but that didn't stop
the heaviness in her stomach from losing any weight.

“Thank you, my Lord, for letting us assist you.” Elizabeth said breathily.

“The pleasure is all ours, I assure you.” Sirius replied, kissing her hand as Harry had just
done before him.

“What are we to do with our horses?” She asked.

“I will have my stablemen take very good care of them, milady.” Sirius responded.

“And our rooms?”

“Ah, I think Harry can show you to them.” Sirius said with a smile, looking over to his
godson.

Harry nodded. “Of course. If you would care to follow me…”

Harry led the two women and the men carrying their luggage away from the entrance hall. Soft
chatter was heard behind them as they exited but Harry paid no mind. He was still reveling in the
fact that his worries had been for nothing, just like Hermione had said. The two women seemed to be
nothing but grateful for their hospitality and were set on helping them plan the ball to the best
of their abilities.

“You have a very nice castle, Prince Harry.” Clara remarked as they ascended the grand
staircase.

“Please call me Harry,” Harry said. “And thank you. It is remarkable, isn't it?”

“Quite.” Elizabeth agreed. “So much grandeur and history, quite like our own Ravenclaw castle.
Granted, I've never seen the entire grounds, but from what I have seen, they are quite similar
in design.”

“Not much has been changed since it was originally built.” Harry remarked. “Only a few more
portraits added and furniture refurbished.”

“Ah.” Elizabeth said, looking up as they passed a grand chandelier. “Still trying to keep the
original beauty?”

“Precisely.” Harry said.

“That's very noble.” Clara said, turning his attention to the younger Lady. “I heard that
over in Slytherin they are always remodeling things inside the castle and town. It seems a shame if
you ask me.”

“And why is that, milady?” Harry asked as they rounded a corner.

“Clara, please.” Clara said with a small smile. “I think that you should always keep the ways of
old as part of your life. Sure a remodeled castle may not sound bad, but if you change everything
that made your heritage great, then is it even heritage at all? Why fix what was never broken to
begin with?”

“That's a very intriguing argument.” Harry said. “I feel that there is always room for
change in moderation. Without change, Hermione would have never been named a Lady of Gryffindor
because of her blood. But without change, the rebels would have never gained power and started the
war. It is gamble that we all must face at one point in our lives.”

“Spoken like a true future king.” Elizabeth said.

Harry felt himself blush. He then realized where they were and stopped in front of a door. He
made a motion with his hand and stepped to the side. “Lady Elizabeth, this is where you will be
staying.”

With a flick of his wrist, the door opened and the two Ladies stepped inside with Harry
following them at a safe distance. The spare room had been decorated with Ravenclaw colors from the
linens to the sheets and stocked with a fresh basket of fruit on the table. The fire was already
lit and hooked up the Floo Network with a vase filled with floo powder resting on the mantle. One
of the men carrying luggage brushed past Harry and set down a box atop the bedspread.

“Thank you, Arthur.” Elizabeth said kindly.

The guard nodded and turned to leave. The other was still waiting patiently outside the door
with Clara's belongings. Harry turned to Elizabeth and spoke over the sound of her rummaging
through her things. “Is everything to your liking?”

She whirled around and gave him a dazzling smile. “Everything is wonderful, Harry, thank you.
Now all there's left to do is unpack.”

“I'll leave you to it.” Harry said with a nod. “Clara, your room is right down the
hall.”

Clara nodded and followed him out the door. He stopped halfway down the hall and waved the door
open like he did with her mother's and let her and the guard carrying her belongings through.
She thanked him and he left with a nod similar to his predecessor's. Harry stepped into the
room further and watched her take in her surroundings. The layout was nearly identical to her
mother's save for a view overlooking the gardens. She turned to him after a moment with eyes
shining.

“It's lovely, Harry.”

“Just like you.”

*Whoa, where did that come from?*

Her cheeks colored and he saw how true his blurted statement was. She *was* very
lovely-looking, her figure silhouetted perfectly by the sun shining through the window. He cleared
his throat and spoke huskily. “Well I'll just… I'll just leave you to unpack.”

She smiled suggestively. “You could help me if you wanted to.”

Oh, there was definitely a part of him that wanted to. “N-no, that's quite alright.”

She shrugged and turned to her trunk. She unlocked it delicately and pulled out her wand, waving
it about and muttering the proper charms to un-fold and -shrink her belongings. He caught sight of
a white lacy undergarment and turned away before he could see anything else. He felt his face heat
up as he made his way down the hallway and away from her room.

~*~

The crowd in the entrance hall had long since dispersed, but Hermione still remained. Ron had
returned home with his family to help them prepare for the feast that was to be held in welcoming
of the Fowls. Molly had always insisted on bringing a dish of her own making to events such as
these and more times than not required her entire family home with her to help. Being of noble
blood had never changed the Weasley family and that was one of the reasons Hermione loved them so
much. They had invited her into their home when her parents had passed and became like a second
family to her, with Sirius and Remus running a close third.

She was sitting atop one of the window's cushioned ledges, deep in thought. She couldn't
recall how long she'd been there but she knew it was for longer than needed. But something told
her to stay and so stay she did. She should be preparing for the feast but she saw no need. She
didn't need to dress up for a welcoming feast, and surely not one for some brownnosing
Ravenclaws.

Oh, what was she doing? Just yesterday she had been telling Harry to stop worrying about their
arrival and here she was acting just like he had been with hint of bitterness. Harry was only being
polite. She shouldn't be worrying - or even reacting, really. She had no claim over him, or
even Ron. They were free to do whatever they wished no matter what she thought. No matter what she
did. No matter how much her chest constricted.

“Hermione?”

*Speak of the devil and he shall appear*, she thought as she turned her head up to see
Harry looking down at her with concern. She gave him a small smile to cover up her thoughts but he
wasn't fooled. He never was.

“What's wrong?” He asked as he took a seat next to her.

“Nothing of importance,” she answered. Before he could refute her, she ventured on.
“Shouldn't you be preparing for the feast?”

“The feast starts in ten minutes, Hermione.” He answered, looking her over once. “Have you even
left here since I saw you last?”

She looked down shamefully.

“Hermione…”

“I just lost track of time, I guess.” She tried defending.

“This wouldn't have anything to do with the Fowls, would it?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “What does it matter? They're here to stay, aren't they?”

“Only for a couple of weeks.” Harry said, reaching out to put a comforting hand on her knee.
“And besides, weren't you the only welcoming their presence a few days ago?”

“Things change.”

“Wh—”

“Ah, Harry, Hermione!” A voice interrupted.

The two looked up to see Remus panting a few feet away. “I've been looking for the two of
you! The feast is almost ready and you both are supposed to be in the great hall in two
minutes.”

“Damn,” Harry cursed as he got up.

He extended a hand to Hermione and helped her up. Together, the two of them jogged the distance
to the great hall. When they arrived, the hall was completely filled with noble blood from all
corners of Gryffindor. All heads turned to them and their faces colored. Harry's eyes caught
Clara's and she smiled softly at him. Her face faulted in grace for a moment as her eyes
flickered to the space in-between Harry and Hermione. Harry followed her glance and saw that his
and Hermione's hands were still clutched in each other's. He didn't know why he cared
that Clara saw him and Hermione like this. They held hands all the time.

Nonetheless, Harry led the two of them to their seats and only dropped Hermione's hand when
he had to take his place next to the king. Sirius looked at him with amusement before motioning to
the servers. As soon as Remus arrived and took his seat on the other side of Sirius, he spoke.

“Welcome one and all to the feast in celebration of our new guests, Elizabeth and Clara Fowl. I
hope that you will look upon Gryffindor as a second home these next two weeks. To Elizabeth and
Clara!” He ended by raising his goblet.

“Elizabeth and Clara!” The room echoed.

“And now, without further ado, I invite you all to tuck in to the delicious feast.”

At the word feast, the table was filled with trays of food. Murmurs of surprise and excitement
bubbled up throughout the room as the people began to help themselves. Hermione delved into the
food, determined to forget about her rapidly changing thoughts. Harry looked over at her oddly but
she ignored him, becoming more interested in her steak. It was hard to avoid his gaze sitting right
next to him but she somehow managed.

“So Harry,” Clara spoke up from the opposite side of the table. “How long have you been courting
Hermione?”

A piece of steak got caught in Hermione's throat and Harry paled. She choked the meat down
and looked up to see the Ravenclaw Lady looking at them expectantly.

“Oh no we're not—”

“Harry and I aren't—”

They looked at each other, having spoken at the same time. Harry cleared his throat and turned
back to Clara. “We aren't courting.”

“Oh?” Clara said.

“We're friends.” Harry clarified. He looked back to Hermione, who was staring at her plate.
“Just good friends.”

“Forgive me.” Clara said, playing with a stray strand of her hair. “I was merely being
curious.”

“It's no trouble.” Harry said.

Hermione looked up from her plate to see the two of them smiling at each other. She pushed her
plate forward, her apatite lost. This caught the attention of Ron, who nudged her shoulder
lightly.

“Hey, are you alright?” he whispered.

She looked over to him with a sad smile. “I'm fine.”

He knew she was lying. It was hard to see otherwise. She turned back to her plate and began to
play with her food, giving the appearance that she was still interested in the feast. But Ron knew
better. When it came to Harry and Hermione, he had always knew better.

-->



4. Once Upon Another Time
-------------------------



**A/N: This was an interesting chapter to write. I knew where I wanted to go with it but then
it turned out to make absolutely no sense. The flashback was a must and I tried my best to make it
work. It's my first time writing flashbacks in this format and I'm not quite sure about it.
It's one of a few more that will be scattered throughout the story in order to answer a few
questions. Hopefully, you find this chapter enjoyable. As always, thank you all for being amazing
readers/reviewers** **and** **thanks to my beta, Vincent!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. Yeah, yeah, yeah, stop rubbing it in.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 4: Once Upon Another Time

“We're going to need plenty of floral arrangements.”

Harry looked over at Clara with a puzzled expression. “Why flowers?”

She gave him a dazzling smile. “It adds to the overall appeal of the room - makes it feel like a
friendlier environment.”

“What if people are allergic?” Hermione called from the other side of the table.

Harry and Clara looked over to her. She had a passive expression on her face and was looking at
Clara expectantly. The blonde cleared her throat and spoke. “There are opaque bubble charms we can
put over the arrangements to stop the pollen from spreading.”

Hermione nodded. In all truth, she only spoke because she didn't like when Harry and Clara
were looking at one another, which seemed to be all too often these days. She was looking for any
excuse to get their attentions off of one another. Hermione didn't trust the blonde Ravenclaw
and had written her off as trouble from the moment she walked into the castle.

Okay, maybe not the *moment* she walked in… more like a minute after when Harry went all
doe-eyed.

“Why the inquiry, Hermione?” Clara asked. “Do you have allergies to pollen?”

“No,” Hermione said briskly. But upon seeing Harry's questioning look, she continued on in a
little white lie. “But I am familiar with people who do.”

“Oh,” Clara said. “Well I assure you that we'll take the proper precautions for your
acquaintances.”

Hermione nodded curtly. “Thank you.”

Clara gave her a polite smile and continued reading off of a piece of parchment she had brought
into the meeting. Gathered around the table was the regular ball-planning committee, consisting of
various members of nobility, the royal cook, the local florist, and other various suppliers
throughout the kingdom. Ron had managed to skip today's meeting due to a family occurrence. Or
that was what his excuse was.

Harry was still looking at Hermione with a furrowed brow. She had been acting very odd lately,
particularly when Clara was around. He had questioned her about it multiple times but she just
waved him off with a laugh and changed the subject. But he knew her better than that. Hermione
wasn't too fond of their new guests and was terrible at hiding it. She always took a witty stab
at one of them, looking for a flaw in their perfect demeanors but, according to the sour looks she
got on her face, was unsuccessful.

Although he liked Clara, perhaps a little too much for his comfort, he knew that Hermione would
always be his top priority. She always had been since the day they had met. He smiled vaguely at
the memory. It seemed like only yesterday…

~*~

*9 years ago,* *mid-**autumn*

The streets were packed with people going about their daily business. They ranged from elderly
folk purchasing achy bone solutions, to spunky adolescents searching for the latest trends in the
robe and toy shops. Today was special, but what made it such was not that there were sale signs in
every window celebrating the new season, nor the All-Hallows Eve decorations gleaming in the dusk.
No, it was a little boy running amuck these people. He was dressed in common clothing so that
anyone who glanced his way wouldn't look twice. Why would they? Well, this was no ordinary boy
of eleven - this was Prince Harry, going on his semi-annual trip to town with his most trusted
friend, Ronald Weasley, and two guards disguised as the boy's guardians.

Prince Harry hated being cooped up inside Gryffindor castle, so his godfather, King Sirius,
allowed him to take a trip to town every few weeks to prevent the young prince from developing
cabin fever. He was always protected by the best of the royal guard and accompanied by a friend of
his choosing, which always ended up being Ron. The public was blissfully unaware that the future
king of Gryffindor was among them and it would remain that way until the foreboding darkness that
loomed over the kingdoms was lifted.

Although it was widespread that Voldemort was dead, killed by a rebounding curse aimed at Harry
no less, Sirius was not convinced that they had seen the last of the evil lord. He took every
precaution when it came to Harry's safety and that included innocent trips to town.

On this particular trip, Harry was more alert than he normally was. He knew that it was the
anniversary of his parent's murder and he remained cautious even though the danger to him was
slim to none. But despite his superstitions, he vowed to enjoy this trip since they were the ones
he looked forward to every time he was bored inside the castle.

“We should be heading back soon.” One of the guards, Erik, said.

“Five more minutes!” Harry said urgently.

Erik shared a look with his partner, Christine, and they relented to the young prince's
wish. Harry grinned and turned to Ron, who was enamored with an enchanted sign above the local
apothecary. His gaze remained fixed on the silhouette of a witch stirring the cauldron full of
bubbling potion as they continued forward. Harry was about to tell him to pay attention before he
tripped when he bumped into a small figure walking quickly to get by him. The impact was enough
that the two of them were knocked to the ground.

“Sorry.” The tender voice of a young girl spoke.

Harry looked over and saw that she was already on her knees, scrambling to gather the pile of
books she had dropped on the cobblestone street. Harry hurried to her side and helped her pick them
up.

“It's fine.” He said, handing her a worn-looking copy of *A History of Magic*. He had
never seen a book look so decrepit before. At the castle, their library was kept in pristine
condition and they had that particular volume in a state where the title still shined. He only knew
this because he had just recently began his tutelage in learning magic earlier that season.

They finished gathering her books and Harry looked once more at the girl who had practically run
him over. He was expecting someone older and meatier but the site that awaited him was the complete
opposite. She had hair the color of cinnamon that was wild atop her pale face. She was thin as a
rail but still had the rosy cheeks of youth. Her robes were somewhat dirty and hung off her frame
slightly. She looked to be around his age give or take. When her eyes met his he was greeted by two
chocolate orbs that tied her together for him.

“Thank you.” She said softly.

He nodded. “No problem…” He trailed off with a hint of question at the end.

“Hermione.” She finished. “Hermione Granger.”

“Hermione.” He said. “That's a lovely name.”

“Thank you.” She said, blushing slightly. “And what should I call you?”

“Oh, just Ha—”

“*What* do you think you're doing?”

They both turned to see the annoyed face of Ron looking at them. Harry fumbled to answer his
quarry. “Ron, this is Hermione. She rammed the two of us to the ground a moment ago.”

Her face colored once more. “I told you I was sorry.”

He smirked and turned back to her. “I'm only teasing.”

She returned his smile. Ron, however, was not amused by their story. He cleared his throat and
got Harry's attention back on him. “You do realize that you're associating with
vermin?”

“Excuse me?” The two of them said together.

“She's Muggleborn, can't you tell?” Ron said, gesturing to her dirty attire.

“So?” Harry asked.

“*So* you can't be seen associating with the likes of her.” He said matter-of-factly.
“What are you even doing here, anyway? Don't your kind live in the sewers or something?”

Her face began to turn red again, but this time out of anger. “My *kind* resides in the
lower towns where power hungry aristocrats like you force us to live because we pose an imaginary
threat to expose the world of magic.”

“So you admit there is a threat?” Ron said icily.

She rolled her eyes. “Only in your head.”

Ron sneered. “You'd better watch your tongue. I could have you and your family locked
up.”

She gave him an annoyed look. “You don't scare me, red.”

“I don't think you know who you're talking to.”

“I don't give a rat's arse who I'm talking to. Discrimination is wrong and anyone
with a brain knows it so your lack thereof makes you ignorant and therefore purges your right to
speak to me in such a manor.”

Ron's mouth was slightly agape. Harry looked at Hermione with a similar expression. She may
look like a Muggleborn but she spoke like a noblewoman. Any preconception he may have had when Ron
pointed out her blood status was wiped away. If the stereotype that all Muggleborns were
ill-educated was wrong, what else didn't they know about them? It seemed to be quite a lot, as
Hermione was quickly demonstrating.

Harry shook himself from his thoughts. “Leave her alone, Ron.”

Ron turned to Harry. “Don't tell me you're sympathizing with this rat?”

“She's not a rat, Ron.” Harry said, growing irritated with his friend.

“Really? Let's test that, shall we?” He looked at Hermione and made a waving motion with his
hand. “Shoo! Go on, back to the sewers!”

She huffed and turned around on her heel. Harry stepped forward to stop her but Ron put a hand
on his shoulder. He turned to him with a furrowed brow and shrugged his hand off.

“What's your problem?” Ron asked.

“My problem is that you treated Hermione like trash!”

“She *is* trash, Harry.”

“What, just because she's Muggleborn?”

“Yes!”

Harry scoffed.

“It's always been that way, Harry, since before we were born. Muggles are bad news and
letting them into our kingdoms poses a threat to the magical community at large.”

“Would your father agree with you?” Harry spat. Ron avoided his gaze. Arthur Weasley was a
well-known supporter of Muggles and Muggleborns, heading a guild that aimed to protect their
rights. “I swear, you're beginning to sound more like the scum in Slytherin.”

Ron looked up sharply. “You're lying!”

Harry gave him a pointed look. “I never lie.”

Ron pursed his lips. There was silence between the two of them for a moment before he chose to
speak up. “Well it's too late now.”

“It's never too late.”

Harry stood on his toes and saw a bush of cinnamon hair. He grinned and grabbed Ron's arm,
dragging him as he began to weave through the thickening crowd of people. The two guards were too
busy admiring an arrangement of glittering sneakoscopes to pay any mind to their departure. Being
trained professionals, they knew no to take their eyes off of the prince for more than five
seconds. But five seconds was all it took for Harry and Ron to slip away into the crowd and
disappear from sight. By the time they turned back around to check on them, they were gone.

Trailing behind Hermione was no easy task. The streets were now packed to the fullest capacity
of people for the All-Hallows Eve celebrations. It was so crammed that it was difficult for two
eleven-year-old boys to weave through, which was saying quite a lot. But luckily for them, Hermione
turned off into a deserted alley up ahead of them. They squeezed through one last pair of civilians
before stumbling into the dark crevice.

Harry let go of Ron's arm and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hermione!”

She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly. Her face brightened when she saw Harry but when her
eyes shifted to the redhead beside him, her smile quickly turned into a sneer. Harry ran toward her
before she could make a move to leave. He skidded to a stop a foot away from her.

She allowed herself to smile once more. “Thank you for sparing me another spill to the
ground.”

He chuckled. “My pleasure.”

She glanced behind him to where Ron was beginning to walk toward them. “If he takes another step
closer I'm going to hex him into the next century.”

“He's here to apologize.” Harry said quickly before she could make a motion to grab her
wand.

She looked at him in disbelief. “Really?”

He nodded.

“Did he get a personality shift or is it your everyday run-of-the-mill miracle?” She asked
hotly.

“Neither. I compared him with a Slytherin and he wasn't too happy. He wants to make amends
before his soul is damned.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stereotypes aren't always true, you know.”

“I know.” He lowered his tone. “But Ron doesn't.”

She smirked just as Ron arrived at Harry's side. Harry looked over at him and made a gesture
to Hermione. “Do you have something that you want to say to Hermione?”

“Not really.” He grumbled.

“Ron…” Harry said in a warning tone.

Ron frowned and looked over at Hermione. He sighed. “I'm sorry for calling you trash.”

“And?” Harry prompted.

“And a rat.”

“*And*?”

Ron glared at Harry but he remained silent with a gloating smile.

“And vermin.” He said quickly. “Can we go now?”

Harry and Hermione laughed but before he could answer, a shadow fell over the three of them.
Hermione looked behind the two boys to see what was causing the sudden darkness and stiffened.
Harry, seeing Hermione's change in demeanor, turned around and felt his blood run cold. Ron was
the last to face the blockage and paled when he saw the large figure.

“Didn't your mothers tell you it was dangerous to go wandering in dark allies?”

Ron gulped and took a step back, bumping into Hermione. She shoved him off and discreetly set
her books on the ground, using him as a shield. When she stood back up, the figure was already
moving towards them. Ron pulled out his wand.

“*Stu*—”

“*Expelliarmus!*” The man interrupted Ron's casting and his wand flew out of his
hands.

Silence followed.

“Run.” Hermione whispered to the boys.

The three of them didn't waste a moment and began to sprint away from the looming figure.
Adrenaline pumped through their veins when they heard him pick up his pace to catch them. It was
clear that their youth put them at an advantage as the figure began to fall behind. He cursed and
pulled out his wand to cast a wordless spell at them. Harry turned just in time to see him aim and
shouted “Duck!”

They ducked but the spell was already a good foot above their heads. It wasn't until the
spell hit a tall barrel atop a pile of boxes that the three realized the spell wasn't mean for
them. The barrel began to grow in size until it filled the width of the alley, preventing the three
from getting any further. They came to an abrupt stop and turned. The figure had stopped running
and was now walking at a brisk pace towards the three of them.

~*~

Hermione noticed that Harry seemed out of sorts. He hadn't been paying attention to the
meeting for the past ten minutes. Clara hadn't taken notice, as she was busy listing off more
womanly additions to the ball that her and her mother had come up with. Hermione had questioned
every single one of them. She wondered why Harry hadn't berated her yet like he usually did
when she teased Clara. Her answer awaited her in a neat little package across from her.

His gaze was focused on the oak table where he was tracing invisible patterns into the polished
wood. He was completely lost in his thoughts. She had seen him like this once before, just after
the war had ended. She had asked him what he was thinking about and he simply replied, “The
past.”

He then explained to her that he enjoyed dwelling in old memories - at least the ones he had
left. He dumped all of the less appealing ones in a pensieve that he had received from Dumbledore a
few years ago. She knew he still had a few questionable memories left in that head of his, but he
had yet to have a need to rid himself of them. But she could tell that right now he was thinking of
a happier time. His eyes may have said passive but the ever so slight curl of his lip said
blissful. To her, she could think of no happier time than the first day that she, Ron, and Harry
had met. They were all so innocent then and nothing was complicated.

My how the times have changed.

“Hermione what do you think?” Clara asked, shaking her from her reverie.

“Hm?” Hermione said. All eyes were on her and she felt her cheeks redden. “Sorry, I was lost in
my thoughts for a moment. What did you say, Clara?”

“I asked what color scheme we should go with. I mean, I really like how you've been
incorporating all four kingdom's colors but they clash horribly when overused on every single
napkin and place setting. I feel we should use more neutral colors like gold and crème.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Does a color scheme really mean that much?”

Clara giggled. “Of course it does, silly! It's the pattern that repeats all throughout the
hall. One wrong combination could be the deciding factor between a successful ball and one that
everyone will be laughing about the next morning.”

“*Colors* can do that?” She asked in astonishment.

Clara nodded with serious eyes. “And so much more.”

“Hm.” Hermione mumbled halfheartedly. “Interesting.”

“Quite.” Clara agreed. “So what do you think?”

She paused for a moment before speaking. “Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“Crème and gold sounds fine.”

Clara let out a squeal that could rival a dolphin's mating call and Hermione had to resist
the urge to plug her ears. She settled for biting her lip instead to hold her tongue. She knew that
this meeting would only last into the early afternoon so she had to do her best to maintain her
composure until then, even though she knew this was a great waste of her time and knowledge. She
would have much preferred reading a good book or sitting in on a council meeting. But since she
could do neither, one because she wasn't allowed and the other because of the lack of reading
material, she would have to settle for numbing her brain down and listening to the porcelain doll
speak.

She sorely missed the good old days when she could call upon her brain at a whim - when
situations still called for her quick-thinking. Now she was about as useless as a dirty rag.
Sighing, she placed her head atop her hand and feigned interest in the discussion of velvet versus
taffeta.

~*~

Hermione's brain began to work to find a solution. She hadn't learned any spells that
could destroy the barrel yet in the books she was reading. Today's trip to the bookshop was to
learn spells like that. She mentally berated herself for thinking that a trip later in the day
would be more beneficial. Meanwhile, the figure was getting closer and he was only becoming larger.
As he approached, the three of them got a better look at the man who had them trapped. He was
dressed in all black and had a hood that covered his face from view. His large boots made thumping
noises against the ground and his heavy breathing only added to the terror they were beginning to
feel.

“Don't look so scared, kiddies.” He said teasingly. “This will only hurt for a moment.”

He raised his wand and panic settled into the trio's stomachs. *Why couldn't I have
begun reading those books in the shop?* Hermione thought to herself. *A fat load of good
they're doing me now.*

Then an idea hit her just as the figure came to a halt. She grabbed her wand from her back
pocket and shouted “*Wingardium Leviosa!*”

The books that she had placed so precariously on the ground flew up in the air. She made a quick
motion with her wand that caused the books to come soaring towards them. All at once the books
collided with the man and knocked him to the ground.

Harry took this opportunity to pull out his wand and aim it at the fallen man's head.
“*Stupefy!*”

His body went limp. The three stood in silence for a moment, soaking it all in. Just a minute
ago, this guy had them cornered with no escape and now he was unconscious on the floor. Ron was the
first to make a move, taking a few steps forward and prodding the body with the toe of his boot.
When it was clear that the man was knocked out Ron pulled back his leg and kicked him hard in the
stomach.

“Take that you overgrown lard!” He shouted.

He kicked him a few more times for effect, shouting similar insults. When he stopped, he
realized that the man's hood had fallen off. He craned his head and recoiled. The figure that
had been chasing them had oily sin and overgrown ears and nose. His eyes were too small for his
head and there were random specks of pimples and blemishes all around his face. In fact, Ron
thought he looked quite like a troll. He took a few steps back and turned to Harry and Hermione,
who were still in a shocked silence.

“That was too close.” Ron said.

“And we owe it all to Hermione.” Harry said, looking at Hermione with admiration shining on his
face.

Hermione blushed and avoided his gaze. “It was quick thinking, really. Anyone could have done
it.”

“Yeah but you were the first.” Harry pointed out. “Without your quick thinking, we'd
probably be dead.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed. Harry and Hermione looked at Ron strangely. “You were brilliant, Hermione.
Really. And um… I underestimated you. You're a lot more than meets the eye.”

“Thank you, Ron.” Hermione said sincerely. “Maybe one day you'll say the same thing for all
Muggleborns in Hogwarts.”

Ron smiled slyly. “Maybe.”

Hermione turned back to Harry. “And you. I never got your name.”

“Oh, right.” Harry said. “It's Harry.”

“Harry?” Hermione said. “As in—”

“Harry! Ron! Oh, thank Merlin. *Sirius*! I found them!”

“Sirius?” Hermione asked in a high-pitched voice.

After a moment, Remus and Sirius jogged down the alley to the trio, a handful of guards right
behind them. They were disguised in baggy robes with hoods atop their heads big enough to hide
their faces. They stopped right next to the unconscious man and looked between him and the three in
horror.

“Did you…?” Remus asked shakily, pointing to the man.

“Hermione did.” Harry said proudly, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Remus looked at Hermione in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, sir.” Hermione said. “But it was Harry who knocked him out. I just threw my books at
him.”

Remus looked down and saw the books to which she was referring. He bent over and picked a few of
them up, looking them over curiously. “Indeed.”

“Harry, what were you thinking?” Sirius asked, seeming to ignore the exchange. “Running off like
that on All-Hallows Eve! You could have been killed!”

“I'm sorry I—”

“No, sorry is not going to cut it this time. You are grounded from these trips for a month, do
you understand me?”

Harry bent his head down in shame. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He said firmly. His face quickly softened as he took quick steps over to his godson and
pulled him into a hug, thankful to have him in one piece. He pulled back and gave him a smile
before looking over at Ron. “I'll be informing your parents as well, Ron.”

Ron nodded solemnly.

“Now, I propose we—”

“Hold on, your highness.” One of the guards spoke up. He was bent over the comatose form on the
ground near his arm. He had rolled up his sleeve and was very pale. “I think you need to take a
look at this.”

Sirius sobered and went over to the guard. He tilted the man's arm and revealed something
that made his eyes go wide. “My God,” he whispered breathily. He turned his face upwards and looked
to Remus, who was still enamored with Hermione's books. “Remus.”

Remus looked over to Sirius and his expression changed to one of fear when he saw the man's
sleeve bunched up. “Sirius… is he…?”

Sirius nodded. “It is as we feared, Remus.”

“What is as you've feared?” Harry asked. “What's on that man's arm?”

Sirius looked to his godson with sad eyes. “Harry, you remember me telling you about who killed
your parents all those years ago?”

“Of course.”

He turned the man's forearm to Harry. A tattoo of some sort was inked on his pale skin in
the shape of a skull with a snake coiled around it. It seemed to be moving enough to be noticeable,
giving it a very dark aura. Harry felt the scar atop his forehead tingle at the sight and his hand
moved up to it reflexively. Sirius nodded to himself and continued.

“This is the mark of Voldemort's followers. They call themselves Death Eaters. They are his
servants and have been practically inactive since he was reported dead the night your parents
died.”

“But he's here.” Harry said softly. “What does that mean?”

“It means that Voldemort is still very much a threat, something that I've suspected for
years.” Sirius said solemnly. He got up and brushed off his trousers before speaking again. “Harry,
we've got to get back to the castle. I'll explain more when we're there.”

Harry nodded. “Okay.”

Remus retrieved the rest of Hermione's books from the ground and handed them to her. “It was
very nice to meet you, Hermione.”

“You as well.” She said wispily.

“Come along, Harry,” Sirius called as the guards levitated the Death Eater's body and began
to carry it along the alley.

Harry looked at Hermione and she smiled at him. “Go on, your highness. I'll be fine.”

He nodded and followed Ron to catch up with his godfather. Had she really met the prince? Had
she just been in the same vicinity as the king? Oh, this was all too surreal to believe. What
started as a normal trip to the bookstore had turned into so much more. This was a day she would
never forget, not matter how brief the experience had been.

She found herself grinning as she clutched her books tight to her chest. After a moment, she
turned to face the giant barrel and her smile faltered. She would have to take the long way
home.

“Hermione!”

She jumped at the sound of her name and turned to see Harry running towards her. He stopped a
foot away and asked breathily, “We can escort you home, if you like.”

“Oh, you don't have to bother with—”

“My godfather insists.” He said earnestly, looking to where Sirius was smiling over at them.

Hermione couldn't believe that the king himself wanted to escort her home. It was a once in
a lifetime opportunity and she knew that if she didn't take advantage of it now, she would
regret it in the morning. Plus it would add even more to the most exciting day of her life. She
nodded to herself and walked with Harry back up to where the rest of the party was waiting.

~*~

Harry looked up and the first thing he saw was Hermione with a dazed look in her eyes. He
chuckled inwardly to himself. He had been wondering how long it would take her to nod off. No
matter how much he loved Hermione, he knew that she wouldn't last in a meeting like this. Duels
and debates were no problem. Idle talk about décor not so much.

She sensed his gaze and her eyes became clear. He winked at her, telling her silently that he
knew that she had lost her focus. If there was one thing that irritated Hermione more than being
forced to attend a meeting she didn't want to be a part of it was being caught looking like she
didn't want to be a part of it. She stuck her tongue out playfully and he grinned.

A throat being cleared took his attention away from Hermione. Clara was looking at him with a
raised eyebrow. His grin faltered.

“Have you been paying attention at all during this meeting, Harry?”

He was at a loss for words. He didn't want to sound like an irresponsible dolt in front of
Clara and the rest of the committee but he didn't want to lie either. He opened his mouth to
sputter an answer when an angelic voice spoke up to save him.

“Oh leave him alone, Clara.” Hermione said with a teasing smile. “He was up all last night
training that he didn't get to bed until sunrise.”

She wasn't lying so much as telling a small fib. He *had* been up late training but put
himself to bed at a reasonable time afterwards. Well, Hermione had made him go to bed at a
reasonable time afterwards. There had been a few occasions in the past where he had pulled
all-nighters training in the arena and been like the walking dead the next morning. Some nights
Hermione caught him to prevent having to take care of him in the morning and forced him back into
the confines of the castle, last night being one of them. But Clara didn't need to know
that.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Clara cooed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry owed her one.

He was fully aware of his newfound debt and made it perfectly clear to her as he mouthed a
“Thank you” in her direction after Clara went back to the meeting. She sighed and nodded. Why did
she do these things for him? Was it because she was weak or couldn't bear to see him at a loss?
Probably both. It had always been that way. He saved her in the heroic sense and she saved him
whenever he was in a small blunder with coursework or tongue-tangled with a girl.

What exactly had he done to her to make her do these things?

But of course that answer was obvious. And she wouldn't trade it for the world.

~*~

It was a long trip down to the lower towns but it was filled with Harry retelling the story
about how Hermione had heroically summoned her books and clonked them over the Death Eater's
head with no fear of the consequences. He made her sound like a heroine out of a book but she
wasn't complaining. She remained mostly quiet as he sung her praises to his godfather, only
interjecting when the tale became too unbelievable.

When they arrived at Hermione's home, she saw that the lights were on. He parents were still
up and probably worried sick about her. She had said she would be back before sunset and it was
already dark. The footfalls of her and the party escorting her drew them out and she held her
breath. The relief on their faces allowed her to calm down - relief was better than anger.

“Hermione, oh thank heavens!” Her mother, Jane, said. She held out her arms and Hermione flew
into them.

“We've been so worried, darling.” Her father, Edward, said, putting a hand around her
mother's shoulders as she pulled away.

“Sorry. I was held up.”

“By what?” Jane asked.

Hermione looked back at the group behind her and Jane and Edward's eyes widened. They both
bowed low in the presence of their king.

“Please, please, rise.” Sirius said, taking a step forward. “It is your daughter who you should
be praising.”

“Hermione?” Jane asked.

Sirius nodded. “She saved my godson and his friend's life today.”

“She did *what*?” Edward asked, astonished with what words were coming out of the
king's mouth.

Sirius chuckled. “She was very brave, besting the likes of a Death Eater like she did.”

“A Death Eater?” Edward asked, confused.

“Oh, right, you're Muggles.” Sirius said to himself. He quickly explained the significance
of the Death Eater to the Grangers.

“Goodness.” Jane said with a hand over her heart. She looked at Hermione. “You saved the
prince?”

“Erm, yes… yes, I suppose I did.”

“And we are forever in your debt, Hermione.” Sirius said. “If there is anything we can do for
you or your family, please let me know.”

“No it's really—” Hermione stopped herself. She looked down at the books in her arms and bit
her lip. She glanced back up to where the king was looking at her with a questioning look in his
eyes. “Well there is one thing.”

“Anything, my dear, anything.” Sirius said.

“I've just begun my magical education, you see.” She started shakily, but quickly gaining
more confidence as she went on. “And the tutors in the lower towns aren't teaching me much.
I've taken to teaching myself through reading.” She lifted the books slightly to emphasize her
point. “Is there any way that you could assign new tutors to the lower towns?”

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. “I'll see what I can do.”

Hermione nodded and turned back to her parents.

“But,” he continued, gaining her attention back. “I'll tell you what I can do for the girl
who saved my godson's life. Though I will still take your proposition for the lower towns very
seriously, how would you like to be privately tutored in the castle?”

“Privately tutored?” Hermione repeated in disbelief.

Sirius grinned. “Yes, privately tutored. I could set up your home with a floo connection to the
castle to save you from walking such a distance every day and you would be taught by the very
best.” He made a motion and Remus came to stand beside him. “Remus here is the best tutor in
Gryffindor, and you would get a full education up until your seventh year of schooling.”

“Really?” Hermione asked excitedly.

Remus bowed. “It would be my honor.”

Hermione turned to her parents with her eyes shining. “Can I?”

Jane grinned. “I think it would be a shame to waste such an opportunity.”

Hermione let out an excited noise and hugged both of her parents in turn. She turned back to
Remus and Sirius with a grin. “Thank you!”

“It's my pleasure.” Sirius answered. “Now, if you will excuse us. We must get back to the
castle.”

Hermione nodded.

“Until tomorrow, Hermione.” Remus said with a smile.

The group began to disperse until only Harry and Ron were standing outside her home. Harry spoke
first. “Thank you, Hermione.”

“You know as well as I that thanks aren't necessary.” Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. “It's still polite.”

“Harry!” Sirius called.

Harry looked back at his godfather. “One second!”

Hermione looked at the boys oddly. “Do you want a proper goodbye, then?”

“Goodbye?” Ron asked. “This isn't goodbye.”

Hermione looked confused. Harry took pity on her as a grin worked its way on his face.
“We're tutored by Remus as well. We just want to say that we'll see you tomorrow.”

Excitement bubbled in Hermione's stomach. “Really?”

“Really, really.” Harry said. “So see you tomorrow?”

“Definitely!” Hermione said.

Ron and Harry grinned at each other and waved goodbye before they caught up with the group.
Hermione watched them depart. Her parents each put a hand on her shoulder as she continued to look
after they were out of sight. She had an odd feeling in her gut that had nothing to do with the
excitement but was something else entirely. It was a feeling that told her something - something
that she knew to be true.

This was only the beginning.

-->



5. Raindrops on Roses
---------------------



**A/N: Sorry for the late update guys! I've been horribly busy these last few weeks and
plus my beta still hasn't officially gotten back to me with the finished version of this
chapter which I intended to release** **last week****. But I held off from posting it
regardless because I had absolutely no time to write this past weekend. I hope you'll forgive
me for my not-so-spot on updates with this story. But something is better than nothing, eh? No?
Alrighty then.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all associated things/characters aren't mine, sadly. The
only thing that remains in my possession is the writing.**

**Enjoy!**

-

Magique
Chapter 5: Raindrops on Roses

It was a bright afternoon - the sun shining, the grass an almost unbelievable shade of green,
and a perfect breath of wind was in the air. These were the days Harry longed for. They gave him an
excuse to go outside and take a walk around the grounds of the castle without being stared at by
the servants or his godfather. No, on days like this everyone was outdoors, even the normally
secluded kitchen staff who was out in the nearby woods picking herbs. There was even a small match
of Quidditch being played on the training ground. Normally Harry would have joined in or refereed
at least, but something was telling him not to. It wasn't that he wasn't in the mood - he
was always in the mood for Quidditch - but that he wasn't in the right state of mind.

Lately all Harry had been thinking about were two things: the ball and, for lack of a better
word, his heart. Now, letting his thoughts dwell on the upcoming ball was one thing, but he had
never allowed his mind to reside on matters of his heart often, if at all. It always got him into
trouble ever since he could remember. But as soon as the Fowl's had arrived, he had been in
inner turmoil. Clara was lovely, there was no denying it, but she was lacking something. Or rather,
she wasn't -

He was stopped in both his tracks and his thoughts by a sight that made him smile and forget all
about his inner pains. Hermione was in the gardens picking flowers from a bush and putting them in
a basket that was hanging from her elbow. He knew how much she loved being surrounded by all of the
smells of the flowers. She once told him that they reminded her of her mother and the garden she
used to keep out in front of her old home in the lower towns. They were the only family within
blocks that kept flowers and vegetables out for others to see, mostly because it was a work of art.
Jane Granger took particular pride in her arrangements, giving Harry a fruit basket every year for
his birthday until he turned sixteen.

The sight of her picking an arrangement of flowers filled him with a strange sense of nostalgia.
She didn't usually pick flowers, only admired them. There was only one day a year when she even
thought about stealing a few of the buds from the bushes.

“Harry?” A soft, sweet voice spoke from beside him.

Harry turned and was none too surprised to see Clara standing next to him. She was dressed in a
pale pink gown with short sleeves in favor of the warm weather. Her hair was pulled up to frame her
face and highly accentuated her delicate features. She looked nothing short of lovely.

“Hello Clara.” He greeted with a smile. “Are you enjoying the weather?”

“Oh yes.” She said with an enthusiastic nod. “It's the perfect weather for a nice
stroll.”

“I couldn't agree more.”

She smiled. “I thought I would see you over by the arena with all of the other knights.”

He chuckled. “Not today, no.”

“Why ever not? It's the perfect weather for a Quidditch match.”

Harry shrugged. “I don't know really. I'm just not up for it today.”

“That's too bad.” She said. “But not all is lost. I could keep you company if you would have
me.”

“That's very sweet of you, Clara, thank you.” Harry said. He extended his elbow out to her
and she took it with a grin. Together, the two of them began walking in the opposite direction, not
aware of the sad eyes that watched them depart from the gardens.

The pair passed a crowd of finely dressed woman who instantly began whispering as they
approached. Harry inwardly scoffed at the gossiping bunch and continued past them without a second
glance. Clara, however, was not so easily abided.

“They think we're courting, you know.”

Harry turned his face sharply to her. “What?”

She nodded. “The whole castle is abuzz. Apparently we're this season's hottest
gossip.”

“That's ridiculous.” Harry said in annoyance. “We're just friends.”

“Yes,” Clara said dejectedly. “Just friends.”

Before Harry could think on her change of demeanor she quickly changed gears. “I certainly hope
I'm not getting you into any trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well if people think that we are courting when we aren't, that could stir up some
controversy throughout the kingdom. A man and a woman seeing each other so often without a ring
attached could jeopardize your reputation as the future king.”

“Hermione and I are around each other quite often and my reputation has never been questioned
when it comes to her. Even you thought we were courting when you first came here.”

“Indeed I did.” She said with a slight tinge to her cheeks. “But that's all cleared up now.
Besides, the entire kingdom is aware of your close friendship. With me, however, it's
different. I'm a new resident here and am already a permanent fixture in the gossip
circles.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” Harry said reassuringly, patting her hand softly. “If there
was anything even remotely close to that transpiring, my godfather would let me know. As of now, we
are completely safe.”

She smiled. “Good. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble because of little old me - let
alone be cornered into a position that would make you uncomfortable.”

He wasn't quite sure what she meant with her last statement but waved it off as nothing. All
of her worries weren't justified anyway. If their relationship was in any way affecting his
position as the future king he would be informed immediately. To the extent of his knowledge, he
was completely in the clear from any prying eyes that may view his new friendship with Clara as
inappropriate.

Hopefully.

~*~

After seeing Harry and Clara walk arm-in-arm away from her, Hermione was left in an even worse
mood than when she began the day. She had thought an earlier trip to the gardens would lift her
spirits but had been wrong. So very wrong. She already knew today was going to be bad, but now with
Harry and Clara strutting about so close to each other, it was only making her stomach less able to
keep down her breakfast.

She looked down at her basket and nodded to herself. She had picked enough flowers anyway. There
was no more reason to stay here. So with her head held high, she exited the gardens and made her
way to the stables. Chester, the royal carriage driver, was sitting at his normal post behind his
desk. He heard her approaching and greeted her with a sad smile.

“‛Ello, love.”

“Hello, Chester.” She greeted with her best attempt at a smile. “Is Rosie awake yet?”

He nodded and gestured down the barn. “Awake and ready for yah.”

She reached into her pocket and held out a silver sickle to him. He shook his head and gently
pushed her outstretched arm away. “Not today, love. You know that well enough.”

She shrugged tiredly. “It doesn't hurt to try.”

He chuckled. “Go on, then.”

She thanked him and walked over to let Rosie out of her station. She was a gorgeous gray
stallion with the strongest legs and softest eyes of the entire lot. That's why Hermione always
chose her for her yearly ride. She could have gone with one of Harry or Ron's prime steeds but
something about Rosie struck her. Ever since she first came here three years ago, she and Rosie had
a special understanding. Hermione was never one for riding, but with Rosie she always made an
exception.

She slowly and cautiously saddled the mare up. After she was finished, she grabbed the flowers
she had picked out of the basket and untied the silk ribbon from the handle. She arranged the
flowers carefully and tied the ribbon around the stems in a simple bow. Then, after making sure the
knot was secure, she placed the flowers into the attachable pouch on Rosie's saddle and buckled
it shut. After all of the prerequisites of her trip were finished, she finally mounted and clicked
her tongue.

As soon as Hermione left the stables, she felt the wind brush past her in a rush. Rosie was only
at a trot and yet the steed was going faster than she could run. The trip in itself would only take
a few minutes and could be lengthened to her heart's desire with a pull of the reigns. But
Hermione didn't want to wait any more. This had to be done just like it had to be done for the
past three years.

The steel gates of the cemetery always looked less menacing in the light. But that still
didn't stop the rush of emotion Hermione was hit with the moment they came into sight. She
eased Rosie to a stop and dismounted swiftly. Unclasping the pouch, she pulled out the rope and her
bouquet of flowers. She set the flowers down on a nearby rock and went to tying Rosie to one of the
horse rings off to the side of the gates. With a final tug, she secured the rope and petted
Rosie's snout sweetly.

“I'll be back.” She whispered.

She then grabbed the bouquet of flowers and pulled out her wand to unlock the gate. It opened
with a dull creak and she let herself in. With each step into the gated cemetery she felt her heart
grow heavier until she finally reached a large statue of an angel. Hermione fell to her knees in
front of the statue so that she was eye-level with the engraving at the bottom.

*Edward and Jane Granger
Beloved parents and aids in the war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named*

A single tear inched down Hermione's cheek as she hugged the bouquet close to her chest.
Soon, a waterfall of salty drops were cascading down her face. Even after all these years she still
hadn't been able to refrain from crying. It was a healthy thing, she knew, but it still made
her feel weak. She missed her parents every day and yet only when she came here did she shed a
single tear.

When she gained enough composure, she released the bouquet and pulled the single lily from its
otherwise completely red rose arrangement and set it on the ground beside her. Then, after placing
a tender kiss upon the remaining petals, she set down the flowers at the foot of the grave.

A shadow fell over her and she looked up. A gathering of gray rainclouds were now polluting the
once bright blue sky. She supposed it was appropriate. It had rained this same day four years ago
as well - the night her parents were murdered.

She wiped her wet cheeks just before the first raindrops fell. Within seconds a light drizzle
began to come down from the sky and Hermione knew she had to get back before she risked getting
sick.

“I love you.” She whispered weakly.

With a final caress of the stone, feeling her parent's names etched into the statue, she
pulled back and stood, making sure to grab the single lily from the ground. She walked purposefully
to the very back of the cemetery where a large tomb towered over her. She walked up the stone steps
to the base of the tomb, held up by two carvings of large lions facing each other. Carved above the
entrance was the surname of the royal family: *Potter*.

When she first came here to Gryffindor Cemetery, she had wondered who else had been buried here.
She wandered around the large gated plot until she came upon the royal tomb appropriately placed in
the back with the most intricate of all of the graves. Most of the nobility had family tombs but
none as beautiful as the Potter's. It was raised a good foot off of the ground and had its own
garden planted around it. Random statues of angels and lions were scattered throughout the
intricate setting and along the front wall of the tomb itself was each of the royal's names
carved into their own stone with their dates of birth and death underneath. Hermione found James
and Lily's names instantly because they were at the forefront. Ever since then she had taken a
single flower from her parent's bouquet and placed it in the tiny space between their stone and
the blank one underneath.

Hermione twisted the lily between her fingers delicately before sliding it into its rightful
place next to Harry's parents. She smiled softly and turned to leave.

When she arrived back to Rosie's side, the steed looked slightly put out by the rapidly
increasing amount of rain being spilled onto her mane. Hermione quickly untied her from the ring
and mounted her, easing her backward from the gates and then turning back toward the castle. Rosie
was faster to return because of the weather and Hermione was fearful that she might lose her
footing on the slick grass. But she had faith in Rosie that she would return the both of them home
safely.

When the stables were in sight, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She eased Rosie to slow down
to a trot and brought them into the barn slowly. Hermione slid off of the saddle when they were
under roofing and set to tending to Rosie.

“Why don't you let me worry about that, love?” Chester asked with a smile. “You need to get
into the castle and warm up.”

“I'll be fine, Chester.” Hermione said.

He gave her a knowing look before striding up to her and taking off Rosie's saddle himself.
“I don't want to hear any of it. Go sit by a fire for a while and get dry before you catch a
cold.”

Hermione pursed her lips sourly but knew better than to retort. Chester was one of the oldest
and wisest working hands in the castle and he always knew best. She would be a fool to argue with
him. If he said she would catch a cold if she stayed out here any longer, she would wake up
tomorrow morning with a stuffy nose and the chills. So without any more argument she turned on her
heel and made her way back up to the castle, ignoring Chester's childish giggling as she
departed.

The grounds were completely deserted, not that she expected anything less. Everyone was probably
indoors all nice and cozy in their beds and as far away from the downpour as they could get. She
could picture Harry and Ron in Harry's quarters playing wizard's chess by the candlelight
while the dull hum of thunder sounded around them. It was a comforting picture to think of but she
knew it wasn't awaiting her inside. No, Harry was probably too busy wooing Clara to pay mind to
anything else.

When she reached the side entrance to the castle, she was completely drenched. She pulled out
her wand and performed a simple drying charm on her clothes. She knew that sitting by a fire would
be more effective on her drenched psyche but the charm would have to suffice for now. She made her
way down the corridor with intent on curling up in her room when she heard two raised voices echo
from the next room. She recognized Harry's angry tone instantly and quickly jogged a nearby
crevice to listen.

“What exactly are you suggesting, Remus?” Harry asked with a scary hiss to his tone.

“I'm suggesting that you either get your shit together or do the right thing.”

“And both of them entail something that I'm not comfortable thinking about, let alone
doing.”

“Courting a girl is nothing to be ashamed about, Harry. It's a right of passage in a
man's life. Something you should be quite familiar with by now.”

“Of course I am but I just… Remus, I can't court Clara. I just can't.”

Hermione stomach dropped. *Remus was talking about Harry courting Clara?* She thought in a
panic, *Oh Gods.*

“Can't or won't?”

“I don't know, okay!” Harry shouted irritably. “Why do I even have to be considering this?
Our friendship hasn't been a problem before so why now?”

“Your *friendship* wasn't made public before now, Harry.” Remus scolded. “Walking
around whispering and holding hands with Hermione is one thing but to do it with a Court-assigned
guest without formal obligations to court is just inappropriate.”

“Is that you talking or the Court?”

Remus sighed. “It's everyone. Even Sirius is concerned.”

“Then why doesn't he talk to me himself instead of getting you to do his dirty work?” Harry
spat. “You aren't his puppet.”

“Indeed I am not.” Remus agreed. “But when the two of us share the same understanding, it helps
that I -”

“So you both want me to court Clara?”

“No, Harry, that's not what we're saying.”

“Yes it is!” Harry said. “You're telling me that I either have to court Clara or stop having
relations with her altogether just because the Court doesn't find it appropriate that we're
friends.”

“Friends and being friend*ly* are two completely different things, Harry.” Remus said
firmly.

Hermione's head was spinning. She couldn't comprehend the things the two of them were
saying. Sure, she knew that Harry and Clara had been growing closer this past week but that
didn't mean that their relationship was up to the Court to decide. It was hard enough picturing
Harry courting her but to hear it said out loud was something completely different - and by Remus
no less! It was too much for her to handle, especially today.

Without any conscious effort to hide her presence, she sprinted as far away from the room as
possible without stopping. Her feet carried her down the stairs and in the direction of the
kitchen, which she knew to be deserted at this time of day. All the cooks and staff were usually
out in the protected greenery at this time of day, planning the night's courses.

The room was lit with an enchanted overhead lamp, making the room the brightest in the castle
next to the ballroom. She braced herself against the middle counter and caught her breath. She
hadn't run that fast since the war. A few minutes later and her breath was regulated, allowing
her brain to function more clearly.

Courting Clara. They had been talking about Harry courting Clara.

Normally the thought of Harry courting someone didn't bother her too much. She knew how he
was and never worried herself over it. But now that the Court was involved in his personal life she
had every right to be anxious. Harry would never cut ties with someone if he was ordered to unless
it was for their own safety, a fact that she knew too well. But if it was for his own reputation…
she didn't know. She didn't know and it bothered her to no end. He had never been faced
with a situation like this before and the fact that it was so unfamiliar scared her. Especially
since Clara was involved. She knew that Harry liked the Ravenclaw - that much was obvious by the
way he looked at her - but did he like her enough to consider the Court's subtle threat?

What exactly could the Court do if he refused? She shivered. She didn't want to think about
it.

“Hermione?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the call of her name. She turned to the door and saw Harry
looking at her with a raised eyebrow. Speak of the devil.

“Hello Harry.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked taking a few more steps into the room.

She shrugged. “Dunno.”

A flash of light and the following of thunder prevented him from commenting. Hermione shivered
at the sound and crossed her arms around her waist. She didn't like storms. Not one bit. Harry
knew this and strode right over to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder and pulling
her tightly to him.

“I'm guessing that's why you're back earlier than usual, then?”

“Hm?”

“The cemetery. You came back earlier because of the storm.”

“Oh, yes.” Hermione said. “I left when it was just beginning to rain.”

Harry nodded. “I'm sorry I wasn't there with you.”

She looked up at him curiously. “You've never come with me before.”

“There wasn't a storm before.” Hermione bowed her head and remained silent. Harry continued
speaking. “I was worried when I heard you were still out and the storm began to pick up. I was
going to go after you when Remus stopped me.”

“Oh?” Hermione said softly. “Why did he stop you?”

Harry was silent for a moment before answering. “He had a message for me from the Court.”

Hermione knew she had to play the part of the oblivious bystander if she wanted to get him to
keep talking. The more he disclosed about the argument, the more she would know about his final
decision. “What was the message?”

He laughed bitterly. “Apparently they're not too happy about my friendly relationship with
Clara.”

“But that's all it is, right? Friendly.”

Harry shrugged and removed his hand from around her shoulders. He walked a few steps away from
her and ran a hand through his hair, something he only did when he was frustrated or nervous. In
this case she guessed a combination of the two.

“I don't know.” He finally said. “I don't know what we are - I mean I like her but I
don't know if I do enough to court her.”

A small spark of relief began bubbling in Hermione's stomach. Maybe her worries were all for
nothing. “So what are you going to do?”

“What *can* I do, Hermione?” Harry asked. “If I break all ties with her I'll lose
respect from not only her and her mother but most likely from the entire kingdom of Ravenclaw as
well. But if I court her I might lose…” He trailed off.

“Might lose what?” Hermione asked. When Harry didn't answer her, she repeated. “Harry… might
lose what?”

He lifted his eyes to meet hers and she could *feel* his answer. She knew it deep within
her but couldn't find the will to leave it at that. And then he opened his mouth.
“Nothing.”

But it wasn't nothing, was it? It was never nothing.

“Then what's stopping you?” She asked darkly. “Court her.”

“Hermione…”

“Go on, what's stopping you?” She said, her voice beginning to break. “You know you want
to.”

“Hermione stop it.”

“Why should I?” She asked. “You've already made up your mind, I can see it in your eyes. Too
scared to say anything but knowing that if you do you might risk everything.”

“Hermione, please.”

“Just promise me that when you're courting her you'll look in her eyes not her breasts
like a common pig. Focus on something on her face so you don't let your eyes drift down and
compromise your precious reputation.”

“Hermione!”

She stopped. He strode over to her and backed her up against the countertop, gently enough to
allow her room to leave but close enough to let her know that he didn't want her to. Slowly, he
lifted his hand to caress her face and wipe her cheek with his thumb. He pulled his hand away wet.
She hadn't even noticed that she had been crying. He wiped the excess water off on his trousers
and took a final step toward her. Her breath caught as his hand came back up to wrap around her
neck and pull her face to his. Their foreheads touched and she could feel his shallow breaths
blowing against her skin. She angled her face up so that their noses bumped. Their lips were only a
breath away from each other.

“Harry…”

“Harry!” Remus came through the kitchen entrance with a solemn look on his face. The two of them
broke apart just before he entered the room. “I've been looking every - oh, hello Hermione.
Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

They both spoke at the same time. Their eyes met once more and Hermione spoke up once more. “I
was just leaving, Remus. He's all yours.”

“Hermione, wait.” Harry called as she shrugged out of his arms and walked towards the exit.

Hermione turned back and called over her shoulder. “No, Harry.”

And before he could refute, she continued on her way with her heart heavy in her chest. When she
cleared the kitchen she began a full-out sprint to her quarters. She didn't stop until she
reached her confined space and collapsed onto her bed. She let the tears stream down her face once
more and curled up.

*The rain*, she thought to herself. *Why did it always have to happen with the
rain?*

*His arms* *were* *wrapped tightly around her. The sobs have long since disappeared
and now only dry heaves remained to wrack her tired body. He had never once let her go - never once
loosened his protective hold. It must have been at least ten minutes since she had first flung
herself into his arms. There were no words, no comforting looks, just the two of them, alone in her
quarters. This was just what she needed. She couldn't have handled questions or sympathy. All
she needed was* this*, to just be held, nothing more nothing less.*

*Another rumble of thunder caused her to shiver. He ran a comforting hand in a circle on her
back, letting her know that it was alright. There was no reason to be afraid of the rain or the
darkness that surrounded the night sky. Not while he was there to protect her. She allowed the
first shadow of a smile to grace her lips against his clothed shoulder. With him here, the newly
wounded hole in her heart didn't seem so empty.*

*Tentatively, she began to raise her head from his tear-soaked shirt to look at him in the
eyes. They were a dark shade of emerald, highlighted by t**he flicker of candlelight. She
needed to thank him for being here. It meant more to her than he would ever realize. But their
unspoken embrace seemed too perfect to break. She felt that if she were to speak, it would mean the
end of this feeling of safety. She would go straight back to her fetal position on her bed,
consumed by tears once more. No. She had to let him know, even if it meant compromising her sanity
or even her better judgment. If an embrace was enough to portray reassurance, what could she do to
let him know her gratitude? Her body acted before she could think it through.*

*She began to raise her lips to his…*

She stopped herself with a jolt. There was no use dwelling in the past, especially not today.
What's done is done and there's not use trying to fix it. No matter how much she
desperately wanted to. She closed her eyes and let herself succumb to the sleep her exhausted body
so desperately craved.

-->



6. Do Not Go, My Love
---------------------



**A/N: I know I know I know I know! I am ridiculously late in updating. Senior year has been
unexpectedly busy these last couple of weeks with projects, extra homework, and** **other stuff
that has been occupying my time. If I would have known that this was going to happen I wouldn't
have started the story until I went on summer vacation. But this extra time has allowed me to write
a very long and detailed chapter that I am rather proud of. Maybe it'll make up for me not
updating in a while? Hopefully after I graduate I will be more efficient with updating but I make
no promises. Please bear with me! I will never abandon this story no matter how long it takes me to
write the chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, JKR does. I'm not that awesome.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 6: Do Not Go, My Love

*/**4 years ago**\*

*…*

“Hermione, dear, your tea is ready!”

“Coming, mum!”

She made her way downstairs to see her mother pouring the steaming tea into Hermione's
favorite cup. She practically skipped over to the table and plopped down next to her father. He was
already sipping his tea gingerly with a content smile on his face.

“How long until your lesson, dear?” Her mother asked, handing her the steaming mug.

She took the mug slowly, careful not to tip it the wrong way. “Just a few minutes.”

“You have everything you need?”

“I always do, mum.”

The older woman bristled. “Of course, of course. I'm just… well, it's your father's
birthday—”

“Jane.” Edward tried to interrupt.

She continued as if she hadn't heard him. “And I just thought that you could take a day off
just this once.”

“You know I would love to, mum,” Hermione said honestly. “But dad said he didn't want me to
miss another day of lessons for him *even though* I'm well ahead of schedule in my
studies.” She shot a poignant look at her father.

“I don't want you missing your schooling on my account. Your education with Remus was a
blessing and we will treat it as such like we have been doing for the past six years.” Edward said,
leaning forward in his seat once he spotted his wives' sour expression. “Jane, dear, we're
all going out to eat later tonight. That's all I really want for my birthday. A nice, quaint
dinner with the two women I love - nothing more, nothing less.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” She asked.

“Of course.” He said with a nod. “If there was any inkling otherwise you would be the first to
know, I promise.”

Jane smiled softly. “You just can't stand being doted on, can you?”

He returned her smile. “You know it's not my forte.”

“Mm.” She agreed with a slight furrow on her brow.

Hermione looked at her parents with an amused expression. She knew that it was pointless to
reason with her father since she inherited his disdain towards doting affections. Though it may be
bothersome to witness, she knew that within his head was a thick brick wall that wouldn't allow
anyone to change his perspective on the situation. There were certain things they could do to sway
him, yes, but he wouldn't truly be happy with them. Everyone should be truly happy on their
birthday.

Just as her parent's bickering was beginning to cool down, a loud *BANG* sounded in the
distance, followed by a small tremor that shook the house to its core. The vibrations were brief
but intense enough to cause Hermione to drop her cup of tea. The container shattered on the floor,
spilling the liquid and fragments of broken porcelain, forming a thin, sharp puddle on the floor.
Hermione turned to Jane and Edward to see them looking at her with wide eyes. Heart pounding
viciously in her chest, she got up from her seat and reached into her back pocket where she kept
her wand.

“Get down.” She whispered. They knew better than to refuse when she had her wand in her hand. If
it was the first weapon she reached for, it was something out of their control.

They found refuge behind one of the kitchen counters and kneeled down. Hermione turned around
once she knew they were out of sight and went to the door, inching it open to get a peak to the
scene outside. The small sliver of scenery was covered in a thin cloud of dust, making it hard for
her to see. She braved opening the door further and prayed that the dust worked two ways, covering
her from enemy eyes. Through the opaque dust she could see the remnants of what used to be a
neighboring home just down the street. The entire west wing of the small cottage-like home was
gone, leaving only a few pieces of wood foundation hanging. The sight was horrendous to behold so
much that Hermione had to cover her mouth to stop a sob from etching its way out. She knew the
family that lived there - a young single mother and her twelve-year-old magical daughter who had
only lived there a year. She hoped that they survived the attack but knew that the chances were
slim.

Suddenly through the smoke, Hermione saw a dark figure no more than ten feet away. She closed
the door enough so that she could see the initial sliver. The figure was moving slowly up the
street, scanning the perimeter for something or, she thought fearfully, someone. It stopped walking
abruptly and she became increasingly self-aware of her miniscule hiding place. A new black shadow
approached and a small sigh of relief passed through her lips.

“Did you find her?” The second shape asked in a low bass.

“No sir.” The first replied in a similar pitch.

“Damnit.” The second cursed. “He gave us *one job*-”

“Someone must have botched up the address.”

The second figure turned and gave what Hermione assumed to be an annoyed look. But she was too
terrified to find any humor in the situation. Those were Death Eaters, she was sure of it. Although
she could barely see through the fog, she could clearly picture their dark robes and shady
expressions. And they were looking for someone. Someone that could very well be… she wouldn't
dwell on it. Because if she did then she wouldn't have enough courage to throw open the door
and snap her wand in the direction of one of the shadows. Which is exactly what she did seconds
later

“*Stupefy!*”

The spell hit the Death Eater square in the shoulder. His partner's reaction was instant and
Hermione only just dodged the deadly green light that whizzed above her head. She wasted no time
sprinting down the street, leading the Death Eater as far away from her house as she could get. He
followed hastily, shooting curses of all shades at various places on her body. One purple spell
grazed her shoulder and made her stumble, throwing her slightly off balance. She pressed forward
through the slip and turned her head to aim another stunner at the figure. It missed by a mere inch
and Hermione swore inwardly to herself. She was running out of breath and could only dodge his
spells so many times.

Only seconds after thinking just that, she felt a crippling pain in her calf and collapsed onto
the pavement. She turned over, her wand held in a tight grip. She aimed another curse at the shadow
but her wand was blasted right out of her hand before she could even breathe out a spell. Panic
bubbled in her stomach as the shadow became increasingly more visible. With every step he took the
pain in her calf grew, spreading rapidly up her leg. All too soon the Death Eater came into full
view. He leaned down on the balls of his feet and removed his hood. Hermione screamed. His face was
covered in hair with eyes as black as coal, looking too animal like to be considered human. With
prodigious reflexes, he lunged foreword and pressed a hand over her mouth, muffling her screams.
Hermione struggled underneath him but he was too strong for her. He leaned in even further after a
moment and sniffed her like she was a lean piece of meat. This, more than anything else, shifted
her mind into a state of terror. She didn't know what was going to happen, but she sure as hell
was going to fight as hard as she could to prevent it.

She bit his hand, tasting his salty flesh. He growled and pulled it back. She immediately lifted
up her curseless leg and knocked him hard between his legs. The animal-man howled with pain but did
not budge like she so hoped. Instead he turned to her, fangs bared, and raised his hand. She braced
herself for a strong blow but a ruby red curse hit the Death Eater before he could so much as
scratch her. He collapsed atop her and she felt the breath leave her lungs in a rush. She tried
helplessly to push his weight off of her but it was useless - he was too heavy. Just when she
thought she would pass out from the pressure, two sets of legs approached and took hold of the man,
throwing him unceremoniously off of her. She felt like a fish out of water, gasping for air as she
tried to regain her breath.

“Hermione! *Hermione!*”

She heard his voice moments before he kneeled down beside her, sliding his hand underneath her
back and lifting her off of the street. He cradled her to his chest while she slowly felt air pass
through to her lungs again.

“Ha… Harry…”

“I'm here, `Mione. I'm here.” He said breathily.

She nodded against him burrowing her head into his neck. “I tried to fight… I really tried…”

“I know you did.” He said softly, running a hand through her hair. “You were so brave,
love.”

“No, not brave.” She countered weakly.

“Yes brave.” He said back.

He sounded so sure of his claim but still Hermione couldn't believe him. What she did
wasn't brave, it was survival instinct. She led the Death Eaters away from her parents, ran as
far as she could, and fought when she was pinned. No, she wasn't brave. Only stubborn -
persistent to live not only for herself but for moments like these. Moments with her friends and
her parents; those were the only things fueling her. If that was considered brave in Harry's
eyes, so be it. But to her own mind she was merely doing whatever was in her ability to stay alive.
Plus, she was too damn weak to find the will to argue with him. She could feel unconsciousness
looming over her like a warm wool blanket. Just before she snuggled deep with its warmth, she heard
another pair of approaching feet as Harry hugged her even closer to his chest.

~*~

When Hermione awoke, she was very much aware of the warmth surrounding her. Opening her eyes she
saw that she was no longer in Harry's arms but lying on her couch just in front of the fire,
which was burning brightly beside her. She shifted so that she was leaning on her forearm, giving
her a better view of the room. She let her eyes fly to the quiet murmurings in the kitchen.
Gathered around the table was a crowd of familiar faces including both of her parents, unscathed,
Harry, Ron, Remus, Albus Dumbledore, and Arthur Weasley. She began to swing her legs around to join
them but cried out when she felt the shooting pains from the curse she had received slash through
her joints. Her outcry caught the attention of the group in the kitchen and various exclamations of
“Hermione!” and “Darling!” were spoken as they rushed to her side.

Her mother was the first to arrive, kneeling quickly next to her and cupping her face with her
warm hands. Hermione smiled. “You're alright.”

“Of course I'm alright.” Jane said, bemused. “It's you we've been worrying about.
You've been out cold for a good two hours.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, surprised. It certainly hadn't felt like that.

Jane nodded. “But we knew you'd pull through... just *knew* it.”

“Our Hermione, the fighter.” Edward said, putting a hand on his wife's shoulder.

Hermione blushed.

“You gave us a right scare for a minute, though.” Ron said. “The entire time they were patching
up your injuries you didn't even flinch.”

Furrowing her brow, she looked down to her legs and saw that they were unmarked. Confused, she
looked next to her arm where she had felt the sting of the purple curse and saw a white wrap
surrounding the injury.

“Your leg is beyond most of our first-aid training.” Remus explained meekly. “Madame Pomfrey has
been owled and should be arriving soon to fix it right up.”

“Thank you.” Hermione said.

There was a short silence and Dumbledore stepped into view. She looked at the elder wizard as he
began to speak in a wistful tone. “I'm afraid I have the burden of asking you questions about
the attack, Miss Granger. That is, if you're up for it.”

Hermione nodded. “Of course.”

Jane and Edward moved away from their daughter and took seats on the chairs closest to the
couch. The remaining members of the party took random poses throughout the area - Remus leaning on
the fireplace mantle and Ron and Harry sitting cross-legged on the carpet. Dumbledore remained
where he was for a moment but with a simple wave of his hand, a stool appeared directly behind him
and he sat upon it gracefully. All ears and eyes were trained on the two of them.

“Your parents have already been kind enough to describe the beginning of the attack. An
explosion wracked your house and you told them to take cover, eventually running out of the door,
leading the Death Eaters outside away from the scene. The rest, I'm afraid, is a blank
page.”

Hermione took a deep breath and retold the tale of her chase with the animal-like Death Eater.
The room listened with bated breath. Dumbledore, ever the master of passive expressions, kept the
same face throughout the story. When she arrived at the moment when the Death Eater pinned her to
the ground, Ron's face turned red and Harry clenched the hem of the carpet so tightly that his
knuckles turned white.

“He was… he looked like an animal. A scary, furry, feral animal.” Hermione recalled, shivering
as the horrible image popped into her head.

“Greyback.” Remus said, nodding to himself. Hermione inched her head to look at him
questioningly. He met her eyes and straightened his composure, pulling nervously at his collar
before explaining himself. “Fenrir Greyback. He's the werewolf that turned me when I was a
child. He takes sick pleasure in luring young children into his grasp and cursing them into the
lycanthrope way of living. You're lucky not to have been scratched. Even a cut may have had
dire consequences.”

Hermione gulped. “Lucky you came when you did. Whoever knocked him out… if they had waited
another second I could've…”

“Become infected, yes.” Remus finished. “Or had some serious craving for raw meat, like
Bill.”

“Bill?” Hermione asked. She turned to Ron. “Your brother?”

Ron nodded. “Greyback was the one who attacked him.”

Hermione let out a long breath. She had been so close to becoming infected with lycanthropy and
yet here she was, lying on the couch with only a cursed leg and sore shoulder. She was lucky. Oh
yes, she was incredibly lucky.

“But the questions still remains,” Remus said sternly. “What was he doing lurking about
Gryffindor's lower towns, blowing up a home?”

“A raid?” Harry supplied.

“It's possible.” Remus said forlornly.

“But Gryffindor has been without a major raid in over a decade.” Ron said. “What makes today any
different?”

“The fact that two Death Eaters blew up a house.” Harry said, looking at the redhead with a
raised eyebrow.

“Right,” Ron said, bowing his head.

“Hermione,” Dumbledore said softly, drawing her attention to him. “Do you have any hunch as to
why the Death Eaters came here?”

“I have an idea.” She said honestly, biting her lip. “But it's probably all wrong.”

“No idea is wrong when it comes from an educated mind.” Dumbledore assured her.

Hermione smiled softly. Although her idea was somewhat bizarre to her own ears, with
Dumbledore's encouragement she knew she had to at least voice it to the others before writing
it off as nothing. “I think they were after me.”

There was a long silence. Hermione looked around the room to see everyone sharing a look of
consensual disdain. “What?” she asked. “Oh. It's stupid. I know. But I heard them talking
before I stunned Greyback's partner. They were after a girl and complaining about attacking the
wrong address and - oh I've botched everything up, haven't I? It was just—”

“No, Hermione, that's not it.” Remus interrupted.

She became instantly puzzled. “Then what…?”

“That was our initial theory.” Edward said sadly, his hand held tightly within Jane's.

“I was only looking for conformation, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore said. “I knew that if I gave the
illusion of total befuddlement at their motives, you would speak what was on your mind, which I
knew to be something. With such a bright mind as your own, it would be hard not to analyze the
situation when first presented.”

Hermione blanched. “But… but they couldn't possibly be after me. What do I have to do with
anything?”

“You're my friend.” Harry said darkly. Hermione looked down and met Harry's emerald eyes
with her own. They were filled with an emotion she couldn't quite place. But whatever it was,
she didn't like it. “They want to use you for leverage… k-kill you, even, to prove that they
are superior and down my spirits.”

Hermione was stunned into silence.

“It's all my fault.” Harry said in a near whisper. “I'm so sorry, Hermione.”

“Don't you dare apologize.” Hermione said sternly. “I knew what I was getting into when I
stayed in Remus's tutelage. I knew the risks that came with being your friend - especially with
my blood—”

“Hermione—”

“Don't interrupt me, Damnit, I'm not finished. You need to hear this.” He closed his
mouth. “It has never been and will never be your fault if I am targeted. Hell, just because I'm
Muggleborn means I already have a giant red target painted on my forehead. But if you think for one
minute to put any blame on your shoulders for *my* decisions, you are sadly mistaken. I'm
here for you, Harry. Whatever it takes.”

Harry nodded slowly. “I know there's no sense in changing your mind.”

“Not at all.” Hermione said hardly.

He shook his head and breathed out a laugh. “I'll never stop trying.”

“I know.” Hermione looked back up at Dumbledore. “Where is Greyback now?”

“In custody.” Dumbledore said. “Where he will remain until his upcoming trial. But I'm
afraid there are more pressing matters than the whereabouts of your attacker.”

“Sir?” She asked wearily.

“It has become abundantly clear that you are no longer safe in the lower towns. After much
deliberation I think it is of the upmost importance that you relocate for your safety.”

“You mean leave?”

Dumbledore nodded. But before he could continued, Remus spoke up. “We have plenty of free rooms
in the castle for both you and your parents to stay until we can find you a more suitable
residence. I've already cleared it with Sirius.”

“But what about our home?” Hermione asked, looking at her parents. “You gave up everything to
live here six years ago and now we have to abandon it?”

“Not abandon, darling,” Jane said. “Just upgrade. Oh, you know how much I hate these creaky old
floors anyway.”

Hermione looked around the room forlornly. Sure, it may not be the most elegant of residency in
the kingdom, but it was still their home. But of course she knew that it had to be done. She
couldn't put her parents in danger any more than could be avoided. She turned back to
Remus.

“Thank you, Remus.” Hermione said. “Your hospitality is greatly appreciated.”

“Oh don't thank me.” Remus said with a slight smile. “It was Harry's idea.”

She turned to Harry, who was sporting a bashful look. When he felt her eyes upon him, he lifted
his head and shrugged. “If I can't get rid of you I may as well keep you close.”

Hermione smiled softly.

“We'll leave as soon as Madame Pomfrey fixes up your leg.” Remus said.

“But what about packing? It'll take hours to organize my essentials and—”

“No time.” Remus interrupted. “We don't know what became of that other Death Eater but there
is a very high chance that he went to find You-Know-Who and inform him of your location. The faster
we get you into palace walls, the better.”

“We'll take care of the packing, darling.” Edward said. “When you're getting healed and
acquainted with the castle, we'll be here getting all the essentials.”

“But you need to be protected, too.” Hermione argued. “I can't stay cooped up in the castle,
knowing you're out here in the open. It's too dangerous.”

“We'll be fine.” Jane said. “It'll only be for a few hours. We'll even have a guard
with here with us.”

“Who?”

“A member of the royal guard.” Remus answered. “He'll keep them safe.”

“Why can *he* pack our stuff, then?” Hermione asked hotly.

“Hermione.” Edward said warningly.

Hermione sighed. She still didn't feel happy about this situation. But she knew that it was
all for the best. With a highly trained royal guard protecting them, she knew that her parents
would be safe. The only thing standing between her and acceptance was her pressing paranoia. Still,
she knew that if she didn't agree it would just waste time and right now time was their only
advantage.

“Okay.” She agreed quietly.

~*~

Two hours and one healed leg later, Hermione was standing in front of her home's fireplace,
floo powder clutched tightly in her fist. Ron walked into the brick dome, turning on his heel and
saluting to her before he said “Gryffindor Castle!” and dropped his helping of powder to his feet.
He and Harry had stayed with her while Madame Pomfrey had worked on her leg - a painful and tedious
process in itself. Remus and Dumbledore had left earlier to the castle to prepare for her and her
parent's arrival.

Harry was next to leave and he shot her a lopsided grin before disappearing in a cloak of green
smoke. She managed a smile back before his outline was gone completely. Now it was only her, her
parents, and the palace guard left in the room. She turned around and saw her parents looking at
her with soft smiles upon their pleasant faces.

“Go on, Hermione.” Jane said, sweeping her hand in the direction of the fireplace.

Hermione sighed and turned around, taking the few steps into the fireplace. She rotated on her
heel to get one last glance at her parents. They waved in unison and she managed one back to
them.

“Love you.” She said.

“We love you, too, sweetie.” Jane said cheerily. “See you soon!”

Hermione nodded. Before she could hesitate for one more moment, she unclenched her fist and let
the floo powder fall, calling her destination as it hit the floor. She instantly felt the familiar
tug of the network and mere seconds later she was walking out of the fireplace in Gryffindor
Castle's infamous library. Just a few steps to the left was a door leading the classroom her
lessons usually took place with Ron, Harry, and other members of nobility who were tutored by Remus
on a weekly basis.

“Hermione.” Harry said, catching her off-guard. She saw him sitting on a nearby table, beckoning
her with his finger. She obliged, albeit slothfully. When she reached him, he slid off the table
and pulled her into a warm embrace.

“I'm so glad you're alright.” He said softly, running a hand through her hair.

“Me too.” She said, squeezing him tightly.

“Hermione.” Remus walked over to the pair, hands in his robes. She hadn't been aware he was
in the room. She and Harry let go of each other and turned to him. “You should go off and find your
chambers. Harry can show you to them.”

“Of course.” Harry said, holding out his arm.

Hermione smiled, feeling all of her remaining worries melt away. She took Harry's arm and
let him lead her out of the library.

~*~

*BOOM!*

The crack of thunder sounded throughout the dark castle. The storm had only just begun ten
minutes ago. What started out as a simple shower quickly changed into raging winds and bright bolts
with their resounding thunderclaps. Hermione, who had been lounging in her new room, quickly became
alert. Harry was somewhere off with Ron, working on dueling. Or that's what they told her. In
reality, she had no doubt that they were playing wizard's chess in Harry's chambers.

She looked at the clock. It had been two and a half hours since she had arrived. Her parents
should have been back by now. Puzzled, she decided to investigate. She put down the book she had
been reading and slid off her bed, walking at a brisk pace in the direction of the library.

She came to the entrance hall within minutes, the heels of her shoes clicking against the
marble. Another bolt of lightning shone through the windows and its thunder soon followed. She
stopped and looked out at the storm outside. The rain showed no sign of letting up anytime soon,
coming down in sheets.

The sound of footsteps entering the hall stirred her. She looked to her right and saw a dark
figure approaching her, hands stuffed in their pockets. She knew that stance.

“Remus?”

The figure stopped and angled his body toward her. “Hermione?”

She nodded and took a few steps to him. “I was just on my way to the library. Do you know if my
parents have arrived yet?”

“That's actually why I was out here, Hermione…”

“Oh, so they're here?” Hermione asked excitedly.

Remus avoided her gaze.

“Remus?” She asked, her tone significantly softer.

He lifted his eyes back up to hers and removed his hands from his pockets. He then took a few
more steps toward her until they were only a foot apart. From this distance she could see that
there was a deep sadness in his eyes. She frowned. “What is it? What's wrong?”

“It… it's your parents.”

“What about them? Are they running behind schedule?”

“No, Hermione, they… they're dead.”

Her stomach felt like it dropped from the highest tower of the castle. She stared at Remus, her
eyes wide. She felt tears begin to prickle beneath her eyelids as she shook her head. “No… no they
can't be. I just saw them.”

“The Death Eater that disappeared came back like Dumbledore predicted.” Remus started. Hermione
put a hand over her mouth to mask a gasp as he continued. “He brought an entire raid of people with
him. The guard didn't stand a chance. Your parents were both murdered before we could get more
men on the scene. I'm so sorry, Hermione. We just weren't quick enough.”

She began to hyperventilate into her hand. The tears were fully welled in her eyes and she felt
them begin to cascade down her face. Remus took another step towards her but she inched back.

“Hermione—”

She lowered her hand. “I just… need to be alone.” She said, trying to hold back the sobs that
were etching to get out of her throat.

“You don't have to be.” He said.

She nodded her head. “Please just leave me alone.”

“Hermione…” Remus said pleadingly.

Before he could convince her otherwise, she sprinted back towards her room. The sobs began to
come out of her throat as she ran, echoing against the walls. Tears were streaming down her face
and by the time she reached her chambers, her cheeks were damp. She shut the door behind her and
placed her back against it. She was heaving as she tried to calm herself. She only managed a few
more shaky steps forward before collapsing onto her bed. She grabbed a pillow and clung to it
desperately, continuing her cries.

Dead. Her parents were dead - murdered by Death Eaters - all because of her.

She should have insisted on better protection. She should have refused to leave her house
without them. She should have told her father “Happy Birthday.” *She should have, she should
have, she should have…* But what good was it now? It was all in the past. She couldn't go
back and change it no matter how much she dreadfully wanted to. And the fact that she couldn't
made her plunge deeper into the terrifyingly morbid depths of her thoughts. There was nothing she
could do now - absolutely nothing. All that she could do was cry. Cry for the pressing loneness
that she felt, cry for the looming depression hanging over her head, but most of all cry for the
lives that were snatched from both of her parent's bodies when they never stood a chance.

How could someone do such a thing? How could they live with themselves, knowing that they
stripped the life out of someone? What were the benefits of it? What could they possibly gain? Why
*them*? Why her parents? What did Jane and Edward Granger do to deserve this?

They had a magical daughter, that's what.

She let out another painful sob and flung the pillow off of her bed. She pushed herself up into
a sitting position and hugged her knees to her chest. As she looked up she saw that she was facing
the window just beside her bed. The rain was still pouring from the dark night sky. She observed it
for a while until her quick study soon turned into a lasting stare. She enamored herself in the
raindrops almost to the point where she felt every one of them touch her skin. They quickly became
her temporary escape. The rain. Imagine that. Of all the things to calm her down.

She couldn't tell the time - didn't know if it had been minutes or hours since she lost
herself. But after some time a knock came at the door and pulled her from her blissfully blank
mind.

One… two… three.

Harry.

He barely made a sound as he walked through the doorway. She could only tell he was in the room
when she heard the door click shut softly, almost like a whisper. His presence filled the room with
a layer of something distinctly *him*. She craned her head over her shoulder and saw his
figure standing a few steps from the door, looking at her with intense, sad eyes. He didn't say
a word.

“They're gone.” She said huskily, her voice tired from her earlier sobs.

He nodded.

She pressed her lips together, feeling tears begin to appear once more. She had been pulled from
her reverie and now she had to face the consequences. Before she could stop herself, she inched off
of her bed and walked over to Harry. He took a few long strides toward her and they met in the
middle of the room in a loving embrace. He held her as if she was a porcelain doll and she clutched
to him like he was her lifeline threatening to straighten.

She began to cry once more, her tears soaking the fabric of Harry's shirt. He didn't
pull away nor did he recoil. He simply held her tighter as she let the sobs wrack her body once
more, the sadness returning to her body. They stayed like that for what seemed to be hours. Every
once in a while Harry would draw circles on her back with his fingertips or Hermione would burrow
her head in his chest, neither of them speaking a word. It was a rare moment to share with someone
- to simply hold them and not say anything, not one word, but be in each other's arms as time
becomes a blur.

Hermione's conscious thoughts slowly began floating back to her as she pulled herself from
the haze. A low rumble of thunder sounded from outside and she shivered. His arms wrapped tightly
around her. The sobs had long since disappeared and now only dry heaves remained to wrack her tired
body. He had never once let her go - never once loosened his protective hold. It must have been at
least ten minutes since she had first flung herself into his arms. There were no words, no
comforting looks, just the two of them, alone in her quarters. This was just what she needed. She
couldn't have handled questions or sympathy. All she needed was this, to just be held, nothing
more nothing less.

Another rumble of thunder caused her to shiver. He ran a comforting hand in a circle on her
back, letting her know that it was alright. There was no reason to be afraid of the rain or the
darkness that surrounded the night sky. Not while he was there to protect her. She allowed the
first shadow of a smile to grace her lips against his clothed shoulder. With him here, the newly
wounded hole in her heart didn't seem so empty.

Tentatively, she began to raise her head from his tear-soaked shirt to look at him in the eyes.
They were a dark shade of emerald, highlighted by the flicker of candlelight. She needed to thank
him for being here. It meant more to her than he would ever realize. But their unspoken embrace
seemed too perfect to break. She felt that if she were to speak, it would mean the end of this
feeling of safety. She would go straight back to her fetal position on her bed, consumed by tears
once more. No. She had to let him know, even if it meant compromising her sanity or even her better
judgment. If an embrace was enough to portray reassurance, what could she do to let him know her
gratitude? Her body acted before she could think it through.

She began to raise her lips to his, her wounded conscience doing nothing to stop her. They
pressed against his softly and she felt him stiffen. Before he could pull away, she leaned into him
and moved her hands to cup his shoulder blades. She needed to thank him properly for being here. If
he pulled away now it would all be for nothing. After a few moments of her lips upon his, she felt
him respond to her kiss, opening his mouth under hers. Delicately, she traced his lips, feeling
them move and pucker. She gripped him tighter and felt his hands move to the small of her waist,
keeping her close.

The friction between their bodies soon began to heat up and with that, the kiss intensified.
Harry's tongue outlined the hem of her lips and she readily opened them, letting him inside her
sacred barrier. Their tongues met and entangled in one another, causing them both to let out noises
of muffled appreciation. The want for air was far from their minds as they were too wrapped up in
each other to care. Yet all too soon the want turned into a need and they pulled apart so that
their noses were barely touching.

Hermione leaned in, tenderly recapturing his lips and Harry responded instantly. One of her
hands began to trace down his back and to the front of his trousers but before she could reach it,
his hand slid down and blocked its path. He pulled away from the kiss and looked at her with
intense eyes.

“No.” His voice was hoarse.

She tilted her head to the side in question.

“I can't do this to you, Hermione. You know it's wrong.”

Deep down, past her conscienceless haze, she knew that he was speaking some sense. But there was
still a part of her that wanted to forget what he just said and continue. And that tiny fragment
scared her more than anything else. Slowly, she unwound herself from his embrace and wrapped her
arms around herself. She must have looked a sight with swollen eyes and swollen lips to match.

Tentatively, she met his eyes and spoke in a soft whisper. “Stay with me, Harry.”

“Hermione…”

“Please.” She said pleadingly. “I can't be alone tonight.”

After a moment of silence, Harry nodded. He walked forward and grabbed her hand gently in his,
leading her to the bed. He let go to draw back the covers and allow her to slide in first. She
rolled over to her side and felt Harry get in beside her. He pulled the covers back over them and
she turned around to bury herself in his chest. He slid an arm around her waist to hold her close.
Together, they drifted into unconsciousness in each other's embrace.

-->



7. Dear Old Friend
------------------



**A/N: Hey look! It didn't take me a month to update this time! YAY! Unfortunately, this
chapter isn't as long as the last one but I'm sure you'll still like it. Well, I hope
you will. I think the ball will be within the next two chapters and that is where the story is
going to get** **really** **interesting. So please, keep on reading and don't give up on
the story just yet! Thank you all for sticking with me thus far! I hope to get back on track soon
:)**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. JKR owns everything.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 7: Dear Old Friend

Only three days remained before the ball and the activity in the grand ballroom was in full
swing. The beginnings of the decorations were starting to adorn the walls - gold and crème, just
like Clara wanted. Hermione observed the scene with a stony expression. She knew that coming down
here would only put her in a sour mood but she had to get out of the confines of her chambers. The
past few nights had been filled with dreams of her past that she wished would leave her be. She had
thought after so many years of avoiding them they would disappear entirely. But apparently the
Fowl's arrival elicited more than femininity within the castle.

“Hermione.” The overly-sweet soprano of Hermione's least favorite castle inhabitant sounded
from her right.

She turned and put on a fake smile. “Clara.”

“I apologize for the mess.” Clara said, motioning to the random bits of fabric and other various
garments strewed across the floor.

Hermione waved a nonchalant hand. “You're in the beginning stages of décor. I don't
expect a portrait of excellence.”

“Good, good.” She said in relief. “It's just… gods, I've been so stressed this
week.”

“I can only imagine.” Hermione said, stopping herself before her tone turned sarcastic.

“I swear I wouldn't have gotten through this week without - oh, speak of the devil.” She
waved to someone behind Hermione's shoulder. “Harry! Harry! Over here, darling.”

*Oh good lord*, Hermione thought to herself. *Just what I need.*

She had been skillfully avoiding Harry for days now and, of course, as soon as she runs into
Clara, he's there. She should have known. She had heard that they had been attached at the hip.
Of course, she had refused to believe it. But now that she saw him walking over to Clara's
side, she knew that denial was no place for her mind.

“Hermione.” Harry said politely. “You've been invisible these past few days. Where have you
been hiding?”

“Oh, I've been around.” Hermione answered.

Harry looked as though he was about to respond but then stopped himself. He narrowed his eyes
and stepped forward. Hermione felt her stomach tighten as he put a hand on her chin, tilting her
face at an angle. Suddenly, she knew what he was doing and maneuvered out of his grip. He remained
close to her and spoke in a low, concerned voice.

“Hermione are you alright?”

“I'm fine.”

“What is it?” Clara asked from behind Harry.

He ignored her inquiry as he questioned Hermione further. “Have you been having nightmares
again?”

“No.” She said truthfully. “Just a few restless dreams is all. Nothing to worry about.”

“Hermione, the circles under your eyes look like bruises.” He said hardly. “What's going
on?”

“Nothing to concern yourself about,” She said icily. “Go on back to your party plans.”

“Hermione—”

“Just leave it, Harry.” Hermione said just before she spun on her heel and left the room, head
held high.

He watched her leave with a heavy heart. Something was on her mind, he knew it - something that
was haunting her even in the sanctity of her dreams. He wished that he had caught it sooner but he
had been so busy assisting Clara with the ball that he hadn't had a spare moment to make any
attempt. Not to mention Remus had been constantly breathing down his neck about his reputation.

“Will she be okay?” Clara asked.

“I don't know.” He answered honestly. “She's strong but not invincible.”

“One can only run from their demons for so long.” Clara said wistfully.

Harry turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. “I think that's the deepest thing
I've heard you say.”

She smirked. “I can be deep.”

“Mm.” Harry murmured noncommittally.

She playfully shoved him and he laughed.

“Come on.” She said. “You can help hang the kingdom banner.”

She turned and began to lead him toward the far side of the room.

“Oh joy.” He mumbled to himself. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to hang a banner.
There were more important things at hand, like Hermione's wellness. But he still had a duty so,
with a heavy sigh, he followed. He would find Hermione later and fix whatever was bothering her
before she became to broken to repair.

~*~

She was cooped up in the library, her one escape since before she could remember. Sleep tugged
at her eyelids but she fought it off. The last thing she needed was to fall asleep. She would only
wake up a few minutes later, sweating or screaming.

Each night she was delving deeper and deeper into the past, revealing feelings she forgot that
she had. The dreams became more like nightmares every time she closed her eyes but thankfully they
still hadn't quite gotten to that point. She was dangerously close to passing the point of no
return, where the nightmares would slowly begin and then mold into full blown night terrors,
something she hadn't experienced since the war.

During the war she rarely got a night of sleep. The castle was constantly under attack and she,
Harry, and Ron were forced into hiding. During the nights they were on the run she was haunted by
night terrors that caused her to erupt into a screaming fit. They consisted of her parent's
murder, Harry being tortured at the wand of his foe, and the Weasley family being at the mercy of a
raid of Death Eaters. Harry theorized that the high stress made her mind weak and easy picking for
Voldemort and his most skilled Legilimens. While they never found out if that was true or not, the
night terrors had continued through the war and the weeks following. The only refuge she found was
when Harry held her in his arms as she slept. She didn't know why this helped, whether it was
his Occlumency or mere presence, but it did. And since he was well out of her reach, it was out of
the question to ask him for help. No matter how much she wanted to.

Now that Harry had noticed that she was lacking sleep, she had to come up with a way to quickly
rid herself of the restless nights before he tried to help. The last thing she needed was him
worrying over her. With a quick trip to the library, she was soon reading about powerful sleeping
droughts, the kind they never covered in Remus's curriculum. No, she was looking in the more
commercial and common used potions rather than deathly ailments and life-saving brews. After hours
of searching she had it narrowed down to two: “Susan's Supple Sleep Supplement” and “Edna's
Easy Dream Elixir.” Both had similar ingredients but covered different areas of her problem. She
concluded to try both and decide which helped more after she felt their effects.

Packing up her things, she ventured down to the dungeons, where all of the potion-making
ingredients and supplies were held. Usually the court physician oversaw the potions but today was
her day off and since Hermione was a permanent, trusted resident of the castle, she had a key to
the sealed room. As she made her way down the narrow hallway towards the door she shivered at the
significant drop in temperature.

When she entered the room, she walked over to the shelves to gather ingredients for both potions
and quickly, albeit carefully, began to brew them. The more time she wasted, the more tired she
would become. There are few things more dangerous than trying to make a potion while fending off
slumber.

Thirty minutes and a few slight knife cuts to her fingers later she had both potions in separate
vials ready to use. She smiled to herself and hurried to her chambers, eager to try out her
concoctions. On the way up she thanked Merlin she didn't pass anyone. They were all busy
preparing for the ball. For once, she was thankful for Clara and Elizabeth's influence about
the castle.

When she reached her room, she closed the door behind her and walked over to her bed. Removing
her shoes and corset, she readied herself for sleep, praying that at least one of the potions would
work. She uncapped the first vile of “Susan's Supple Sleep Supplement” and pressed it to her
lips, letting the cool liquid wash through her mouth. It tasted like mint. She let her shoulders
relax as she finished the bottle and laid down on the bed. As soon as her head hit the soft pillow,
she felt sleep wrap around her senses and greeted it like a dear old friend.

*“Let her go!”*

*“Harry! Harry no!” She struggled against her magical binding. “It's a trap!”*

*“Harry Potter.” The cold voice of Lord Voldemort spoke. He lifted the cloaking charm he had
placed on himself and stood between them so that his back was facing Hermione. “Come* *to save
your precious Mudblood?**”*

*“Harry please!” She pleaded.*

*“Let her go, Riddle.” Harry said menacingly.*

*“**Of course**.” Voldemort said**, inclining his head to the side**. “But
first, you must give yourself to my bidding. Let the world live without its hero.”*

*Harry stood still.*

*Voldemort cli**cked his tongue and turned to Hermione**. He raised his wand and
shouted “*Crucio!*”*

*The curse hit* *her* *square in the stomach and* *she* *screa**med.
The pain was excruciating, seeping into her veins and making her blood boil to agonizing
temperatures. She thrashed against the bonding and tried desperately to shake the throbbing stings
of the torture curse.*

*“STOP!” Harry's voice boomed, filled with desperation and fear.*

*Suddenly, the pain stopped and she caught her breath. Sweat was sticking to her forehead and
her heart was heavy in her chest.*

*“That-a-boy, Harry.” Voldemort said, a sickening grin on his snake-like face. He took a step
forward.*

*“No…” Hermione said weakly.*

*“Come closer.” Voldemort said, beckoning him with his finger.*

*“Let her go first.”*

*“Certainly.” He said.*

*He waved his hand and Hermione felt the bonds disappear. In the aftereffects of the Cruciatus
curse, the bonds were the only things keeping her upright* *on her weak legs**. As soon
as they vanished, she collapsed onto the grass in a heap.*

*“Hermione!” Harry screamed, rushing to* *be at* *her side.*

*“Not so fast, Potter.” Voldemort sneered**, holding out an arm**. “Crucio!”*

*The spell hit him and he tumbled to the ground, writing in pain.*

*“NO!”*

“Hermione.”

“No, stop it! Please, let him go!”

“Hermione!”

“HARRY!”

“*Hermione!*”

Her eyes shot open. Harry was hovering over her, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her awake.
He stopped as soon as their eyes met.

“Harry?”

He breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. But his face soon turned stony. “You said you
weren't having nightmares.”

“I wasn't.” She said, sitting up.

Harry took a seat by her knees. “Then what was that?”

Hermione bit her lip. “A lucky coincidence?”

Harry fixed her with a level stare.

“Oh, fine, it was a nightmare, okay?” She said in annoyance. “But it's the first I've
had in years, I swear.”

“Then why haven't you been sleeping well?”

She shrugged. “I've had things on my mind.”

“Like what?”

“None of your business, that's what.” She said defensively.

“Hermione.” He said warningly. “We've known each other for nearly a decade. Keeping secrets
seems a bit counterproductive, don't you think?”

She took a pause before sighing. “I just can't, Harry.”

“Can't what?”

“I think you know what.” She said quietly. He bowed his head. “Harry I can't pretend
anymore.”

“I know.” He answered in a similar tone.

“Then why are you here?”

He lifted his head and gave her an odd look. “What?”

“You're only making it worse.” She said, feeling tears begin to form behind her eyelids.
“You and me… we're not how we used to be, Harry. You have your upcoming royal responsibilities
and Clara and I… I have my S.P.E.W duties.”

“You're still working on that bill?” He asked, sounding surprised.

“Of course I am.” She said quickly. “It's very important for house elf rights to have
a—”

“Right.” He interrupted. “But I don't think that our lives should get in the way of our
friendship, `Mione.”

“But they already have.” She said softly. “It took you a week to notice I've been losing
sleep when you're usually on my case the night after. I haven't had a conversation with you
since that night in the kitchen when we almost—” He looked at her expectantly but she shook her
head and changed the subject. “Things have changed, Harry. We'd be fools not to accept it.”

“Hermione what are you talking about?” Harry asked, aghast. “You're speaking as though
we're not friends anymore but we *are*. You're my best friend, Hermione, and I'm
not about to lose you to responsibilities and whatever else stands in the way.”

He cupped her face with his hand. She met his eyes slowly and let a small smile grace her lips.
“Why are you so good to me?”

“Someone has to be.” He said teasingly. She laughed and put her hand atop his, silently thanking
him. He turned his hand over and interlaced their fingers. He let them rest on the space between
them and squeezed in response.

He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “They're only here for a few more days. Do you
think you can survive until then?”

She shrugged. “I want to say yes but my subconscious begs to differ.”

He knew she was trying to make light of the situation but he didn't laugh. He knew what it
was like to go days without sleep. You not only carry yourself heavier but your mind becomes
increasingly weaker with each moment you force your eyes open. He could think of only one way to
attempt to help her - something he hadn't done since the war.

“Let me stay with you tonight.” He said.

She looked at him reproachfully. “I don't know if that's the best—”

“Hermione we both know that during the war we slept better when we were together. Now, I
don't know if it'll work but it's worth a try.”

Inwardly, Hermione was ecstatic that Harry had suggested it first. Outwardly, however, she
maintained her composure with trained grace. “I suppose you're right. I've already tried a
potion and it proved to be ineffective so I don't have much choice.”

He nodded. “Another night without sleep and you may bite Clara's head off.”

“I have been nothing but nice to her since she arrived.” Hermione defended herself.

“Yes, but I see the way you look at her.” Harry said with amusement. “It doesn't take a seer
to notice the way you glare at her when you think no one's watching.”

Hermione blushed. “We should probably tuck into bed.”

“Great idea.”

The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon but Harry knew that Hermione needed all the
rest he could hope to provide for her, even if he wasn't yet tired. He kicked off his shoes and
pulled off his overcoat and shirt, preparing himself for what he hoped to be a peaceful sleep.
Hermione was already snuggled deep within the covers but had yet to close her eyes. She was waiting
for him. He slid in next to her and pulled her close to him, hugging her back to his chest.

*Please work*, he thought to himself as he felt Hermione's breathes grow deep and
even*.* *Please let her sleep peacefully**.* *Please.*

He continued repeat similar phrases in his mind until he too began to slip into unconsciousness.
Soon, both were sound asleep, enjoying peaceful slumber and blissfully unaware of the opaque white
mist that hung over their bodies.

-->



8. A Miraculous Healing Ability
-------------------------------



**A/N:** **Hello faithful readers! Let me just say that it has been pure torture finding
inspiration to write these past few weeks. That's right; I have plenty of time to write but no
will to write anything worth posting. This chapter started as nothing and branched into something
that I am very proud of. It's weird how that works. I think it was the buzz of my brand new
laptop that pushed me to write something. So thank you, amazing thing that I am currently typing
with! You rock my world. And to all the people who are still reading this story despite my horrible
updating habits:** **THANK YOU!** **Your time spent reading and** **reviewing really keeps
me going** **even if I have no motivation whatsoever to write. I hope to get back on track
soon.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is only mine in my dreams. So unless we're in**
**Inception** **right now, I have no claim over him.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 8: A Miraculous Healing Ability

“Oh you have *got* to be kidding me.” Ron whispered to himself as he looked upon his two
best friends entangled in Hermione's bed sheets.

When Remus cursed loudly that Harry was missing from his bedchambers that morning at breakfast,
the castle had almost erupted into a frenzy. The maids began bristling with worried whispers, the
cooks ceased in their meal preparations, and even the gardeners stopped trimming the hedges to
exchange hushed theories on where he had gone. But, being the kind and eloquent friend that he was,
Ron decided to interject by suggesting he look around for the missing prince. After all, he did
know him best. He was granted permission by both Remus and the king to roam the grounds and scout
for as long as it took to locate Harry. But he didn't need more than the five minutes it took
to go upstairs to Hermione's bedchambers. The sight that awaited him came as no surprise.

After all, he did know them best.

“Wake up.” He said hardly.

Neither of them budged.

He sighed and raised his voice. “Wake up you cads!”

Hermione moaned and shifted in Harry's arms. Her eyes opened drearily and as soon they
focused on Ron standing with his arms crossed at the edge of the bed, they became wide.

“Harry. Harry *get up*!” She elbowed him in the chest as she shrugged out of his
embrace.

He made a noise of protest and opened his eyes, clearly peeved at being woken up in such a
distasteful manner. But when he realized they were not alone in the room, his expression soon
turned meek as he attempted to avoid Ron's gaze.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Ron said mockingly.

“Ron I can—Ë® Hermione started.

“Save it, Hermione.” Ron interjected. He looked at the two of them accusingly and made a gesture
in the rapidly growing space between their bodies. “I thought you two were finished with this.”

Hermione bit her lip and shifted her attention to the bedspread gathered at her waist.

“Oh let it be, Ron.” Harry said. “Hermione's been having some rough nights and I wanted
to—Ë®

“To help, yeah.” Ron finished. He had heard the story before. “But we're not at war anymore.
If someone other than me walked in on the two of you like this, you'd be in some serious
shit.”

“I know,” Harry said morosely. “But she… she *needed* me Ron. The circles under her eyes
are huge, just look!”

Ron took a few steps forward and knelt by the side of the bed. He grasped Hermione's chin
in-between his thumb and forefinger and tilted it left and right, paying special attention to her
eyes. His brow furrowed as he looked over at Harry, who had scooted closer to Hermione as Ron began
studying her face.

“What circles?”

“What cir—? Ron they're right there, under her eyes.”

Ron removed his hand from her skin and shook his head. “No, they're not.”

“Yes, they are.” He said adamantly. “Here, let me see.”

He reached his hand over and tilted her head towards him. He let his eyes travel to the skin
beneath her eyelids and felt his eyes narrow much as Ron's had. The dark circles had completely
vanished. He let his thumbs trace the patches of skin lightly as her eyes fluttered shut. What had
once looked like bruises were now a milky white shade that matched the rest of her skin
perfectly.

“You're right.” He whispered as he removed his hands. “They're gone.”

“Gone?” Hermione asked, opening her eyes. “What do you mean gone?”

“It's like they've disappeared overnight.” Harry said.

“But that's impossible.” Hermione said, looking at Harry and Ron with wide eyes. “Dark
circles don't just go away after one night of sleeping.”

“Especially the bruises you had.” Harry said.

Hermione gave him an annoyed look and he pressed his lips together, taking the hint to stop
talking.

“Regardless,” Ron spoke up, gaining both of their attentions. “You need to show your face at
breakfast before Remus sends a search party to find you. We can worry about Hermione's
disappearing sleep circles later.”

“He's right.” Hermione said. “We have more pressing matters at hand than my miraculous
healing abilities. As far as I'm concerned, whatever happened to them was for the best and
since I remain unharmed, I don't think it's anything to worry about.”

“But don't you want to know how it happened?” Harry asked.

“Of course I do.” She answered matter-of-factly. “But we have plenty of time to figure it out
later. For now, let's get dressed and go downstairs before the rumor mill stirs something
unflattering for your rapidly waning reputation.”

She ended with a bite in her tone and Harry recoiled. But before he could muster a response, she
threw the covers off of herself and went over to her wardrobe. Both boys took it as a sign to leave
and Harry, albeit grumpily, got out of bed and followed Ron into the hallway. Hermione waited for
them to shut the door behind them and as she heard the soft click that signified her solitude, she
let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

She walked over to the floor-length mirror against a nearby wall and examined her eyes, still
skeptical to believe what Harry and Ron said to be true. They were men, after all. Programmed to
tell women whatever they wanted to hear in order to make them feel good. But, surprisingly, as she
leaned in to carefully examine the place where her dark circles had been extremely present the
night before, she saw that they were right. There was nothing there but pale strips of skin to
match her natural complexion.

She pursed her lips. Something definitely happened over the course of the night to cause this.
She repressed her natural urge to research it back and took a step away from the mirror. She needed
to follow her own words - they had plenty of time to dwell upon this later. For now, there were
more important things to attend to such as the ball that was fast approaching. So, with her head
held high, she walked back over to her wardrobe and started fingering through her many gowns,
randomly choosing one for the day. As she pulled the green material off of its hanger, she caught a
glimpse of shining white fabric that had been previously hidden. She smiled as she looked upon the
gown she was to wear at the ball. She had put it in her wardrobe so neither Harry or Ron
wouldn't see it. She wanted to surprise them. Smiling softly to herself, she pulled a few more
dresses over to the side to cover it up and shut the door.

Maybe this ball had some perks after all.

~*~

She walked into the grand dining room and saw that not many people were left at the long table.
Not that she expected anything to the contrary - it was nearly noon.

“Hermione, where have you been?” Remus asked as she took a seat next to Harry and across from
Ron.

“Oh, I just slept in a few extra hours is all.” She said nonchalantly as she reached for the
kippers.

“Hm.” Remus said while looking at her oddly. “Did you share a sleeping draft with Harry? He was
late to rise this morning as well.”

“Was he?” She asked innocently before shrugging. “I suppose we must have.”

She saw Ron roll his eyes and quickly reached her leg underneath the table to kick him lightly.
He jumped when he felt her foot collide with his shin and glared at her. She gave him a pointed
look and turned back to her meal.

“Well, as I'm sure you've noticed, we have a guest with us today who has been patiently
awaiting a presence with the three of you.”

Hermione looked over to Remus and saw Dumbledore seated at his right. Her eyes widened. “No, no
I'm sorry I didn't. Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning,” He replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Hermione held back a shiver. Albus Dumbledore always gave off the air that he knew more than
others. There was no use keeping secrets from him. And because of this, there was a very high
chance he saw right through her white lie a moment ago. Or she was just paranoid and he was simply
reminiscing about something else entirely. Regardless, she kept a straight face and managed a small
smile at the elder wizard.

“What did you want to discuss with us this morning, sir?” Harry asked, breaking the thin fog of
tension that was looming over their heads.

“Oh just a few light subjects.” Dumbledore said, waving his hand around as though he was
swatting an invisible bee away from his face. “First, I am eager to know how the preparations for
the ball are coming.”

“They're great.”

“Fantastic.”

Harry and Hermione answered at the same moment and Hermione felt her face color as her answer
was spoken in a more bitter tone. Harry ignored her and continued speaking. “The preparations are
going very smoothly, sir.”

“And the Fowl's?” Dumbledore inquired.

“As helpful and efficient as ever.” He replied smoothly.

“Good.” Dumbledore said as he leaned back in his seat and scratched his chin. He looked at
Hermione and then to her right where Harry was sitting. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat,
feeling like he was staring right into her soul. But, to her great relief he said nothing and
turned to Ron.

“My other inquiry is about your father, Mister Weasley. Do you know if he plans…?”

Hermione tuned out after his attention was drawn away from her. She couldn't help but feel
incredibly vulnerable whenever Dumbledore was around. He was looking at her and Harry as if he
*knew* that they slept in the same bed last night. It scared her half to death. If anyone
other than Ron was to know about that, they could get the wrong idea and the news would spread like
wildfire. But Dumbledore wouldn't do such a thing. He was a man of a certain stature and was
well above the gossip mill. Even if that wasn't the case, he still may know more than Hermione
was comfortable with and that bothered her.

She fiddled with the hem of her dress nervously, feeling her appetite waning. She stopped after
a moment when a thought struck her: Perhaps Dumbledore, with his vast knowledge, may know something
of how the dark circles under her eyes disappeared. Asking him would certainly save her countless
hours in the library. She let herself focus back in on the conversation only to find him speaking
in hushed tones with Remus. She sighed. She would have to ask later.

Finishing up her breakfast quickly, she excused herself from the table and began walking in the
direction of the library. Dumbledore may have the answer she was looking for, but it still
didn't hurt to do a little research before she approached him. She passed a few staff members
on her way to the largest room in the castle and was relieved when they simply smiled and nodded at
her. If anyone was the least bit suspicious of her and Harry sleeping in today she would know it.
People in this castle were never subtle when they began to gossip. Thankfully, she saw no signs of
it and felt a weight lift off of her shoulders.

With a newly determined state of mind, Hermione entered the library and began searching for any
overnight healing spells. She first gathered a fair amount of books on the subject before retracing
her steps to where she had been yesterday in the Potions section. Another plausible option of her
miraculous recovery may have been that it was a side effect of the potion she had drank.

When she came to sit at her regular table, she had two stacks of books to go through. She blew a
stray piece of hair out of her eyes and set off to work, knowing she had a full day of researching
ahead of her. Looks like countless hours of researching weren't out of her sight just yet.

“I thought you said not to worry about it.” An accusing voice sounded from the other side of her
book pile.

She looked up and saw Harry watching her with a raised brow. She stared at him deliberately and
pointed a finger at him. “I never said those exact words. I said we had more pressing matters to
attend to.”

“We do.” Harry responded, nodding. “But if that's the case than why are you in here, hiding
behind a tall pile of books?”

Hermione felt her cheeks color. “I have an unnatural thirst for knowledge?”

He pursed his lips and sat opposite her. “At least let me help you so your brain doesn't
explode.”

She shook her head. “I am perfectly capable of doing this on my own. Besides, don't you have
preparations to oversee?”

He scrunched up his nose in disgust and Hermione giggled. “The Fowls have everything under
control, I'm sure.”

Hermione shrugged. “Perhaps. But the ball is two days away. Surely they need the prince's
approval on the incoming floral arrangements or something.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You're trying to get rid of me, aren't you?”

“Of course not,” Hermione said, feigning insult. “Why would I ever do that?”

Harry snorted. “I have *no* idea.”

Hermione shot him a winning smile and went back to flipping through the pages of “Healing Spells
for Everyday Uses.” Harry took her silence as an invitation to join and reached for the next book
in the pile. But just as he pulled it down a voice sounded behind him that made him stop
mid-movement.

“Harry! Oh there you are. Mother and I had been wondering where you'd wandered off to.”

Hermione clenched her teeth at Clara's sickeningly sweet tone and let her eyes flicker over
the top of her book. She was smiling widely at Harry and he was returning it wholeheartedly, making
her stomach twist in uncomfortable knots.

“I was just helping Hermione with some research.” He explained, gesturing to the vast amount of
books gathered on the table.

“Oh,” Clara said, looking at Hermione as if she just realized she was there. “I'm sorry to
have interrupted.”

“You didn't interrupt anything.” Hermione said, keeping her annoyed demeanor in check as she
looked back at Harry. “Harry was just about to leave.”

“But I just started.” Harry countered.

Hermione looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I told you I could handle it by myself.”

“Yes, but—Ë®

“But nothing.” Hermione cut him off. “I'm sure Clara needs your approval on something for
the upcoming ball, right Clara?”

The blonde witch looked slightly befuddled but nodded despite herself. “Yes, actually. A new
shipment of place settings just arrived and we needed your opinion on some of the designs.”

Hermione smiled softly. “Well there you have it. Go on, Harry, I'll be fine.”

“But—Ë®

“I'll be fine.” She repeated.

Harry held her gaze for a few moments and nodded. He let Clara lead him out of the library, her
arm linked with his. Hermione watched the pair depart with frown. Why did she just push him away?
He had been more than willing to stay with her in the library and help figure out what had happened
last night. What made her reject him? What compelled her to shove him into Clara's awaiting
arms?

She shook her head and tried to re-focus on the task at hand. She could worry about her bizarre
mood swings later. For now, she wanted to get to the bottom of her mysterious disappearing circles
and fatigue.

*Fatigue.*

She wasn't tired! For the first time in days she didn't feel an ounce of fatigue
weighing her down. It seemed that the dark circles weren't the only thing that disappeared.
With newfound determination and energy, Hermione set herself to research mode, eager to find out
how just one night of sleep could wash away a week's worth of sleepless nights.

Hours passed by in a flurry and soon, the candle she had fetched for her work station was burned
down to a nub. She had read each book twice and hadn't found a single thing that gave her a
hint of an answer. She looked over to the clock and saw that it was three in the morning - well
past her normal bedtime. She hadn't stayed up this late since her final exams. Sighing, she
knew that it was best to turn in before the sun came up. Carefully, she put each of the books back
and carried the candle with her to the library's doors. As she exited her haven, she blew out
the flame and placed the holster on a nearby table.

She traveled the dark hallways with a deep frown. It was incredibly frustrating to spend an
entire day researching and not finding a scrap of information relevant to your predicament. What
had happened last night was either a miracle or she had been reading all the wrong books. But what
were the right books then, if not the ones about healing spells and potion aftereffects?

She came to the grand staircase and ascended it quietly, mindful to not cause any loud
disturbances. When she came to the first fork where the hallway was split to the left and right
wings she stopped. To the right was her bedchamber where her second sleeping drought and warm bed
awaited her. She turned and faced the other direction, the path that led to the royal suits - where
Harry's room was. She bit her lip. Last night had been such a peaceful reprieve from her usual
nightmares, which had been growing worse and worse each night. If Harry hadn't been with her
she was sure that she would have woken up half the castle by midnight.

But could she really ask this of him again? She couldn't rely on Harry to be her nightmare
block forever. One day he would have another woman in his bed and she couldn't come crawling to
him whenever she had a bad dream. She would have to suck it up and find another way to cope. And
though she didn't like to admit it; that scared her more than anything. Not only because she
would be completely susceptible to nightmares but she would never share a bed with Harry again. She
would never have his hands wrapped around her, hugging her body to him as if she was the only thing
in his world. Never wake up to his smiling face. Never…

She clenched her fists together and stopped herself. That may be in the future but the future
wasn't now! She was going to soak in every moment she had left with Harry, even if she just
unconsciously pushed him away a few hours ago. She wouldn't suffer night terrors unless
absolutely necessary. So, with newfound determination, she pivoted on her heel and turned left,
following the long hallway into the royal west wing.

Harry's room was two more flights in the tower directly opposite hers. The door was closed
but not locked. She knew of the many safety charms that protected him at night but was one of the
few people who could walk through them without getting fried. She pushed open the doors and felt a
light tingling sensation wash over her body as she crossed the threshold. Making sure to shut the
doors quietly behind her, she tiptoed past the lounge area and over to where Harry's large
canopy rested in front of the window. All of the curtains were drawn back, letting moonlight wash
over the room and give Hermione a few of Harry's sleeping form on the bed. She smiled at the
serine scene and proceeded to pull off her dress and shoes, placing them in a nearby crevice.

As she approached, she could hear his steady breathing become louder, letting her know that he
was already sound asleep. Being careful not to disturb him, she pulled back the covers and slipped
in silently next to him. She let her head fall onto one of his fluffy pillows and felt exhaustion
overwhelm her senses and drag her into unconsciousness.

~*~

Sometime during the night Harry's arm had found its way around Hermione's waist and when
she woke up, she was pressed against his chest like the night before. She smiled and opened her
eyes. The miniature clock on Harry's nightstand read nine in the morning but it felt like she
had been asleep for days. She had made the right decision in coming here last night. Even if she
may regret becoming so dependent on Harry in the future, it was moments like these that reminded
her of what she was so reluctant to give up on.

As her eyes focused she saw a slight movement by the window. She furrowed her brow and looked
closely to see that one of the castle's owls was perched outside on the balcony. It was staring
right at her and she contemplated whether to let it in. Harry was still sound asleep beside her and
she didn't have the heart to wake him up just yet.

The owl cocked its head to the side, silently questioning her. Owls were smart animals -
especially ones that the castle has in their personal Owlery. Now that the creature saw she was
awake, it wouldn't take long for it to become annoyed and peck at the glass.

She sighed and began to slide out of Harry's embrace. It was better to risk waking him up
this way than have the owl's incessant pecking do the job. She managed to roll him over onto
his back, his breathing still as heavy and relaxed as ever. Smiling to herself, she padded over to
the window and opened it, inviting the owl inside. But instead of flying into the room, it simply
stuck out its leg where it had been clutching a folded envelope. She took the letter and whispered
thanks to the animal. It inclined its head in response and turned to fly away. She watched it
retreat fondly, observing its vast wings propelling it further and further into the sky. She had
always wished that she could fly but a childhood fear of heights had prevented her from using a
broom or strong levitating charm on herself.

She closed the window when the owl became only a speck in the distance and flipped the envelope
over. She saw that Harry's name was written with pristine handwriting in purple ink on its
surface and frowned. Who would use purple ink? Surely no one of great importance as the bright
color took away any formality that a letter may hold.

As she thought upon it for a moment she formed an idea of who it was from, though she
couldn't be sure. An overwhelming urge to unfold it and check washed over her and she bit her
lip. It wasn't right to go through Harry's things. Sure, she had done it plenty of times
before, but that was during the war when privacy was the least of their worries. Now it was a
completely different story. Even though it wasn't properly sealed and practically begged to be
unfolded.

*I would only look at it for a moment,* she thought to herself. *Just to make sure
it's not jinxed.*

*Oh, who are you kidding? It's not jinxed.* The voice of reason sounded in her
mind.

*It could be.* She countered.

*Of course it* could *be, but the* *chances of that being true are slim to none. You
just want to see if Clara wrote it.*

*So what if I do? It's a perfectly reasonable inquiry.*

*It's* Harry's *business, not yours.*

*Harry's business* is *my business.*

*Not anymore it's not.*

She clenched her teeth as the battle raged on in her mind. To leave it be would cause the least
amount of harm. She would only remain deathly curious. But if she opened it she may not like
what's inside. Or worse, Harry would somehow find out and she would never hear the end of how
she went through his things without his permission.

She looked back just as Harry turned over to his side and clutched his pillow. His was still
asleep. She looked at the letter and ground her teeth together. The pressure to open it was
maddening even though the risks outweighed the benefits. But, as she had said before, she had an
unnatural thirst for knowledge and it was pleading with her to open the letter.

“Oh, hell, she wrote with purple ink. It's begging to be opened.” She muttered to herself
just as she hastily unfolded the letter and began reading.

*Dear Harry,
I can't express how delighted I am that you accepted my invitation to accompany me to the ball.
I know that you had your doubt**s* *because it was last minute but I assure you that I
won't be a terrible bore!* *Meet me in my chambers no later than seven so we can arrive
together. I cannot wait for what is sure to be a truly magical night.*

*Love,
Clara*

Hermione's stomach was an intricate series of knots by the time she finished. She looked
over to where Harry was sleeping with a peaceful smile on his face. Sometime last night after she
had pushed him away, he had agreed to go to the ball with Clara on his arm. She felt tears prickle
behind her eyes as it sunk in.

It was all her fault. She had shoved him right into Clara's grasp and without knowing it,
began releasing him from her own. It was the first step away from her that he needed to leave her
behind. And for Clara. Clara, the Ravenclaw beauty that had so gracefully entered their lives when
least needed. Clara, the flawless woman with no real faults but what Hermione chose to dub her
with.

Clara.

She pressed her lips together and walked the letter to his bedside table, carefully refolding it
before setting it down. She looked down at Harry's sleeping form as she felt a single tear
cascade down her cheek. She lent down and ran a gentle hand through his hair, placing a delicate
kiss upon it as a goodbye of sorts. A farewell to their intimate closeness that she had always
taken for granted until now.

Even if he and Clara didn't last, their blooming relationship was sure to cause a dent to
mornings like this. Simply the fact that he accepted another woman's invitation to the ball was
enough to tell Hermione that he could easily leave her. It was silly of her to think otherwise. He
was never hers. Not even at night when he fought away her nightmares. Not even on rainy days when
she thanked him for staying.

No, Harry Potter didn't belong to her. But she belonged to him.

She removed herself from his side and went to the crevice where she left her clothes. Silently,
she pulled them back on and walked to his door to let herself out. But before she reached the
lounge, she looked back at Harry one last time as she wiped her teary eyes.

“Goodbye, my prince.”

-->



9. Curl of Lip, Swirl of Gown
-----------------------------



**A/N: Two chapters within a week of each other? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?! Well, my dear readers,
I think it's a sign that my writing is finally on track. Though I must warn you, since next
week is my birthday** **and** **the night of the Deathly Hallows Pt. 2 premiere, I may have
to update earlier than usual or wait another week. It all depends on how inspired I feel.** **I
know where I want to take the story** **next;** **I just need to come up with a way to go
about it. -sigh- The life of a writer. Oh, and if you want a better image of the outfits that are
described in this chapter, I put links at the end of the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. Duh.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 9:
Curl of Lip, Swirl of Gown

Harry finished straightening his red cape over the brown and gold clothing that had been set out
for him by the royal seamstress that morning. He was dressed in Gryffindor colors from head to toe,
the epitome of house royalty .He turned to face the floor-length mirror and sighed. Even the
premise of tonight's festivities couldn't lighten his mood. Hermione had been noticeably
absent from his chambers the night before and he hadn't seen a wisp of since then. Confusion
and concern had plagued his thoughts as he tried to piece together what had happened.

When she had climbed into his bed that night, he couldn't help but feel his mood lighten. He
had awoken some time during the night, drawing her into his embrace and holding her there until she
had chosen to leave later that morning. He wanted to speak with her, certain that something was
wrong, but she had been skillfully out of his reach these past two days. Now, it was nearly time
for the ball and he had to meet Clara in her chambers within the next few minutes.

He had been very reluctant in accepting her invitation to accompany her to the ball at first.
She was a nice enough girl. Beautiful, that was for sure. But there was something in the back of
his mind that wanted him to say no - to come up with any reason to decline her offer. And then he
remembered how eager Hermione had been to give him alone time with Clara. He wasn't sure why -
last time he checked she still hated the blonde Ravenclaw - but it had happened. Perhaps she had
come to terms with Clara. Perhaps she *wanted* him to be with her.

But didn't she already know that he…?

Never mind all that. It was all in the past.

He reached over to where his golden, bejeweled headband laid atop his desk. He hated the
wretched thing. It made his untidy hair look even more ridiculous by drawing further attention to
it. Hermione said it made him look “official.” He thought it made him look like a ninny.

Reluctantly, he placed the band on his head and adjusted it to the proper place on his head. He
turned to the hanging clock on his wall and saw that it was five minutes to seven. Sighing, he made
final adjustments to his appearance and exited his chambers.

It was only a few minutes' walk to Clara's room. On the way he passed many of the
castle's staff running about, most likely doing last-minute errands for the feast. As he
reached the hallway where both Clara and her mother resided, he passed the small side-hallway that
lead to Hermione's tower. He wondered if she was still up there, preparing for tonight's
festivities. What would she be wearing? Would she be bringing a date? He averted his eyes from the
crevice as these thoughts and many more ran through his head. He continued his path dawn the
hallway at a brisker pace.

When he came up to Clara's door, he knocked three times out of habit. He paused after the
third rap and quickly knocked one more time, correcting his mistake. The door opened and his eyes
nearly bugged out of his head.

She was wearing a royal blue dress with a silk under layer. It was embroidered at the top with
an intricate gold and blue design. Over the silk was a matching blue long-sleeved chiffon overcoat
drawn together at one spot just beneath her bosom by a golden clasp. Her hair was down in long,
flowing curls, pulled hallway back with a few pins. In her ears were a pair of golden earrings that
complimented the embroidery of the dress. A matching necklace completed her ensemble, bejeweled
with three sea-blue stones.

“Wow.” Harry breathed. “You look… incredible.”

Her cheeks colored. “Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.”

“Thanks.” He replied before he held out his arm for her to take. “Shall we?”

She took his arm gracefully, weaving her delicate hands in the crevice of his elbow. “We
shall.”

Together, they walked back down the hallway and in the direction of the main ballroom. The
journey was silent as they traveled through the castle. It was partly because Harry didn't know
what to say. His mind was still plagued with thoughts of Hermione and where she was, something he
knew he shouldn't worry himself over, especially when he was with another woman.

Clara chose to speak when they were mere meters from the closed doors. “Are you nervous?”

Harry turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“You've been awfully quiet.”

“Why would I be nervous?”

“You've never gone to one of these balls with a woman on your arm before.” She responded
thoughtfully, as if she had been planning this response. “Don't you think they'll be
questions?”

Harry pondered the question for a moment. She was right - he hadn't taken someone with him
to the Freedom Ball before. Sure, he had brought female companions to other balls and celebrations
where dates were appropriate, but never to anything held under his own roof. He hadn't really
thought it would be a big deal to bring Clara. But clearly he had forgotten how much gossip could
be stirred in a situation like this. Next thing he knew Remus would be back on his case about
formally courting the young Ravenclaw.

His face became noticeably sour. “I hadn't really thought about it.”

“Oh,” She said, realizing she had just opened a can of worms that Harry had not been aware of.
“I'm sorry, Harry. I've just been thinking and I thought you knew and that's why you
were being so quiet and—Ë®

“It's fine, Clara.” Harry interrupted. “I've just got a lot on my mind is all.”

“Oh?” She inquired softly.

He looked at her with a small smile. “I'll tell you later if the gossip mongers don't
get a hold of us first.”

She nodded in understanding. They reached the double doors and she turned to him one more time
before he nodded to the guard to let them in. “What do I tell them, you know, if they start asking
questions?”

Harry pressed his lips together in thought before carefully answering. “Tell them that
you're my date but we're not courting.”

“So the truth?”

“Yeah. The truth.” Harry confirmed.

And with that, Harry nodded at the doorman and the grand ballroom was revealed to them. It was
nearly unrecognizable with the crème and white banners adorning the walls, each of the
kingdom's crests sewn onto a separate cloth. There were large circular tables scattered on the
opposite end of the hall as well as a long rectangular table along the back wall for the royals and
their guests. Each was covered with a white tablecloth and gold candelabra. The remainder of the
ballroom was dedicated to a dance floor and stage for the hired performers. The chandelier even
looked brighter than he remembered.

Although he had seen the room two days ago when Clara and he had sorted out last minute
frivolities, it hadn't been close to looking like this. He was gob smacked at the
transformation.

“Prince Harry James Potter and Clara Ruanne Fowl.” The announcer spoke through a Sonorus
spell.

The ballroom was already crowded with people scattered in every direction and when their names
were announced Harry felt each one of their eyes shift to where he and Clara were still standing at
the top of the small staircase. He ignored this and led them forward into the lion's den.
Whispers followed them as they made their way to the back where Harry spotted Sirius and Remus,
deep in conversation.

Clara tugged on his arm slightly and they stepped to the side for a moment as she spoke.
“I'm going to go find my mother,” she said. “Tell her the truth before the local gossip finds
its way to her.”

“You didn't tell her we were going together?”

She shook her head. “I wanted it to be a surprise. She's wanted me to make a move on you for
ages and I want to make sure she doesn't have a panic attack and think we're engaged when
we're clearly not.”

Harry laughed and nodded. “Good call.”

“I'll meet up with you later.”

And then she did something he didn't expect; she slid her arm out of his and stood on her
tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He gave her an odd look as she pulled away. “What was that for?”

She smirked. “To give the gossip mongers something to talk about.”

He snorted. “Go on, then. Next thing you know, they'll think you're pregnant.”

Her eyes widened. “Do I *look* pregnant?”

He shook his head vigorously. “Of course not it was - I was just trying to make a joke.”

“Right. Of course.” She said, looking thoroughly relieved. “I'll just… I'll see you in a
few minutes.”

Harry nodded and watched her go. He couldn't help but admire her nice behind as she hastily
moved through the crowd to search for her mother. He was only human, after all. Smiling to himself,
he spun around on his heel and continued on his way to the back of the ballroom. Sirius and Remus
were still engrossed in conversation when he arrived and he had to clear his throat in order to get
their attention.

Remus looked a bit befuddled to see him standing there. “Oh Harry. We were just talking about
you.”

“Only good things, I trust.” Harry remarked jokingly.

Sirius and Remus shared a look and Harry's light demeanor faded slightly. “What?”

Sirius answered him in a somber tone. “Harry, we couldn't help but notice that you've
escorted young Miss Fowl to the festivities tonight.”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed.

“Is this an official outing for the two of you?” Remus asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh Gods, not this again. We're *just friends*.”

“We're aware of this Harry. We're just thinking about—Ë®

“What?” Harry interrupted. “My reputation or my well-being?”

“Well, both.” Remus answered.

“Both my reputation and well-being are perfectly intact, no thanks to your proficient
pestering.” Harry spat at the two of them.

“Harry we're just trying to help you.” Sirius said.

Harry sighed heavily. “I know. But that doesn't mean that you need to relay the Court's
message like you believe it's the right thing.”

“How do you know it's not what we—?” Harry raised an eyebrow and Sirius cut himself off. “I
know the Court's opinions are old-fashioned and strict but we're just trying to make it so
you don't find trouble with them in the future when you're king. Merlin knows they give me
a hard time because I'm not of royal blood. They can't wait to kick me off the throne.”

Harry frowned. He knew that Sirius wasn't well-liked by some of the members of the Court but
that never mattered to him. Sirius was a damned good king, no matter what his lineage.

“All eyes are going to be on you within the next year.” Remus said. “And they're going to be
looking at the flaws and flop-ups more than the triumphs. They'll use them against you.”

“We know that you're young and willing to give into the world of female companions, serious
and not. But tread careful because the eyes of the Court will always be watching.” Sirius
added.

“Then let them watch.” Harry responded. “I'm not going to let the Court decide who I can and
cannot have at my side. Now, I'm going to enjoy my night with my date and we're going to
have a lovely time.”

Sirius nodded, feeling pride well up inside of him. “Go on, my boy. Have at it.”

Harry nodded and set off to find Clara, eager to rebel against the rapidly disapproving opinions
of the Court.

“He's just like James.” Sirius relayed to Remus, a smile on his face.

“I know,” Remus responded with a frown. “That's what I'm afraid of.”

~*~

The next hour, Harry found most of his time spent on the dance floor, leading Clara in dances of
every sort. She seemed to be enjoying herself and for that Harry was glad. He was starting to
loosen up himself. But he still couldn't help but worry about Hermione. He hadn't seen her
yet and it was nearly time for the feast.

The current song, a slow medley played by a single performer on the lute, ended and Clara
removed her arms from his neck. “I think I'm going to get a drink. I'm parched!”

“I'll join you.” Harry said, feeling thirsty himself.

Together, they made their way to a refreshment table where Harry poured them both a glass of
water. He clinked his glass against hers and they both took a long glug of the refreshing
liquid.

“Hello darling.” The musky voice of Elizabeth Fowl spoke from beside Clara.

The younger girl turned to face her mother with a smile. “Hello mother.”

Elizabeth was dressed in a black silk gown with blue trimming down the middle. Embroidered on
the blue were intricate flowers that ran the length of the material. Her hair was drawn up into a
curly updo with sparkling pins places precariously throughout. She looked every bit the picture of
elegance.

“Are you enjoying your night?” She asked, looking over at Harry in turn.

He nodded along with Clara. “Wonderful.”

“Good.” She said, flashing a wide smile. “It won't be long before… before… Harry, what are
you looking at?”

Harry had allowed his eyes to drift behind Elizabeth for only a moment but that was all it took
to see who had just entered the ballroom. Elizabeth and Clara, puzzled at Harry's silence,
turned to see what he was staring at.

“Miss Hermione Jane Granger.” The announcer's voice boomed.

She was dressed in a white gown that shimmered gold as she descended the stairs. It was a stiff,
shining material for the bodice that slowly loosened into a flowing skirt just bushing the floor.
The sleeves were a clear white-gold material similar to the rest of the gown with an intricate
pattern stitched in gold. A silver belt was wrapped around her waist, slightly contrasting from the
rest of her dress. Her hair was half up, somewhat similar to Clara's but not quite, with a
shining silver headband wrapped around her head. She was also sporting a gold necklace that
sparkled under the light.

She looked beautiful.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

Without waiting for an answer, Harry brushed past the Fowls and made a beeline to where Hermione
had just recently entered. She saw him approach and he could have sworn he saw her expression turn
sad for a moment. But his eyes must have been playing tricks because when he reached her, she was
sporting a wide smile.

“Harry,” She greeted.

“Hermione,” He said, bowing slightly. He straightened himself out and held out a hand. “Would
you do me the honor of being your first dance?”

She nodded and took his hand as he led her to the dance floor. On the way, he passed Elizabeth
and Clara, who were sporting different looks of surprise. Clara was pleasantly so while Elizabeth
had her eyes narrowed in an almost angry manor. But Harry didn't pay them any mind. This was
the perfect opportunity to ask about her whereabouts after she left.

The music playing was another slow song so he wrapped his hands around her waist delicately
while she circled her arms around his neck. They began swaying to the music and Harry took the
opportunity to begin talking.

“What happened after you left two nights ago?”

Her brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

“Hermione, I haven't seen a wink of you for two days. You left my chambers before I woke.”
His voice softened. “I just want to make sure I didn't—Ë®

“You didn't do anything wrong.” She finished for him.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “Because it's not like you to avoid me.”

“I wasn't avoiding you.” She said quietly. “I just… had a lot on my mind.”

He furrowed his brow at the mirror of the comment he had made earlier. “Like what?”

She avoided his gaze. “Just things.”

“Hermione.” He said sternly. “What things?”

She looked back up into his eyes and smiled. “Nothing to worry yourself about.”

“But—Ë®

“Look, can you just drop it, Harry?” Hermione said harshly.

He recoiled at her change of tone but abided by her wishes. Whatever she was hiding it was clear
that she didn't want to talk about it. Even if he desperately wanted to know what was bothering
her, he knew he had to wait until she was ready to tell him. She would open up eventually. She
always did.

“So,” He said, changing the subject. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Well enough.” She answered. “I'm still standing, aren't I?”

“Yes but you've always been stronger than others when it came to hiding things. How much
make-up did you put on this time?”

She blushed. “Only a bit of paste under my eyes. But I should be better soon.”

“Why don't you just sleep with me?”

“I can't rely on you forever, Harry.” She said sadly.

“Who says?” Harry asked.

She met his eyes. “Society says. One day you're going to marry and she'll be the one
sharing your bed. There won't be room for me.”

“Hold on, I'm not getting married anytime soon.” He defended.

“That may be so,” She agreed. “But I need to get used to not being with you in that way.
Especially now.”

“What do you mean `especially now'?” Harry asked, thoroughly confused.

“Well you came to the ball with Clara, didn't you?” She asked.

“Yes,” He answered. “But what does that have to do with—?”

“What would she say if she knew that we slept in the same bed sometimes?” She asked, raising a
challenging eyebrow.

“Well, if I explained the situation to her…” He sighed. “I don't know. I don't really
care to find out.”

“Then it's settled.” Hermione said with finality in her tone. “Those days are behind us. We
can be free to do what we want and be with who we want.”

“But what if who we want is unattainable?” Harry asked, more to himself.

Hermione heard his quiet inquiry and spoke in a reassuring tone. “I'm sure Clara is far from
unattainable.”

“I'm not talking about Clara.” Harry said in an even tone..

Hermione looked at him curiously. “Then who are you talking about?”

Harry ignored the question and removed a hand from her waist to brush aside a strand of hair
that had come loose. Hermione felt her stomach tighten at the gesture and avoided his gaze once
more.

He began to speak in a soft whisper. “You look be—Ë®

“DINNER IS SERVED!” The loud, booming voice of one of the guards echoed throughout the room.

Both Harry and Hermione were broken from the trance they hadn't realized they had been a
part of and untangled themselves from one another. They walked to the back of the ballroom together
and separated when they arrived at their separate tables. Hermione was assigned to the table
closest to the back by the royals, seated among some of the higher class throughout the four
kingdoms. She saw a few familiar faces from Ravenclaw and Slytherin seated around her such as Luna
and Xenophilius Lovegood, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Padma Patil. The woman on her right
was a widow from the nobility of Gryffindor, Selena Wayne. The man on her left's head was
turned to the person next to him so she couldn't make out either of their faces. She was quite
disappointed that Ron was not with her. He was a few tables back with the majority of his family -
Molly's idea, no doubt.

Albus Dumbledore arose from his seat at the middle of the royal table. As the court consultant,
he was required to lead over every major event in the four kingdoms. Hermione thought it was a
silly idea to make a single man lead nearly every formal event that the kingdoms planned but it was
law.

“Welcome one and all to the third annual Freedom Ball!” A polite clapping resounded from the
audience and Dumbledore smiled. “I would like to thank King Sirius and Prince Harry for so kindly
lending the use of their grand ballroom for the festivities as well as the Fowl family from
Ravenclaw for assisting with the décor. A fabulous job, I must say. Well done!” More clapping
occurred, a bit louder than before.

When the noise died down, he continued. “On this day four years ago the Dark Lord Voldemort was
defeated by none other than Prince Harry.” A booming applause erupted. Dumbledore raised a hand to
calm down the crowd. “With Harry's bravery came a new hope - a hope that has kept our four
kingdoms safe these many years. This is a celebration to commemorate everyone who was involved in
the historic defeat that has truly shaped Hogwarts in more ways that we can imagine. Here's to
another year of prosperity and freedom!” The hall was silent, soaking in the words. Dumbledore
gazed across the crowd before continuing. “Now, I'm sure you are all famished from the
festivities thus far so, without further ado, let's tuck in.”

The crowd began to cheer just as the empty serving dishes on the tables filled themselves. A
mumble of wonder and appreciation sounded throughout the hall as people helped themselves to the
delicious food in front of them. Hermione reached for the potatoes first, her favorite dish at this
event. Just as her hand reached the bowl, another bumped into it from her left.

“Sorry.” A masculine voice said from her left.

“It's quite al - Cedric?” Hermione asked, her eyes widening. “Cedric Diggory?”

“Yeah,” Cedric said, shooting her a winning smile. “And you're Hermione Granger.”

“Sorry I - I didn't know it was you. How have you been?”

Six years ago during one of the many tournaments held throughout the four kingdoms, Cedric had
been the favorite participant, winning over the kingdoms with his dashing good looks and talents
with both a sword and his wand. Harry had just turned of age to enter and had made it past the
preliminaries to compete. At the end of the tournament, only Harry and Cedric remained, duking it
out in a sword- and wand-dueling round. For the first time in history, there was a draw. Both Harry
and Cedric bowed to each other after hours of battling, both too tired to continue.

A few minutes after shaking hands, Harry had touched the trophy for a victory portrait and
disappeared. It was later known that he had faced Voldemort for the first time that day and lived
to tell the tale when he reappeared hours later, beaten and out of breath. Cedric gave up the
shared title after hearing the news, claiming that a man who faced Voldemort and lived was worthy
of the glory.

“I've been alright. Just training to take my father's spot on the Council when he
retires this year.”

“Your father is retiring?” Hermione asked in surprise. Amos Diggory was one of the most highly
regarded members of the Council, serving the Hufflepuff kingdom for many faithful years.

Cedric nodded. “He's getting old, I'm afraid. Says he can't take the high stress it
requires to be a part of the Council.”

“It's a shame,” Hermione remarked. “He's a valuable asset there. One of the few who
isn't corrupt.”

Cedric chuckled. “I hope I can do him justice.”

“I'm sure you will.” Hermione said kindly.

“Thank you for your support milady.” Cedric said with one of his charming smiles. “For that,
I'll let you have the first helping of potatoes.”

Hermione chuckled. “Thank you, kind sir.”

She scooped some potatoes onto her plate and handed him the serving spoon when she finished. She
watched as he loaded his plate with two helpings of the delectable dish and smiled. He caught her
gaze and returned her expression.

As she helped herself to some meat and vegetables, she continued with their conversation. “So
are you and Cho still together?”

“No,” he answered, taking a bite of lamb. “We haven't been on good terms ever since she got
with Harry while I was away for training.”

Hermione frowned. “I'm sorry about that. I assure you that Harry—Ë®

He held up a hand. “Don't worry about it. Cho told me the entire story.”

“Oh.”

He continued with humor in his voice. “And when I found out she was lying, I used my pensive and
saw the whole thing.”

Hermione pursed her lips. She had never liked Cho. Harry had been sweet on her when they were
younger but after their brief fling when she was still together with Cedric, he saw what kind of a
woman she was. Hermione couldn't see what either guy saw in her. Sure she was pretty but
beneath that façade was a selfish, spoiled wench that didn't know how to treat others with
respect.

She bit back a response and instead went the sympathetic route. “I'm sorry.”

“S'alright.” He said. “It's not your fault.”

Their conversation drifted to easier topics as they caught up with each other's lives. He
told her about the goings-on in Hufflepuff and she informed him of her drab life in Gryffindor.
They continued talking throughout dinner and by the time they were done, the music had started back
up. Hermione hadn't noticed until Cedric mentioned the change.

“The music's playing again.” He said breezily.

“Oh,” She said absentmindedly. “So it is.”

He looked at her for a moment and held out a hand. “Dance with me?”

She smiled at the gesture. It wasn't often that a nice, good looking guy asked her onto the
dance floor. Well, other than Harry, that is. But he didn't matter right now, no matter how
much her mind begged to differ. So, with a slight nod, she took his hand and he led her to the
dance floor, unaware of the pair of narrowed emerald eyes following them.

Harry watched as they departed with a deep scowl on his face. He had been casually glancing at
them for a while, looking on as Hermione laughed and joked with him. He knew he shouldn't be
reacting like this - like Hermione said, he was with Clara. But he didn't want to be, as he so
desperately wanted to tell her. No matter how lovely Clara was or how nice she was to be around she
would never be Hermione. But she would never know that. She *wanted* him to be with her. She
was deliberately straying from his bed so that he could take a wife and not worry about her.

But he would always worry about her. He would always want to protect her. She was his
Hermione.

He shook himself of these thoughts as quickly as he could manage. It didn't do well to dwell
deep in his thoughts. He could easily lose track of himself. Turning to his right, he saw Clara
looking dreamily towards the dance floor. He was turning out to be a rotten date, glaring at
Hermione and Cedric and not paying any mind to her. Even if he felt only attraction to Clara, he
still owed her a nice night.

“Do you want to make another trip to the dance floor?” He asked, shaking her from her
reverie.

She smiled at him. “More than anything.”

He helped her out of her seat and led her to the swirling mess of dancing couples. The music was
more upbeat than the slow, romantic songs before dinner. He saw Hermione and Cedric dancing a few
feet to his right, their hands grasped tightly in the other's as they jumped and swirled about.
Harry looked over to Clara and tried to focus on her, twirling her into his chest and back out
again. But he couldn't help his wandering eyes.

A year ago, that was him. He was dancing with Hermione like that. It's how the Freedom Balls
usually went. He and Hermione would arrive alone and find their way to each other, dancing and
talking the night away. Ron always stole a few dances with her, but that was only natural. The
redhead would usually end up with some pretty Hufflepuff and get a good snog in before the night
ran out.

But now she was with someone else and that, more than anything, let him know that what Hermione
said was coming true. What they had been sharing all these years was coming to an end. He
didn't even know what exactly it was that they had but it was something wonderful - something
extraordinary. Something dangerously close to what others defined to be romance. But it was a
romance, in a way. It was their own innocent, beautiful, loving relationship that was too surreal
and too special to be defined. A romance highlighted by one stolen kiss on a rainy evening, nights
spent entangled in each other's arms while one battled night terrors, and a thousand silent
touches for reassurance, companionship, and comfort.

No matter how much he didn't want to say goodbye, he knew that he must. It was what she
wanted him to do. He could see that she would miss it, too. It was blatantly apparent. But she was
making all these efforts to rid them both of it so he would be happy. So he could get married.

He sent another fleeting glance her way as Clara rested her head on his chest. It was for the
best, he reminded himself. It was what she wanted.

With that in mind, he turned back to Clara and twisted her under his arm. She laughed in
response and he managed a smile in return. It became easier to relax as the song went on,
increasing both in pace and rhythm. He became so numb to his surroundings that he didn't sense
the pair of cold eyes on him.

~*~

She had been so *close*.

When she saw Clara and Harry walk arm in arm down the staircase, she was practically giddy with
delight. Her plan had worked out after all, despite her daughter's reluctance. The couple
seemed happy together as they danced and that brought her even more pleasure than she originally
felt. The crown was within their reach at last. All her planning was finally paying off.

And then *she* walked in the room.

Hermione Granger had stolen Harry's attention away from Clara the moment she entered the
room. She expected nothing less as she had seen them dance together at the Freedom Ball in years
previous but she had underestimated Harry's reaction to the Muggleborn witch. From that moment
on, Clara was not his first priority. He danced with Granger until dinner was served and all
throughout the meal, shot jealous glares at her and the Diggory boy. And now, on the dance floor,
while his arms were around Clara, his eyes were on Granger.

It was clear that there was something between them that she hadn't seen before. But she
wasn't about to give up. Her husband had left her and Clara with practically nothing. Only
after his will was read was it revealed that they would inherit his life savings after Clara was
married. Clara knew nothing about this, of course, but Elizabeth was sure that if she did she would
agree to participate wholeheartedly. But it was for the best that she was unaware. She didn't
want to put any pressure on her young daughter. After tonight, though, she may have to
reconsider.

One thing was for certain: She had to get rid of Hermione Granger. All she had to do was figure
out how.

~*~

**Harry:** http://disparue.org/gallery/6/merlin/1/101/images/merlin101_1787.jpg

**Clara:**
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9ipXv9sXY2c/So_4Ln-zsOI/AAAAAAAAACI/vzva7FU3Jsk/s1600-h/blue1.jpg
**** **Elizabeth:** http://www.christianstories.com/discountdressshop/images/872nox-black.jpg
(substitute white for blue)

**Hermione:** A combination of: http://disparue.org/gallery/6/merlin/3/301/images/merlin301_0985.jpg
&
http://www.wedding-des-moines.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/medieval-wedding-dress-pictures-3.jpg

-->



10. Love Not Me for Comely Grace
--------------------------------



**A/N: Hey all! Sorry I didn'****t post this** **last week but my clogged schedule
prevented** **me from doing so. Hopefully the** **chapter makes up for it. I went into it
somewhat blind so I'm quite surprised that I finished it in the first place.** **Thank you
all so much for your support of this story thus far! You guys rock my world :)**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 10:
Love Not Me for Comely Grace

The music drifted to a stop as the end of the ball drew near. One of the guards announced that
the fireworks would begin soon out on the terrace. It was tradition that the Freedom Ball ended
with the splendid display of lights. It had been Hermione's idea back when the first outlines
of the festivities were being planned. She had always loved watching fireworks explode into the
night sky when she was younger. It had been a favorite pastime for her and her parents before she
found out she was a witch and moved to Hogwarts. So when the announcement of a ball was first heard
around the kingdom, Hermione couldn't think of a better way to honor them in the celebration
and the Court had, for once, agreed with her.

*Take that Clara*, Hermione thought smugly to herself.

She allowed Cedric to escort her out the large glass doors that led to the terrace. Her arm was
carefully interlocked in the crevice of his elbow and she could feel many pairs of eyes upon them.
It wasn't often that Hermione let someone other than Harry or Ron escort her. She could
practically feel the air of gossip surrounding them as they came to a stop on the stone patio.

Many couples were already outside - the terrace was the perfect getaway from a stuffy ballroom,
after all. She spotted Harry and Clara a few feet to her right and avoided her gaze from them.
Cedric noticed her quick movement and looked at her questioningly.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine.” She lied unconvincingly.

Cedric turned in the direction of Harry and Clara and nodded in understanding. Or, what the
young Hufflepuff thought to be understanding. Of course he didn't fully understand. No one
did.

“I thought you had been a little distant tonight.”

She looked up at him guiltily. “I'm sorry Cedric, I just…” She trailed off.

“You're not the only one looking at them longingly, Hermione.” Cedric said knowingly.
“I've spotted at least a dozen young women looking at them and mentally replacing Clara with
themselves. But none share the same sadness as you.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Oh come on, I'm not daft.” Cedric said with amusement present in his soft tone. “I see the
way you look at him. I'd be a fool to think I could shift your attention from him.”

Hermione's face colored. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no need to apologize.” He said, reaching a hand over and tilting her head up to
look at him in the eyes. “But I do have one question.”

“Yes?” She asked as he removed his hand.

“Why have you spent the evening with me if your eyes are always on him?”

It was a fair question, Hermione admitted, and he was a nice enough man to where she felt he
deserved the truth, or at least part of it.

“He doesn't need me.” She said softly. “He has Clara now.”

Cedric furrowed his brow. “They're courting?”

“They're as good as.” Hermione answered bitterly. She looked at the couple menacingly but
her face softened as she let her angry façade drop. “He made his choice and I have to respect it.
Be happy for him.”

“Well that's stupid.”

Hermione snapped her neck back over to him. “I beg your pardon?”

“You're Hermione Granger - war veteran, Lady of Gryffindor, member of the Order, and
brightest witch of her age. Why aren't you fighting for him?”

“I used to.” She said. “Back when it was easy - when it was for our lives and I thought we stood
a chance. But now is different. He has his duties, his training. He's going to be king within a
year's time, for Merlin's sake! I'm not fit to be his queen. He deserves better than
the likes of me. And I think he's found it...”

“It sounds like you've given up all hope.” Cedric said with a frown.

Hermione shrugged. “I suppose I have.”

Cedric sighed, knowing that there was little to say to sway the lady's mind. He looked over
to the couple at their right, observing as they laughed together. Harry must have sensed his gaze
and looked at him, his face contorting into a cold sneer. Cedric pressed his lips together and
turned back to Hermione, who had followed his line of sight to the happy couple. Her eyes were
filled with a deep sadness that made his heart sink.

“You shouldn't.”

She locked eyes with him once more. “I shouldn't what?”

“Give up hope.”

“Cedric—Ë®

“No, listen.” He cut her off. “If Harry's multiple glares pointed at me tonight are any
indication, I think the two of you still stand a fighting chance.”

“He's just being protective.” She said, easily brushing aside the comment.

“I suppose you do know him best.” He said with a sigh. He then turned away from her and said
just loud enough for her to hear, “But I wouldn't glare at someone that often if I was just
trying to be protective.”

Hermione shifted her eyes and turned to look at the night sky. Though Cedric's words were
reassuring and lifted her mood slightly, it still didn't change the fact that she and Harry had
just let go of part of their relationship. The part, she admitted sadly to herself, that had been
keeping them so close for all these years. And without that closeness it was only a matter of time
before they drifted apart for good.

She glued her eyes to the sky, blinking back her tears, as she let her thoughts dwell on a
happier time. A time when her and Harry were drawn together with their many secret, blissful
moments, that gave her the hope that was now shrinking inside her aching heart.

*“And now let us all depart for the firework celebration!” The announcer's voice boomed
throughout the hall.*

*Hermione disentangled herself f**rom Ron, the two of them still out of breath*
*f**rom the fast beat of the song. Sh**e let him lead her to the terrace where the
whole of the ballroom was gathering.* *She looked around for Harry but he was nowhere in her
sight. Last time she had seen him, he had been chatting up some high aristocrat at the refreshment
table.*

*Suddenly she and Ron came to a halt and he turned to look at her with a mischievous grin.
“I'm going to go mingle with the single ladies. Care to join me? I'm sure we can find you
an eligible bachelor willing to chat you up.”*

*She laughed and shook her head in polite refusal. “No thank you, Ron. Go on and corrupt the
young female hierarchy of Hogwarts.”*

*“With pleasure.”*

*And with a b**ow, he departed into the gathering* *cr**owd. She sighed
heavily. She was all alone now, though she didn't really mind much. She liked her solitude. But
with Harry's obvious lack of presence, she was beginning to worry slightly. It would be
impossible to spot him in the large crowd and moving would double her chances of never finding
him.*

*She moved over to the side of the terrace where a stone railing prevented everyone from
falling the hundred feet or so to the forest below. Though the ballroom was on the ground floor,
the castle was built on a hill that had a very steep drop in the back. This spot would provide her
with a wider view of the crowd without having to move an inch and risk getting lost in the sea of
bodies. She was also drawn to this spot by the beautiful statue perched in the corner of the
railing, one of two decorating each* *north* *side of the terrace. She had always loved
coming out here and hiding in the shadows of one of the statues to watch the sta**rs without
risk of being seen.* *She had spent an increased amount of time here since the death* *of
her parents nearly two years* *ago. It was one of the few places in the castle where she could
be alone.* *It also had a spectacular view of the stars.*

*She stepped onto the raised statue and looked around the crowd for a mop of ebony hair. She
saw a few candidates, but none were wearing the golden headband that signified his royalty. The
longer she stayed perched upon the statue, the more disapproving stares she got from the people
surrounding her. It was not ladylike to be elevated in such a manor. But their negative judgment
had no effect on her as she continued to search for her friend.*

*Many minutes passed without a sign of him. Her worry had increased tenfold since she first
noticed his absence* *and her eyes scanned the crowd faster than ever before. The fireworks
were bound to start any moment and the main reason for their creation was nowhere to be found.
Hermione was close to shouting his name when a hand on her leg caused her to stiffen. She snapped
her neck down to the perpetrator and let out a sigh of relief.*

*“Harry.”*

*“Hello Hermione!”*

*She slid gracefully down the statue and stood facing him with a relived smile. “I've been
worried sick about you. Where have you been?”*

*“Oh,* around*,” Harry said offhandedly before he slapped a silly grin on his
face.*

*She narrowed her eyes as she studied him. His posture was slumped and he was slightly swaying
from side-to-side. Her eyes flickered to his to see that they were sl**ightly glazed and
out-of-focus.* *She gasped.*

*“Harry are you* drunk*?”*

*“Of course not!” He said, sounding offended. Hermione almost felt guilty until he broke out
in a fit of giggles.*

*“You are!” She said, her anger growing.*

*“Oh lighten up `Mione, I only had a few drinks.”*

*“How many is `a few'?”*

*He held out his hand as he counted using his fingers. He stopped after folding down his ring
finger. “I lost count after eight.”*

*“Eight of what?” She asked, her eyes narrowed.*

*He shrugged. “Firewhisky, butterbeer, this really bright green drink with bubbles coming out
of it…”*

*“Merlin's pants, Harry!” Hermione said, her angry tone turning to one of concern. “Mixing
drinks is very dangerous!”*

*“Oh poppycock!” He said, waving a hand* *in protest. His gesture was ineffective,
though, as the fast movement caused him to lose balance.*

*Hermione caught him by his arms and helped him back up into a standing position. He started
giggling uncontrollably and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle a bit to herself. He looked up
into her eyes and* *s**he could see something shining in them.*

*“He's dead, Hermione.” He said through his laughter. “Really, truly dead!”*

*“Yes, Harry.” She answered, smiling. “You did it. You stopped him.”*

*He frowned. “But you - you and Ron helped.”*

*She nodded. “But it wasn't us who faced him.”*

*“You were there.” He said, cocking his head to the side. “He had you tied* *to a
tree…”*

*“Yes.” She confirmed, her eyes darkening at the memory. “But you saved me. You deflected his
killing curse and freed the entire wizarding world.”*

*“But he still hurt you.” He moved a hand to her side where Voldemort had performed a dark
curse, cutting a deep gash in her side. She flinched at the memory but put on a brave face when she
saw Harry's happy expression fading.*

*“I'm okay now, I promise.” She said, placing a hand over his and sm**iling
softly**.*

*He pursed his lips and met her eyes. He cocked his head to the side and nodded. “You're
okay… you're here…”*

*She nodded. “Yeah, I'm here.”*

*He raised a* *hand to her cheek and cupped it**. She inhaled sharply through her
nose at the contact. His eyes never left her as he continued in a soft whisper. “I thought I might
lose you.”*

*“I'll never leave you, Harry.” She responded in a similar tone. “Never.”*

*He grinned. “My `Mione. Never gonna leave.”*

*She shook her head and repeated. “Never.”*

*His eye**s darkened and she tightened her* *grip on his hand that was*
*resting* *on her waist. He dropped it to the side, taking her hand with it as she
interlocked their fingers. If the shadows weren't covering them people might* *have*
*start**ed to* *talk. They were in a similar stance that two lovers would be in. She
squeezed his hand, her heart pounding as this sudden realization came to her mind. They should
stop.*

*She pulled away from him and* *pressed herself against the statue. “We should get back
to the party. You don't want to miss the fireworks, do you?”*

*He shook his head.*

*“Good, then let's—Ë®*

*“No.” He said, stopping her in her tracks. “I don't want to go.”*

*“Harry—Ë®*

*“I want to stay here with my `Mione.” He said firmly, his glazed eyes flickering with an
unreadable emotion.*

*“Come on, do you really want to miss the closing to t**he first Freedom Ball? It's
in your honor, after all.” She reminded him gently.*

*“I don't care.” He said. “I have to tell you something.”*

*She was taken aback with a new change in subject. “What?” she asked. “What do you need to
tell* *me?**”*

*“You look beautiful tonight.” He said heavily.*

*Her cheeks colored as she whispered,* *“Thank you.”*

*He took a step closer* *but* *she* *was prevented from leaning away by the
statue behind her. He stopped when their knees touched. He**r* *body shuttered at the
contact and she couldn't h**elp but let her mind wander to that night not so long ago when
they were this close. But they were trading on dangerous waters.*

*“Harry we—Ë®*

*He placed a finger on her lips and silenced her.* *“Shh. I want to try
something.”*

*She shook her head. “Harry you can't—Ë®*

*He silenced her again, but this time with his lips crashing on hers. Her body melted at the
contact and she felt him press her back to the statue as he hands went to either side of her waist.
She lifted her arms to push him aw**ay, knowing that this was* *wrong -s**o
incredibly wrong. But as his tongue traced the hem of her lips, all conscious thoughts left her as
she wrapped both arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer to her.* *The dull sound of
explosions sounded in the background. The fireworks had begun. Thinking fast,* *s**he
turned on her heel and angled them away from the statue so her bac**k was free and let him
push her* *back behind the stone an**d even further into the shadows.*

*She clung to him as feelings she didn't know she had washed through her like a tidal wave
on a dry beach. She didn't remember much from when they first kissed in her room that year and
so ago but she imagined it must have been something like this. Something desperate, needy, and
passionate that filled all the emotionless holes that had been punched in her heart. But back then
it was a motion of comfort* *and thanks. This was something more.*

*She felt his arms wrap around her as he clung to her and deepened the kiss. Their tongues
collided together and she moaned at the contact as she tasted the mixture of alcohol in his
breath.*

*Alcohol. He was still drunk.*

*She unwound her hands from his shoulders and pushed him back**. He collided with the
corner of the railing and let out a breathy* *“oof”* *at the contact. He looked up at her
through his dark bangs and she saw the sad look in his eyes. But sadness soon evaporated and he
pushed himself away from the stone, a look of want fading into his features. He rushed her before
she could stop him and their lips collided once more. She pulled away before she could let herself
give in* *again* *but his lips found a new target: her neck. She let out a guttural noise
as she felt him press wet, sloppy kisses around the sensitive parts of her skin. It took all she
had to push him away.*

*“No.” She said when he was a good two feet away from her.*

*A wide frown spread on his lips. “But don't you love me?”*

*“Of course I love you - no, not like that, get that grin off your face! - But you're
drunk. You're not even going to remember this happened tomorrow.”*

*“I will.” He said defensively.*

*“Not with the amount of alcohol you consumed tonight.” She said matter-of-factly.*

*He pursed his lips in thought and brightened as if he had been struck with a brilliant idea.
“I'll* make *myself remember!”*

*She shook her head. “You can't do that, Harry.”*

*“No…” He said, trailing off. He then looked back up at her and said slyly. “But* you
*can!”*

*“What?” She asked, aghast. “Harry you're letting the alcohol get to your head.”*

*“No!” He said in defense. “You can tell me and I can put the memory in a pensieve so I'll
never forget!”*

*It wasn't a bad idea, Hermione* *admitted to herself. But it was* *the
firewhisky, butterbeer, and mysterious bubbly green drink talking.* *He wouldn't* *be
saying any of this if he were* *sober. “Harry what makes you think you're going to*
want *to remember this in the morning?”*

*“Why wouldn't I?” He asked, puzzled.*

*“Harry it's you and me. We're best friends, not snogging buddies.”*

*“We* can *be.” He said suggestively, taking a few steps toward her.*

*“Stop.” She said, putting a hand in front of her. He froze. “Best friends don't
snog.”*

*“You snogged me before!” He said, growing agitated.*

*“And you pushed me away.” She countered, remembering that bit very clearly.*

*“Because you were emotionally vul — vulner — damaged!”*

*“You're drunk!” She said in exasperation. “What makes now so different than then? We can
just forget about it and pretend it never happened, exactly like before. Which shouldn't be a
problem because all you'll remember tomorrow is mixing too many alcoholic beverages as you
spend the morning vomiting.”*

*He flinched as though she had hit him but she* *made no move to take back what she*
*said. It was the truth and the truth hurts.*

*“This time is different.” He mumbled to* *himself as he walked towards her**. He
s**tumbled as he t**urned to avoid colliding into her* *and emerge**d* *on
the other side of the statue. But not before continuing his mumblings. It was a slur of incoherent
words* *that she could barely make out. B**ut she did* *catch* *two* *of
them**: “…wanted it…”*

*She turned to question him to find that he was already pushing his way into the crowd. They
were too enamored at the fireworks display to pay any mind to the tipsy prince. Hermione's gaze
followed him until she could no longer make out his bright Gryffindor colors. It was in that moment
that she started thinking about what had just transpired.*

*He kissed her - and she let him.*

*It was the beginning of the end.*

Her mind flitted back into reality just as the first firework exploded into the air. She sniffed
and raised her free hand to wipe at her moist cheeks. That was the moment that had changed
everything between her and Harry. He hadn't remembered a thing in the morning, of course. He
went about his daily life as if nothing had happened. But she didn't forget. In fact, the
incident stayed burned into her mind for so long that she couldn't help but come to a
devastating conclusion: She was in love with Harry.

Cedric unhooked her arm from his and she looked over at him, her hand still wiping away the
stray tears. He smiled at her and grasped her hand in his in a more comforting gesture. She smiled
at him as she brushed the last few tears away from her face. Feeling a strong tiredness wash over
her, she leaned her head on his shoulder, trying to stay focused on the display in the sky. For a
moment she forgot all about Harry. But then, almost as if life itself was mocking her, a firework
exploded in the shape of a heart and she felt her resolve break once more.

~*~

After the display, she walked Cedric to the entrance hall and bid him goodbye with a light kiss
on his cheek. He responded with a close embrace and whispered in her ear, “Never give up hope.”

She pulled away and put on a brave face, responding softly. “I'll try.”

Her answer seemed to please him and he gave her one last squeeze before departing for his
carriage. Hermione turned around with a smile on her face, thankful that she had spent the night
with someone who cared. And if she wasn't mistaken, it seemed as though she had just gained a
new friend.

She made her way through the throng of departing guests, smiling politely at the ones who caught
her eye. Though she would have normally stayed behind and chatted with some of the visiting royals,
tonight she simply wanted to go up to her chambers and attempt to get some sleep. When she emerged
into the clear just before the stairs, she quickened her pace. Ascending the steps at two at a
time, she practically ran the path to her tower.

When she reached her floor she steadied her pace, not wanting to trip over something in her
heels. She walked the small distance to her chambers with her head held high. She wouldn't
allow herself to break down. Not yet.

As she rounded the corner she was nearly knocked over by someone waiting outside her door, their
arms crossed patiently. She balanced herself by placing a hand on the wall next to her. The person
looked over at her as she placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart.

“You scared the living daylight out of me!” She hissed.

“Sorry.” The low baritone answered.

She removed her hands from both the wall and her chest to brush off invisible dust from her
dress. “What can I help you with, Ron?”

He looked at her evenly. “I saw you earlier.”

“Did you?” She asked. “Well you didn't say hello.”

He didn't laugh. “I saw you on the terrace earlier.”

“What? With Cedric?” She asked, going into full-on defensive mode. “Well, that's none of
your—Ë®

“Hermione I know you two aren't courting.” He cut in, making her stop. “I saw you
*crying* on the terrace.”

“Oh.” She said, her stomach clenching nervously.

“I'm not going to pretend I don't know why.” He said. “We've done that dance too
many times before.”

She hung her head. “I know.”

“Why don't you tell him, Hermione? Merlin knows it would save us from a lot of unneeded
problems.”

“I can't.” She said softly. “He has Clara now. There's no point.”

“No point?” He asked. “Hermione, you've got every reason to!”

“He's not mine, Ron! I can't tell him just when he seems to be settling down! I waited
too long, I get it, but it's over now! There's no use denying it!”

“Hermione…”

“And don't tell me he deserves to know because, frankly, he's better off not. It would
only make him feel guilty and that's the last thing he needs on his plate right now. I
don't want him to feel obligated to do anything concerning me. I've told you this
before.”

“I know you have.” He said. “But you were *in tears* and in the arms of another man.
Harry's bound to ask questions if he saw you together. Or, worse, he could hear from someone
else who did and bother you about it then. Either way, you're going to have to address that it
happened.”

“I'll just lie, then.” She said. “He won't know the difference.”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“No.” She answered honestly. “But I can get him to forget about it. Question him about Clara or
something.”

“Hermione—Ë®

“Ron, stop it!” She interjected, close to tears. “He can never know.”

Ron sighed. “I just don't think it's right, keeping this from him.”

She nodded. “I know. But it h-has to be done.”

Her voice cracked on the last phrase as the first set of tears began to fall. She wiped at them
furiously and Ron's face softened. He watched as her cool exterior broke and the tears began
pouring from her heavy eyes. Soon, her hands weren't enough to keep them at bay and she gave
up, letting the sobs wrack her body. Ron reached for his friend and pulled her into a tight
embrace. He felt her shake in his arms and tried comforting her by rubbing a hand down her
back.

“I love him so much.” She whispered through her tears. “And I made him go away.”

“Oh Herms, you can never drive him away.” Ron said, squeezing her reassuringly.

“I already have.” She said.

After a few minutes, her sobs began to fade. She inched out of Ron's embrace and smiled at
him. He looked at her sadly and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Get some rest, yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Thank you, Ron.”

“Anytime, Herms.”

He stepped out of her doorway to let her pass. When the door shut behind her he turned around
and looked out at the empty hallway. Letting his eyes roam the perimeter once, he sighed and called
out.

“Come out, Harry.”

After a moment's hesitation he saw the prince appear in the hall, pulling off his
invisibility cloak with eyes filled with unshed tears.

-->



11. Perspective
---------------



**A/N: Okay I'm not entirely late so don't get your panties in a twist. I was a bit
tied up yesterday and had to grind this chapter out from scratch, all the while being incredibly
distracted by the internet and other tasks. But it's done now and that's all that
matters!** **I hope you won't be mad at me for too long.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, blah blah blah.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 11: Perspective



There are moments in a person's life that make them truly look at themselves, into their
very souls, and literally rip apart their own insides at the scene before them. Moments like these
included seeing someone murdered, looking at what they truly desire in the Mirror of Erised, and
finding out a great truth that had been previously hidden from their eyes.

Harry Potter was having one of these moments.

His eyes were filled to the brim with unshed tears and his stomach felt like it was about to
spontaneously combust. He stood very still as his invisibility cloak slid off of his shoulders and
looked at the spot where Hermione had just been, crying her eyes out because of him.

*Because of him.*

Ron looked at his friend and pressed his lips together. Harry stood before him as a broken man,
no longer in control of his own emotions or self. Any shadow of his old persona was vacant from his
features. In all truth, he looked as though he had just received the Dementor's kiss. The sight
filled Ron with a mixture of great sadness, anger, and hopelessness.

After a few moments of heavy silence, Harry's eyes flickered to his red-haired friend and
opened his mouth. It was dry and his voice sounded as though he had just swallowed a pint of sand.
“How did you know?”

Ron looked into his lifeless green eyes and answered simply. “Your boots peeked out for a second
while Hermione was crying into my shoulder.”

Harry looked down and avoided his gaze.

“You really fucked her up, do you know that?”

Harry's neck snapped up at Ron's colorful language. Sure, Ron swore more than any other
monarch he knew but the *way* he said it, like he was spitting at his feet, made Harry feel
like he was scum. Worse than scum, even. No one else in the castle, the *kingdom*, had the
guts to speak to him like that, except maybe Hermione when she was angry enough. And usually no
one, not even his closest friends, did unless he had done something horrible - something
unforgivable that would take a miracle to redeem.

Like breaking Hermione's heart.

A patch of tears escaped from Harry's eyes as what was left of his inner walls began to
break. He spoke through them with a grainy voice. “I know.”

“Then. Do. Something. About. It.” Ron said, annunciating every word so that they dug into
Harry's chest like knives. “And don't go around making excuses like you always do. You love
her; it's always been her, even when we were together.”

“Ron—Ë®

“SHUT UP!”

The pure power of his voice was enough to throw Harry back against the wall. Only by the sheer
will of his rapidly waning mind did he stay level-footed. Harry silenced himself, knowing that if
he muttered a single syllable, it could be the last thing he would remember until morning.

“You always told me that Hermione was special and that she needed to be protected.” Ron began,
his voice lowered significantly. “And I did that. I kept her away from you and the darkness that
Voldemort brought. She stayed in my home for nearly a year while you were off hunting Horcruxes,
nearly a walking corpse because she was worried so much. But then something changed and we
weren't just friends anymore. We… we became lovers.”

Harry was gob smacked. He had known that Ron and Hermione had been together briefly while he
began to hunt Horcruxes. Hell, he had pushed the two of them together so that they would be safe.
He had gotten as far away from them as he could before finally relenting and coming to terms with
the fact that he needed them both with him. But never in his wildest dreams did he think that in
his brief absence they had…

Oh gods.

“If you're trying to make me feel worse—Ë®

“I'm telling you the goddamned *truth* for once.” Ron interrupted viciously. “Hermione
made me swear that I wouldn't but now that you know more than you should it's only a matter
of time before you know everything else. I'm just… I'm trying to make you understand.”

“By telling me that you and Hermione slept together when I was in love with her?” Harry said,
his voice rising in anger.

“Am.” Ron said flippantly.

Harry stared at his friend with narrowed eyes. “What?”

“You're still in love with her you tosspot, and there's no use in denying it.” Ron said,
his face becoming hard with unreadable emotions. “Now can I finish talking or are you going to keep
interrupting?”

“Just one question.” Harry said. Ron nodded for him to continue. “What am I going to gain from
all this?”

“Perspective.” Ron said simply. He then walked over to him and bent down to pick up the
discarded invisibility cloak. “Now come on. We'd best be sitting down for this.”

Harry let Ron lead him all the way down to the library. When they arrived, he stopped in front
of a large bookcase and pulled a few books from the shelf. “Now I know it's one of the tiny
ones… aha!”

He yanked a small book with a green spine and brown engravings. With Ron's urgency, Harry
expected the book to fly off the shelf. He was proved wrong when it simply folded down like he had
just pulled a lever

“What—Ë® Harry began but was cut short by the bookcase being pushed inwards by an invisible
force. It stopped a foot or so deep and slid to the left, revealing a hidden stone staircase that
spiraled upwards. He looked at it with wide eyes.

Ron noticed Harry's sudden fascination with the hidden passage and grabbed his forearm
firmly. Muttering a soft *Lumos* to light the way, he led the dazed prince up the steps and
into the foreboding darkness. After a significant climb, there was an opening in the ceiling big
enough for three brawny men to slide through. Ron eased himself up and onto what seemed to be a
landing of some sort and helped Harry gain entry as well. It was pitch black but that soon changed
when Ron flicked his wand and the light at the tip was distributed into lamps and candles that were
dispersed randomly across the room.

It was clear they were in one of the many towers of Gryffindor castle. The floor was made of old
wood but was not at the point of creaking and there was an ornate scarlet and gold rug that covered
most of it. Three comfortable chairs faced each other in a half-circle on the left side of the
room, each the same shade as the rug but with distinct gold patterns sewn onto them. The three
windows that circled the tower were covered by velvet hangings, keeping the moonlight hidden from
their sight. On the right side of the room was a small bookcase that barely reached to Harry's
knees. On top of it were miniature paintings that Harry recognized from when the war had ended, one
of his, Ron's, and Hermione's, profiles respectively, and one of the three of them
together, smiling and waving enthusiastically.

Harry circled the room in a good minute, taking all of it in. It was small, yes, but very
comforting and almost home-like. Someone had made a refuge of this hidden tower - a place even
Harry himself had never ventured in his lifetime here. It made him slightly sad that he didn't
know of this particular secret the castle had to offer, mostly because it was so beautiful.

Harry turned to Ron and asked in wonder. “Whose is this place?”

“That's another thing you need to understand.” Ron said, gesturing to one of the chairs.

Harry walked over and looked at the chair and back at Ron. The redhead motioned at the chair
meaningfully and Harry's gaze flickered back to it, getting down on his knees. It was then that
he began taking in the details of what he first thought was a normal, comfy-looking seat. The
golden stitching on it was not only ornate but incredibly detailed. It had pictures of books,
flowers, potions, and other beautiful patterns stitched into the plush material. But the thing that
struck him was the name that was stitched on the inside of the chair's left arm.

*Hermione**.*

He looked back at Ron in shock. “It's Hermione's?”

“Not quite.” Ron said. He circled around and tilted the chair across from him so that he could
see the stitching on the inside of its left arm. It read: *Ronald*. But before Harry could say
anything, Ron moved to the chair that was in the middle of these two and Harry's eyes followed
him. He moved the chair slightly to the right and showed Harry the final name engraved on the
chairs.

His own.

There, engraved in the exact same gold thread, was *Harry*.

He looked at Ron with shining eyes. He spoke in an even tone, though there was a fair share of
emotion interlaced within it. “This was supposed to be your coronation present.”

“My… my coronation present?”

Ron nodded and walked over to the chair that bore his name, sitting on it gingerly. Harry
followed his lead and walked over to his own chair, taking a moment to admire the stitching of
swords, lightning, and dragons before sitting down. Ron was looking at him pointedly and it took
all the strength Harry had to not look away. He had already avoiding his gaze enough. It was time
to face his fate and listen to what Ron had to say.

“It was Hermione's idea.” He began. “This used to be her haven after the war when she found
it during one of her all-nighters in the library. She would come here and read or just sit and look
down at the kingdom as it was rebuilt, wanting solitude. She only told me about it because she
thought you had too much on your plate to be bothered with such mundane things as this.”

Harry bit his tongue, wanting to rebuke that statement. He always had time for Hermione.

Ron continued, not noticing Harry's discomfort. “Then one day about two years ago she came
to me with the idea to turn this place into a room for just the three of us. A place we could meet
and be together after you were made king. She thought that with all your new duties you would find
little alone time, not to mention any time to spend with us. So she came up with the idea to create
this tower so that we could be together, just us, no disturbances.”

“Wow.” Harry said, flabbergasted. “But… why are you showing it to me now? I don't get
crowned for another few months. It sort of ruins the surprise, doesn't it?”

Ron shrugged. “After tonight, I doubt that Hermione will ever get the courage to show it to you.
She has it in her mind that you don't need her anymore.”

“That's not true!” Harry refuted.

“Well you haven't done much to prove that, have you?” Ron asked in a mocking tone.

Harry frowned. “If you're talking about Clara—Ë®

“It's not just about Clara, Harry.” Ron said hotly. “Hermione has been fighting for you
longer than you realize and you've taken her for granted. As soon as the war was over you
simply stopped caring enough to realize that. There was a time where you two were inseparable but
then something broke you apart. Hermione stopped trying after that but never gave up hope.
She's too damn stubborn for that, even if it caused her pain. And now, years later, Clara is
just the small push Hermione needed to stop hoping that you would come around.”

Harry's face was blank, devoid of all emotion. Not because he wasn't feeling anything,
but because he was feeling too much, like a color scheme - when all the colors are intermixed with
each other they become white, creating the illusion of something blank. The same could be said for
Harry's state of mind. Inside he was feeling a mixture of emotions consisting of bad, good, and
others that cannot be defined by words. Outside, his expression was blank as all the emotions
flooded through him.

“Don't you get it, Harry?” Ron said, taking his silence as indifference. “You ripped the
last bit of hope she had into shreds.”

“I get it.” Harry snapped. “I just… I can't… Merlin, I love her. I love her *so much*.”
He paused. “But that's the problem. It made her a target back in the war so I asked you to keep
her safe and away from me. And after that, when it was all over, she seemed so broken and damaged
from when Riddle got his slimy claws into her. So I stopped trying to place myself next to her,
knowing that she was better off without me, anyway. Safe. I never stopped caring but trying to show
her that just seemed too dangerous.” He sighed. “I know I made a mistake but back then, the last
thing I wanted to do was burden her with the responsibilities of queen.”

“You… you wanted her to be your queen?” Ron asked, bewildered.

“Of course I did - *do* - I mean, I don't know!” Harry threw up his hands in
frustration.

“Why the bloody hell didn't you *say* something?”

“I wanted to, more than anything.” Harry admitted. “But I just couldn't. I thought I was
protecting her.”

“Protecting her,” scoffed Ron. “That girl would give her life for you if she had the choice.
Even… even when we were together those few weeks it was always you and I knew that. We both knew
that. But we were all each other had. I even made the mistake of falling for her after a while.” He
laughed to himself. “But as soon as you came back, you were all she could talk about. It was a
brief fancy but it was still there. I pity any guy who has tried to be with her since then. No one
can compare to you in her eyes.”

Harry felt tears well up once more and bowed his head. Hermione had been his all this time, even
after he had given up and practically forced her to move on. She never had. And now he had just
thrown any hope that remained in her because of his stupid decision to listen to her - to accept
*her* push to move on. How could he have been so naïve?

The nights they had been spending together - how could he have not seen it? She needed him, no
matter how much she wanted him to think otherwise. Because, the truth of the matter was, he needed
her, too. They needed each other. It was pointless to argue otherwise. No Ravenclaw Lady or
anything else was going to get in the way of that.

He looked back up at Ron, whose gaze had never left him. He spoke roughly. “I'm going to win
her back, Ron.”

Ron continued to stare at him with a blank expression. “For real this time? No games or
chivalry?”

“Chivalry be damned.” Harry cursed.

~*~

After talking for the better part of an hour, the two wizards decided to call it a night. They
exited the secret passageway together and walked to their respective chambers, both in a better
mood than when they had entered. Harry especially had a wide grin plastered on his face.

*Tomorrow*, he thought, *tomorrow is* *going to change everything.*

The figure in the shadows had to agree with the young prince's thoughts, but for a much
different reason. Quietly, Elizabeth sniggered to herself and began to clean up her books that she
found during the time that Harry and Ron had disappeared.

When she stumbled upon Ron and Hermione embracing outside Hermione's chambers, she thought
she finally had luck on her side. Unfortunately, as the rest of the scene unfolded in front of her
eyes, she found that the situation was worse than she originally thought. The Prince and the
Muggleborn were in love and if she didn't do something soon, her plans would be foiled. She had
thought she would have another few days, at least, to come up with a proper way to dispose of the
Granger girl. But now it was clear that she had to think fast.

She followed Harry and Ron to the library but stopped short when she realized that she had a
vast amount of resources right in front of her eyes. Leaving the two boys to converse for the next
few hours, she set about researching. By the time she heard them making their way out of the
library, she had come up with an ingenious plan, if she did say so herself.

As the night progressed into early morning, Elizabeth began initiating her plan. If she did this
right, Granger would be gone by that evening. The thought made the Ravenclaw shiver with
delight.

And, with her stride as determined as her mindset, she entered Harry's chambers.

~*~

Hermione woke up to a knocking on her door. She rolled over onto her back and groaned. She had
barely slept a wink, though it wasn't a big surprise. Another nightmare had plagued her that
night. It wasn't a memory, this time, but a scene that could only reside in her deepest fears:
Harry and Clara's wedding.

She had woken up in a fit of tears and hadn't been able to sleep soundly since, maybe ten
minutes every three hours. She supposed she should get used to it. Without Harry, she would rarely
sleep at all. A selfish part of her wanted to run to his chambers and take back everything she
said. But the reasonable, less rash, part of herself reminded her that it was for Harry's own
good. She had to get used to not relying on him for everything.

She had to get used to being in love with him when really, she stood no chance.

The knocking continued and this time and Hermione was awake enough to subconsciously count the
knocks. Three.

Harry was making it increasingly difficult to live without him.

Sighing, she threw off her covers and grabbed a lace wrap to throw over her chemise. She padded
slowly over to her door and opened it. He greeted her with his hands clutched behind his back and a
winning smile. She looked at him tiredly, wondering what had him so peppy this morning.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Of course.” She said, opening the door wider to let him inside.

When she shut the door behind him, he was already looking at her canopy, which had sheets and
blankets thrown all over the place. He turned back to her, his face set in a frown. “Rough
night?”

She shrugged and crossed her arms across her chest. “What do you want?”

“I've just… well, I've been thinking.” He started, fiddling with his hands, something he
only did when he was incredibly nervous. “I don't want you to have nightmares.”

She sighed, untangling her arms and letting them dangle helplessly at her side. “I told you that
I can't ask that of you anymore.”

“Yes,” He agreed. “But what if I'm asking it of you?”

Her brow furrowed with sudden confusion. “Pardon?”

He took a step forward. “Hermione I can't stand to see you like this, making sacrifices you
don't need to make. Let me help you.”

“No.” Hermione said. “Merlin, Harry, I already explained to you why we couldn't be like that
anymore.”

“That you did.” He said, nodding. “You also said that I am free to do what I want with who I
want.”

“That's not what I m—Ë®

“Then I told you that the person I desired is unattainable.” He took a step forward. “And I
never told you who it was.”

Hermione remembered that moment vividly. She had asked who was on his mind after he denied that
it was Clara. He ignored her and began to say something else. Something that flared up the little
hope she had left in her chest. But then the announcement for dinner had been made and the moment
was lost. For a second, she had thought he was going to say that she looked beautiful, the same
compliment he paid her before their last kiss.

Her hopes had been permanently shattered after Harry stayed glued to Clara's side the rest
of the evening.

“No.” She said shakily. “You didn't.”

He inhaled a deep breath before continuing. “Hermione I've been keeping a secret from you
for quite some time now.”

“Oh?” Hermione said, her heartbeat increasing significantly.

He nodded. “On the night of the first Freedom Ball, I was drunk. *Really* drunk. The next
morning I told you the entire night was a blur and that I couldn't remember a thing.” He
paused, collecting his thoughts. “Well, I lied. I remember everything from that night.”

“Everything?” Hermione whispered.

“Everything.” He confirmed.

Her face paled and reddened all in the space of ten seconds. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I felt you deserved to know.” He answered simply.

“Why is it important now?” She asked, trying to keep a level head. “It's all in the
past.”

He sighed and looked at her, his eyes boring holes into her soul. She felt goose bumps arise on
her arms from the intensity of it. “I thought that if I told you that secret then maybe I would
have the guts to say something else.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at this. “Another secret?”

“Of sorts.” He said while shuffling from one foot to the other, though Hermione couldn't
tell if it was from nervousness or if he was just antsy. “But you have to tell me a secret
first.”

Her puzzled expression never left her face. “What makes you think I have secrets?”

He put on an innocent face and shrugged. “Everyone has secrets.”

“What makes you think I want to know *your* secrets?” She rephrased, keeping her face
impassive.

“I know you.” He said simply. “You have an unnatural thirst for knowledge.” Hermione frowned.
“And, up until a few moments ago, you thought you knew everything about me and now that that's
changed, you're itching to know what I've been hiding.”

Her frown deepened. He was right. It pained her to think that she didn't know him through
and through. But the only secret she had been keeping from him was the same one that she had been
keeping from herself until last night. She couldn't tell him that! It would ruin
everything.

He saw the conflict in her eyes and took a few steps closer. Hermione stiffened and looked up at
him to see him staring at her curiously.

“I don't have any secrets.” She said unconvincingly.

“Liar.”

She huffed out an annoyed breath. “Well, I don't have to tell you anything. You and your
secret can go to Timbuktu for all I care.”

She turned around, hands crossing about her chest once more. He was being absolutely
incorrigible. How dare he come in here, telling her that he remembered every detail about their
last kiss! How dare he tell her he had another secret that she didn't know about! How dare he
ask for a secret in return!

It was juvenile, rude, and altogether *infuriating*.

There was a poignant silence between them and Hermione thought she had made her point. She was
soon proved wrong when she heard Harry's soft footsteps close in behind her back. Before she
could turn around and yell at him, he placed both his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to
whisper in your ear.

“Are you sure you don't have any secrets you want to tell me?”

She gathered her strength and spun around, Harry's hands falling to her waist in the change.
She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him, but softened when she saw that his eyes were no longer
mischievous. They were almost sad looking.

“None that I can tell you.” She answered.

“You can't or you won't?” He asked.

“I… shouldn't.” She said, avoiding his gaze.

He caught her cheek in the palm of his hand before he lost sight of her face entirely. He guided
it up softly and forced her eyes to meet his. She began to shiver at the power she felt in his
gaze.

“Please.” He spoke just above a whisper. “Tell me.”

“I…” She began, but faltered. What *could* she say? “I…”

He sighed heavily and cursed under his breath. “Oh, to hell with it!”

Before she knew what was happening, he closed the small distance between them and pressed his
lips to hers. She was nearly knocked backwards by the force of it and was only still standing
because of Harry's hand that circled her waist. All she could do was stand there and return the
kiss with equal ferocity, unable to move, unable to think straight.

The kiss ended soon after it had begun, but they were both winded as they pulled away.
Hermione's eyes opened dazedly and looked at Harry with a mixture of puzzlement and wonder. Her
thoughts were all in a jumble and because of this she said the first thing that came to mind
without any filter.

“Oh, wow.”

Harry chuckled deeply.

She regained some of her composure as Harry removed his hand from her cheek and moved it back to
her waist. She blinked a few times before speaking again. “Was that your secret?”

He smiled and opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a loud *BANG* that erupted
behind them. They both stiffened and looked around to the door, which was shaking violently in time
with the loud noises. The pair disentangled themselves right before it blew off the hinges and
headed straight toward them. Before it could make impact, Harry jumped in front of Hermione with
his quick reflexes and reached for his wand. He conjured a shield around them just as the wood
reached them. It smashed against the spell a moment later and broke into a manifold of shards that
spread all around the area of the shield. When the last of the wood fell to the ground, Harry
dropped the shield and made an attempt to look through the thin layer of dust that had accumulated
in the door's wake, Hermione coming to stand at his side.

After a short silence, the sound of heavy footfalls echoed through the chamber just before a
handful of Gryffindor guards erupted from the fog. The guards stopped in front of the couple just
as Harry gathered himself and tried to handle the situation calmly.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

*Tried* being the key word.

“Sorry, your highness, king's orders.” A guard spoke up.

“The *king*?!” Harry asked in shock. “I highly doubt he would give you orders to blow up
the door to Lady Hermione's private chambers!”

“Certain measurements had to be taken, your highness.” Another guard answered calmly.

“Measurements for what, exactly?” Harry asked.

The guards ignored his inquiry. Two of them stepped forward and grabbed Hermione viciously as a
guard toward the middle spoke in an authoritative voice. “Hermione Granger, you are under arrest
for the use of illegal magic against his royal highness, Prince Harry, in the form of a love
enchantment.”

-->



12. Look With Your Heart
------------------------



**A/N: You guys really don't seem to like my cliffhangers, haha. But if you've read any
of my other stories you know that I love to use them every so often to keep you on your toes.
Before you hate me, remember that I updated on time once more and now you get to find out what
happens next! Now go on an read before you get your torches and pitchforks out.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. Uhduh.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**


Magique
Chapter 12: Look With Your Heart

“Sirius!”

His voice boomed down the hall as he sprinted, his mind set on one thing and one thing only:
Getting Hermione out of the dungeons. Although he knew she was strong, just the thought of her
sitting atop the dirty stone floor made him mad with rage. She had no place in being there! This
was just one big misunderstanding. A misunderstanding he sought to be corrected with his
godfather's command. Surely Sirius would see his mistake in sending his guards to
Hermione's chamber, making false claims of love enchantments and threats to the crown.

When he reached the large set of double doors at the end of the hallway he stopped and began
savagely beating on them with his fists, desperate for an audience. Oh, who was he kidding? He
didn't just want an audience with the king - he wanted to strangle Sirius with an inch of his
life. But of course he wouldn't. The worst he could do was scream at him until his voice
cracked and even then it wouldn't be enough in his mind. After all, he knew this was all a big
misunderstanding and that was all. There was no need to get temperamental.

Even if the woman he loved was currently surrounded by rabid rats and an overwhelming stench of
sweat and piss.

“*SIRIUS!*”

After a few moments of nearly knocking over the wood with his fists, the door on his right
opened widely, revealing a puzzled Sirius on the other side. Harry ceased in his efforts and pushed
past his godfather, not waiting for an invitation inside. Sirius furrowed his brow as he closed the
door behind them, making sure to cast a strong silencing charm. It was going to be one of
*those* visits.

Harry turned on his heel to face Sirius just as the elder wizard finished with his enchantment.
His fists were throbbing but he could barely notice it through his anger. He could feel his face
turning scarlet as he began to speak with a forced control over his temper, his head hung low. The
result was an even more menacing tone, one that was so quiet and calm that it caused shivers up
Sirius's spine.

“Why did you send guards to Hermione's chambers?”

The king frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

Harry raised his head slowly and repeated the question, this time with his anger clearly showing
through the edges. “WHY DID YOU SEND GUARDS TO HERMIONE'S CHAMBERS?!”

Sirius was taken aback by his godson's sudden burst of emotion. He took a step back as he
let the words sink in. “I assure you I… wait… no. No the order couldn't have been made for
her.”

Harry's temper never waned and his godfather mumbling to himself was not helping. “What are
you talking about?”

Sirius made eye contact with Harry, his eyes shining with a mixture of fear and sadness. “An
order came to my desk this morning from an Anonymous source that claimed to have knowledge on an
attack aimed at you. Of course I sent guards to investigate and had them search your rooms for any
enchantments—Ë®

“*They searched my room?*” Harry interrupted, eyes ablaze.

Sirius gave him a hard look. “Yes, they did. I was only thinking of your safety so there's
no need to overreact.”

“Overreact? *Overre*—Hermione is in the dungeons! Don't tell me that the guards
actually found something in my room that led them to believe it was her?”

He meant the question as sarcastic but Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment before answering,
sobering Harry. “One of the guards informed me that they had evidence against the perpetrator and
that they were inside the castle. Naturally, I gave them the go-ahead to carry on and arrest the
criminal who threatened your life.” His eyes saddened. “I never thought that… Hermione wouldn't
do anything to harm you.”

“Of course she wouldn't!” Harry said, flailing his hands about. “Now if you could please
tell the guards to release her from the cell she is currently occupying, I'm sure that—Ë®

“It's not as easy as that.” The king interrupted. “An official charge was made. No matter
what the circumstances are, this has to be treated as a formal case.”

“But it's *Hermione*.” Harry said, his frustration growing with each passing
moment.

“I know, son, I know.” Sirius said somberly, walking a few paces to put a hand on his shoulder.
Harry flinched at the contact but did not shrug the gesture off. “I don't believe she would
harm you, either. Perhaps if the charge is minimal I can wave my influence around and get her set
free within the next few hours. What was her crime?”

Harry's face colored. “A love enchantment.”

Sirius looked at the younger man oddly, thinking he had not heard him correctly. But as
Harry's face tinted into a deep red, he knew that he had not been mistaken. He snorted. “Love
enchantments are nothing. If anything, she'll be banned from the library for a few weeks.
Nothing too serious.”

Harry nodded and Sirius's hand slid off his shoulder. His calm was short-lived, though, as a
thought struck him. He spoke in a strained voice. “If it was a simple love enchantment, why would
the guards have come at all?”

Sirius pressed his lips together and nodded. “I'll have to see that evidence, then.”

He walked out of his chambers for a moment, speaking in hushed tones to one of the nearby
guards. Harry shifted anxiously from foot to foot, waiting for him to return. This whole thing was
ridiculous! Both he and Sirius knew that Hermione would never do anything that may cause harm to
him. Then again, how much harm could a love enchantment have? Which led Harry to that dangerous
thought: What if it wasn't simply a love enchantment? Hermione never did something
half-hearted.

*Don't even start!* His mind screamed at him. *Hermione is innocent, you twat! You
know bloody well that she didn't do anything.*

He sighed. Of course she didn't. She would never do something like that. It went against
everything they built their friendship on. He knew she would never risk that because, well, neither
would he. Their minds were similar in that way. They both valued relationships with people close to
them more than anything in the world. And though she would never admit it out loud, Harry knew she
loved him and Ron more than reading. He just knew it.

Sirius reentered the room and Harry directed his full attention to him. He wore a somber look
and Harry's stomach churned unpleasantly, sensing bad news. “What is it?” he asked. “What did
they find?”

Sirius drew in a deep breath and looked Harry in the eyes. In that moment he looked years older
and Harry couldn't quite place why. It was as though his answer took a toll on him in some
way.

“You're right; it wasn't just a love enchantment.”

Harry felt anxiety wash over him like a sudden gust of heavy wind. Before Sirius could continue,
Harry blurted. “Whatever it is, Hermione didn't do it!”

Sirius looked at Harry and saw his normal confident stance fade into the quivering form of a
lost child. The king shifted his eyes away from the almost unbearable sight and continued. “I
believe you, Harry. But I don't think the Court will be so kind.”

“The Court?” Harry asked in confusion. “What does the Court's opinion have to do with
anything?”

Sirius drew in another deep breath before answering. “The evidence that the guards found
wasn't any ordinary enchantment. It was dark magic - the kind we haven't seen since the end
of the war.”

Harry's throat went dry. His knees began to wobble. After a few moments of silence, he felt
his body teeter and before he could fall he took a few wobbly steps backward and collapsed onto a
nearby sofa, his body feeling like a sand-filled dummy. All of his previous thoughts were wiped out
of his mind with only dread remaining. He had thought Hermione rotting in the castle's dungeons
for a few days had been bad. But now the punishment looming over her head was much worse than he
could have imagined. Also adding to the looming darkness encompassing the atmosphere was the
Council's obvious dislike for both Sirius and Hermione.

Sirius quickly walked over to his godson and sat down on the cushion next to him, putting a hand
on his forearm, knowing that the subtle comfort was all he could offer at a time like this. He
could hardly believe it when the guard informed him of the evidence they had found underneath a
pillow in Harry's chambers. Now they were playing a different game entirely, one that had a
significantly smaller chance of turning out well. Even if Hermione was found innocent, she may have
to be forced to flee the kingdom to save her reputation, a part of her life she had just begun to
rectify.

For the punishment that awaited her was no longer a slap on the wrist or a simple imprisonment.
Dark magic had one sentence and one sentence only after the war. Death.

Harry's shoulders began to shake as tears of anger and misery poured out of his heavy eyes.
Sirius wound his free arm around the younger man's shoulders and pulled him close. The two
stayed like that, each lost in their own thoughts as they tried to think of a way to fix the mess
one Anonymous note had caused.

~*~

Hermione shivered as another unseen breeze passed through her. She hugged her knees to her chest
and tried her best to remain calm. The morning had gone from wonderful to horrifying in a matter of
seconds. She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of Harry's lips against hers. It had been
a blissful moment - one that would have become perfect if the swarm of guards hadn't broken
into her rooms. Harry had been about to say something before they were interrupted and the hope she
thought had died the night before had welled up in her chest faster than she could have ever
imagined. He was about to say something that would change their lives, she was sure of it. But she
dared not think it for fear that she would jinx it.

He had been so enraged when the guards pulled her out of the room, shooting curses at them
before quickly being disarmed. After he lost his wand he continued to fight, running over to her
and managing to grab the sleeve of her robe before two guards forcibly pulled him off and
restrained him until she was well out of her chambers.

*Her* chambers. She had been taken out of her own chambers for a crime she didn't
commit. The thought alone filled her with a firing rage. How dare they?! Who gave them the right to
do such a thing? She heard them mention Sirius by his title but she refused to believe he would
order anyone to forcibly enter her chambers. Even if she was brought up with charges such as these,
she would have been called to his study, at least, if not completely pardoned. He knew she would
never use such petty magic against Harry. Hell, the only magic she ever performed on the young
prince was a few simple healing charms for cuts and bruises, duels excluded.

She looked around the perimeter of the cell she had been placed in. It was larger compared to
the others they had passed, but that wasn't saying much. More room meant more space for grime
and rats to accumulate. There was a single cot in the corner of the cell but she dared not touch
it. The mattress was paper thin and had a layer of Merlin-only-knows what covering it. There were
no solid walls, only long black bars providing her with zero privacy to use the hole dug into the
ground for her daily needs.

The place was revolting. No wonder so many prisoners went mad here. Although she was thankful
she wasn't residing in Azkaban, the fowl and frightening wizard prison located on the North
Sea. The looming tower had a reputation for turning its residents mad or causing them to die of
misery. Most deserved it, but the government had been known to have its few corrupt years here and
there. She had no doubt that many innocent lives had been lost on the island as well, making her
worry increase. She knew she had nothing to fear in the first place, since she was innocent, but
the thought still made her shake in her bones.

A shout from the nearby staircase cause her to jump. She had gotten used to the quiet atmosphere
in the few hours she had been down there. The ruckus continued and she strained her ears to hear
what was going on. The stairs were only a few yards away and it was a straight, steep walk down.
After moving to the edge of her cell, head pressed against the cool metal bars, she began to hear
what was transpiring on the floor above.

“I have a message for her, that's all!”

Harry.

Her heart fluttered at the sound of his voice and she straightened her back out of reflex.

“I'm sorry, your highness, but you've been restricted access to the dungeons in light of
recent events.” The voice was a low baritone and stern. Hermione felt enormous distaste for the man
that was keeping Harry and her apart.

“I'm the prince for Merlin's sake! I order you to let me through!”

“I can't do that, sir.”

There was a long pause. Hermione wanted to call out for Harry but knew that she should hold her
tongue. She didn't want to make the situation worse than it already was. By now the entire
castle would think that she was mad and Harry was under the influence of a powerful love
enchantment. That's how the grapevine worked.

She heard a loud sigh of frustration before he spoke again. “Can I send someone down with a
message?”

The guard waited a moment before replying. “That is perfectly acceptable, sir.”

“Fine. I'll send someone down within the next few minutes.”

She heard angry footfalls retreating and he was gone. Hermione pushed herself from the bars and
sat back down. He had a message for her? Could it be what he wanted to tell her before? *No*,
she answered herself. He wouldn't send someone else down with a message like that. It was too
personal. He would reveal that next time they saw each other.

*If* they saw each other.

*Oh don't think like that, you sap!* Her mind rebuked. *You're going to see each
other again. It's not like you're going to die.*

Her inner thoughts calmed her and she scooted back a few feet to rest her back against the back
wall, the only one covered in stone. All she had to do now was wait for the messenger Harry sent.
She passed the time picking her nails and humming a familiar tune, changing it up from her earlier
routine of pacing around the cell and mumbling angrily to herself. Within five minutes time, she
heard the grumbling of voices at the top of the staircase once more. She suppressed her urge to
rush to the front of her cell and listen, knowing whoever it was planned on coming down to see
her.

She heard footsteps descending the stairs and watched intently as the messenger was revealed to
her in the dim lights of the torches on the wall. She felt a grin spread on her face as she saw the
familiar tuft of ginger hair. No longer resisting the urge to stand up, she propelled herself onto
her feet and practically skipped to the front bars. Ron greeted her with a somber smile.

Seeing his mood, her grin immediately faltered as she came to a halt in front of him. “Ron…
what's wrong?”

“Harry's sent me with a message for you.” He explained wearily.

She nodded, egging him to go on.

He avoided her gaze as a thoughtful expression was etched onto his face. He was contemplating
his words, something he only did when he had to explain something of great importance or
complexity. He used to make pauses like these all the time when they were tutored by Remus as the
older professor would assign them presentations once every few months. Ron hated it, of course, but
he had gotten generally better as the years progressed. But it was in moments like these that
showed Hermione he still wasn't over his old habit.

“I don't exactly know how to put this.” He said, confirming her thoughts. “So I'm just
going to come out and say it before…” He stopped himself and took a large intake of breath, meeting
her eyes for the first time. His brown orbs were filled with unshed tears.

This couldn't be good.

“You're charged with practicing dark magic.” He explained roughly.

Her stomach dropped. “W-what? No. No, I was charged with a love enchantment!”

He shook his head, his lips beginning to tremble. “Harry said that Sirius was told that the
evidence they found against you was of dark magic making. A love enchantment, yes, but not an
innocent one.”

“But I never… *what* evidence?!”

Ron shrugged. “Harry wouldn't tell me. I reckon he doesn't know, either. Only Sirius
does and he's probably keeping it hidden for good reason.”

Hermione nodded. She was beginning to feel light headed. She wasn't daft - she knew what the
sentence for practicing dark magic was. She had the death penalty hanging over her head in the form
of a Punjab lasso. She braced herself against the gate and Ron covered her hand with his. There
wasn't much you could do to comfort a person in a situation like this, so she greatly
appreciated the small sentiment.

“How long do I have?” She asked, her voice just above a whisper.

“Your trial is in three days.” Ron said. “The entire Court will be attending and acting as the
jury.”

Hermione looked up at him, tears swimming in her eyes. “But that's not fair! They
*hate* me! I'm as good as dead!”

“Don't say that.” Ron reprimanded, though his voice was starting to falter. “Harry and
Sirius are working on a way to get you out of it. You're not even guilty! What's the worse
they can do to you?”

She pressed her lips together firmly, not wanting to think about it. It was common knowledge
that the Court had wanted a reason to strip her of her title ever since she came into it after the
war. Even if she was found innocent, they would question why she was accused in the first place and
find some twisted way only politicians knew of to denounce her of her title and send her back to
the lower town or worse - to the Muggle world.

Of course, that was an extreme look on things. But knowing the Court, it wasn't out of the
question.

She sniffled as tears began to pour from her eyes. This could be the last time she spoke to Ron.
She would never see Ginny, his younger sister who had recently began to study abroad in France, or
the rest of the Weasley family who had been so kind to her for all these years. She could very well
never speak to Harry again, never to hear the things that still remained unspoken between the two
of them.

She began to sob.

She wasn't sure, but she heard Ron sniffle a few times as well. Not that she could blame
him. It would be heartbreaking to anyone if their best friend and former lover was being unjustly
judged on extreme charges she did not commit.

The two of them held hands and cried until the sound of footfalls interrupted them. Both she and
Ron turned to see the guard looking meaningfully at them. “Time's up.”

“No.” Hermione said. “Please. Let him stay a few minutes longer.”

The guard shook his head. “Visiting hours are over. He can come back tomorrow.”

Hermione felt a warm feeling in her chest knowing Ron could come back the next day. He seemed to
be calmed by the news as well as he let go of her hand and wiped furiously at his cheeks. He turned
to the guard. “Can you spare one more minute for goodbyes?”

The guard looked warily at the two before nodding curtly. “One minute.”

With that, the guard returned to his post at the top of the stairs.

Hermione looked at Ron with a small smile. “I hope you'll visit me tomorrow.”

“I wouldn't dare decline an invitation.” He replied with a similar expression. He sobered,
however, as he continued to speak. “Harry doesn't have such a privilege.”

“It's ghastly that people actually think he's under the influence of a love potion!”
Hermione huffed.

“Well,” Ron said, gaining Hermione's attention. “He hasn't really done anything to prove
otherwise. He's always gone to extremes when it comes to you.”

Hermione felt her cheeks color. “It's his own fault then.”

They both shared a brief laughter. But even the small cheer couldn't kill the dark
atmosphere that hung around them like a coming storm. Ron looked at Hermione meaningfully.

“Did Harry talk to you before, you know…”

“Only briefly.” She said sadly. “The guards interrupted before he could get to the point of his
visit.”

“But you know.” Ron said with a small smile. “You're bright, Hermione. You know why he was
there.”

She looked sadly at him. “It would have meant more if he said it.”

“You know he would have.” Ron said, defending their friend. “I'll ask him to write it down
for you - to write you a letter!”

Hermione shook her head. “No. Thank you, Ron. But this better remain unsaid unless spoken at the
right time at the right place.”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Sounds awfully picky for someone accused of using dark magic.”

Hermione smiled. “I can't lose my stubbornness now, can I? It's part of my charm.”

Ron chuckled and looked at her with bright eyes. “We're going to get you out of this. I
promise. We'll work day and night until we find something.”

Hermione nodded. “I appreciate it, thank you.”

They both heard the sound of footsteps descending the staircase once more and were forced to cut
their conversation short. Ron grabbed her hands and squeezed them tight through the bars, even
managing a kiss on her forehead. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Just as the guard reached the floor, Ron spun around with his head held high and exited the
room, a slight strut to his step. Hermione giggled despite herself. She watched as both figures
climbed the steps and disappeared out of her sight. She waited until she could no longer hear the
footsteps before collapsing onto the ground, a well of emotions pounding into her at once.

She replayed the conversation in her head. The guards had found evidence to prove she had been
using dark magic on Harry in the form of a love potion. The Court would be arriving in three
days' time to judge her for her crime and pass sentence. Familiar with the judicial system, she
knew Sirius would have a good deciding vote since the “crime” was committed in his realm. The
thought calmed her a bit. If she were to receive any punishment at all, it would be influenced at
least somewhat by Sirius's vote.

There was only one sentence to be passed if she was guilty and that was death. But there were
many possibilities that could befall her if she was found innocent. Not many cases were like that
but Hermione knew that the Court would not pass up an opportunity to punish her for something else.
Wisely, she feared the innocent verdict more.

She forced herself not to dwell on such fearful things, as she could be lost within her own head
for hours. Instead, she thought of Harry. His image alone made her smile, knowing he was fighting
for her alongside Sirius and now Ron. With the coming days she had no doubt the entire Weasley
family would be on their side, each researching ways to avoid any possible punishment. It was nice
- no, *fantastic* - to know she had people who cared for her doing their best to help. The
friendless nine-year-old version of herself would have never guessed the amount of friends and
allies she would gain in a few years' time. And it all started with a Death Eater in an
alleyway.

She closed her eyes and let memories of her, Harry, and Ron growing up whirl through her mind,
desperate to not let her mind enter a dark place. She remembered their first lesson together and a
boy named Neville losing his toad in the library. Remus had to cancel the morning's lessons to
aid the plump eleven-year-old in finding the creature named Trevor. Later that day Ron had nearly
poked his eye out trying a levitation charm before she intervened. He was annoyed with her the rest
of the day for correcting him but calmed down by the next lesson when he made his practice feather
float.

Her mind drifted to when she was fifteen and the Yule Ball that had been held in celebration of
the tournament. She had been asked by a visiting Bulgarian gentleman named Victor Krum to be his
escort and she accepted, earning angry glares from Ron and a wide-eyed expression from Harry once
he saw her in her periwinkle dress.

After a few minutes, all of her thoughts drifted back to Harry once more and her demeanor fell.
She would most likely never speak with him again. Things would remain unspoken between them for…
she didn't know how long. If they were lucky, perhaps a few days and everything would be back
to normal. She would laugh at herself for overreacting. But things could also go desperately sour
and she may never speak two syllables to him ever again.

Hermione cursed the Court. They *had* to judge her innocent. And then, after that, they
*had* to find absolutely nothing else to charge her on so she could go about her life and get
the happily ever after that she knew she deserved. She had gone through too much and witnessed
things no woman of her age should to not be able to earn such a right.

She curled up in a ball on the floor, repeating those thoughts to ease herself into a dreamless
slumber. She would awaken sometime that night anyhow, but would use the time to her advantage,
planning out how to spend the three days before her trial.

-->



13. Devil Take the Hindmost
---------------------------



**A/N: Thank you all so much for your continued support! I have a small warning for you:
I'm moving to college in 11 days and am not sure when I'll be able to update.**
**College is a new adventure for me and it may take a while to get adjusted. I'll have time to
update on time next week but after that I'm not so sure. I hope to continue and finish this
story soon and want you to know that I have every plan to do so. It just may take me a
while.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 13: Devil Take the Hindmost

“They did *what*?!” Hermione asked, fuming with rage.

“They confiscated his invisibility cloak.” Ron repeated glumly.

“So now there's not even a chance…” She trailed off.

Ron shook his head. “I'm sorry, Herms. You know that Sirius would get it back if he could
but the Court—Ë®

“Would question his motives and his right as king if Harry got caught.” She cut in sharply. “I
know.” Her tone softened. “He would do many things if the Court wasn't breathing down his neck.
Gods, even when they're not here they're still screwing everything up!”

Angry tears began to well up in her eyes but she pushed them back. It was the day of her trial
and Harry was supposed to have come down with Ron today in his invisibility cloak that he inherited
from his father. It was to have been their one last meeting before she was to be tried in front of
the Court. But the corrupt assembly seemed to find a way to take one of his most prized possessions
until the end of the trial. The only reason they knew about the devise in the first place was
because King James had used it to spy on enemies when he ruled. He had to clear it through the
Court before being granted permission to use the cloak. It was common knowledge that he had passed
it on to his son and now they saw fit to take it away.

Hermione and Ron were sitting on the stone floor, facing each other with serious expressions. He
had come down every day at different increments to give her the latest updates and to check in on
her. He was the official liaison for the Order who, after hearing of Hermione's current
situation, had been hard at work trying to find a solution. She was blown away by the kindness that
they were showing her but, unfortunately, kindness didn't find them answers. Even the members
who had experience in the political aspects of Hogwarts didn't know what to make of her
situation. All of the rules regarding dark magic had been rewritten after the war, it seemed. What
they did know, though, was that Hermione had been set up and whoever had done it knew exactly what
they were doing.

“It's not fair.” Hermione breathed, pressing her forehead against the cool metal of her
cell. “All we needed was five minutes…”

“Is that how long it takes?” Ron asked with a smirk.

Hermione looked up and reached to shove him through the bars, hiding a laugh. “Five minutes to
*talk*, you swine.”

“A swine, am I?” Ron asked, amused. “Well that's a new one.”

“I've had time.” Hermione said halfheartedly.

Ron frowned. “You still have some.”

“Not much.” She responded dully. “I have until noon and judging by the amount of times the clock
has chimed, that's not far.”

Ron looked meaningfully at her. “We're going to find—Ë®

“It's too late, Ron.” Hermione said, her voice hallow. “All I have going for he is my
innocence. After that, it's all up in the air.”

“We're not going to let them hurt you.”

“I know.” She said, smiling softly.

Ron pursed his lips. Though the odds weren't in their favor, he knew that Hermione would
easily slip the death sentence. After a day of research, they had learned that it was customary to
use Veritaserum on all accused persons during a trial. There was no way the Court could escape that
one. Harry especially had been relieved. Ron didn't think that his friend would have lived with
himself if Hermione was to be executed in his name. But that still left the option of many
different punishments for being accused of dark magic. The Court would not only judge
Hermione's position, but her honor and moral decency.

Harry had been a walking ghost for days, not getting any sleep to the point where he became
snippy with everyone the further they got from a solution. Ron didn't tell Hermione this
because he knew she would only make herself sick with worry and guilt. He tried not to mention
Harry at all for fear that she would become relined and distant. He kept their conversations
comforting and professional, knowing that she appreciated the forwardness and ease of his visits.
He also brought regular regards from his family and the Order, all telling her not to worry.

“Hey,” He said, remembering something. “I got a letter from Ginny today. She sends her best and
threatened to decapitate each member of the Court if they punished you. Thought that might cheer
you up a bit”

Hermione genuinely smiled for the first time that day. “Good `ol Ginny. I take it she can't
make it to the trial.”

Ron shook his head. “She wants to but she is in the middle of some big project or another. She
also mentioned something about maiming one of her professors for not deeming the trial important
enough to skip a few lessons.”

Hermione breathed a laugh through her nose. “Sounds like the countryside hasn't changed
her.”

“Unfortunately.” Ron said, his nose scrunched up.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

The dungeons remained quiet after that. The short-lived normal conversation had reached its end
and the weight of the trial pressed down on their shoulders like an invisible anvil. The truth of
the matter was that there was nothing else they *could* say. In just a few minutes, the clock
would strike noon and the guard at the top of the stairs would come to escort her to the grand
ballroom where the Court would be waiting. All they had to do now was wait. But the silence only
strengthened the pressure that was squeezing Hermione's lower abdomen. Though there was nothing
left to say, she needed conversation to take her mind off of the impending minutes.

“Say something.” She said in a whisper.

“What do you want me to say?” Ron asked.

“Anything.” She answered. “Talk about the weather. Tell me Fred and George's latest
contraption. Anything.”

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment while he searched for a topic. This may well be their last
conversation - he had to make it count. He knew the perfect thing, but also knew it would be sore
on them both; the perfect distraction.

“Remember the few weeks we were, you know, *together*?” He asked.

“Ron…” Hermione said warningly. He looked at her meaningfully and she sighed. “Yes.”

“I just wanted to let you know that… that I told Harry.”

Hermione's already tight stomach clenched into a painful knot that almost made her double
over. “You what?”

“I told Harry the night before he came into your chambers.” Ron said, relieved that she was
reacting in such a way. At this rate, they wouldn't even hear the clock chime.

“Ron you - you had *no right* to tell him about that!”

“No right? Hermione, I had *every* right!” He shot back at her. “He deserved to know.”

“That still doesn't mean you should have done it.” She said quietly.

“Just because you wanted to keep it a secret from him doesn't mean that he shouldn't
know. He would have found out eventually.”

“How do you know that?” She asked icily.

He gave her a level glance. “It's one of the few secrets you've kept from him. You would
have told him eventually.” He wanted to add “especially now” at the end but knew that she got his
meaning. If circumstances hadn't been compromised, he had no doubt that they would know each
other inside and out, including their past affairs.

Hermione pursed her lips. She knew he was right but it still made her feel ill. It had been a
long time ago and she almost forgot at times because she and Ron were so close now. It had been a
mutual breakup after Harry had come back for them, though it was an impending one all the same.
Hermione was wracked with guilt because she knew what they were doing had been wrong. Though at the
time she didn't know exactly why but she had a feeling that Ron did. She thought they were
betraying Harry - that *she* was betraying Harry. Of course, she hadn't truly accepted her
feelings for him until recently or began recognizing them at all until after the war, but she knew
that they had always been there.

It had always been Harry.

She locked eyes with Ron and knew that he was thinking the same thing. He spoke quietly. “I know
what you're thinking and you're right. I knew you were in love with Harry back then but I
was too selfish to end things because, well, I loved you too much.” Hermione exhaled a long breath.
“But after a while the guilt ate me up inside and I knew we had to stop because neither one of us
was happy.”

“I'm sorry, Ron.” Hermione said. “I'm just as guilty as you are. I agreed to it to feel
like I was worth something but just ended up feeling even emptier. I used you as much as you used
me. There's no need to blame yourself and… and I'm sort of glad you told Harry before I
could. The lack of bruises tells me that he didn't take it too hard.”

“Oh he did.” Ron said gloomily. “Just not physically. I can see him battling with it every day.”
He debated whether or not to go on, knowing that he would only worry Hermione. He knew that they
didn't have much time, however, and that caused him to press forward. “He's a mess, Herms.
He's worked the hardest out of any of us to save you and it kills him inside knowing that
you're in here and he can't see you. I try to bring him news about you and he just stares
at me blankly, knowing that I've seen you and he hasn't. He's a broken man without
you.”

Hermione felt tears well up behind her eyelids. She didn't expect anything less. She had
been a mess without him, so why should he feel any different? A selfish thought, surely, but she
knew it to be true on some level. Hearing about it from Ron made it all the more real. She wished
she was there with him and that she had access to books so she could help. But she was useless down
here, only serving as the fuel behind the machine.

“I—Ë®

“It's time.”

Ron and Hermione both looked at the guard who sported a hard face. They exchanged sad looks and
stood up, Ron moving to the side so the uniformed man could unlock the door. Hermione stepped
forward and the guard yanked her arms so she stumbled forward.

“Hey watch it!” Ron said angrily. “She's still the Lady Hermione.”

The guard acted like he didn't hear him and continued about his business. He pulled a pair
of charmed handcuffs from his pocket and locked them around her wrists. She felt the cool metal
press against her skin along with the soft hum of magic. She had seen these cuffs used before on
previous prisoners. They were charmed to resist any magic so that the prisoner had no way to escape
them. Not that Hermione had any intention to - it would only add to the number of things that Court
had against her.

She allowed the guard to pull her forward roughly, Ron's protests following them up the
stairs. She was thankful for his concern but knew that this was customary treatment to all who
resided in the dungeons. Why should she be treated any different?

They reached the ground level and Hermione was hit with the bright rays of sunlight pouring in
through the windows. Her eyes squinted at the change of surroundings. She had forgotten how much
she missed the sunlight. She wished, however, her first glance of it in days would be under
different circumstances.

She glanced behind her to see Ron was directly behind her. She smiled softly at him, silently
thanking him for being here. She could barely feel the rough tugging of the guard ahead of her,
knowing that she had her friend trailing behind. They reached the entrance hall and she could hear
the crowd's building voices a few yards away in the grand ballroom. Her mouth went dry and she
had a desperate want for Harry's warm hand in hers. He always knew the right moment to hold her
hand.

She didn't have time to pout or stand in front of the double doors to gather up her courage.
The guard in front of her continued to lead her through the entrance hall and directly into the
grand ballroom. All at once the loud hum of conversation dulled and every pair of eyes turned to
her. She searched desperately for a familiar face. Instantly, her eyes made Harry's and warmth
spread through her body. But that warmth soon turned cold when she saw how tired and worn he
looked. His skin was pale and he had familiar dark circles under his eyes. His smile, though, was
warm and comforting and she returned it wholeheartedly.

Harry was surrounded by members of the Order and other familiar faces she had seen around the
castle. She was sure she had spoken to all of them at one point. She recognized a few members of
the cooking staff that she had run into while getting a midnight snack, a maid named Sally who had
cleaned her chambers on multiple occasions, and two butlers that were brothers, Stephen and
Alexander. They had always been so kind to her and she to them. Although she couldn't help but
wondering if they were here in her defense or to see her brought to justice.

She also noticed that Clara and her mother were there, which didn't do much to lighten her
mood.

The guard stopped and she looked forward to see that she was in front of a small raised
platform. Directly ahead of that was a long table atop a similar platform, though this one was
raised much higher. She guessed it was for intimidation purposes. She looked up and saw Sirius
sitting in the middle, his formal occasion crown places atop his dark mop of hair. To his right and
left were different members of the Court, most of them giving her looks with narrowed eyes and
upturned noses. One smile from Sirius, though, made all the scowls disperse from her mind.

“Ms. Granger, take your place atop the defendant's platform.” A court member she recognized
as Xenophilius Lovegood said kindly. He was one of the few without a frown, though she thought it
was because he was incapable. She had never seen the Ravenclaw representative without a dreamy
expression which made him the most mysterious of the members. No one ever knew what his true
emotion was.

She obliged the blonde's command and stepped onto the platform. There was a bar along the
front side that reached just above her stomach. She gripped it with her cuffed hands and looked at
the Court with what she hoped to be a stony expression. She couldn't show her fear. It would
only give them a sick satisfaction.

“Hermione Jane Granger you are charged with the use of dark magic against Prince Harry James
Potter. How do you plead?” Sirius asked, looking at her with a serious expression.

“Not guilty, your grace.”

Sirius nodded, writing something down. After a moment, he looked up and spoke across the room.
“Bring forth the Veritaserum.”

Hermione heard footsteps behind her but refrained from looking. She kept her line of vision
straight and only glanced down when she heard the footsteps stop in front of her. A small servant
boy was carrying a velvet pillow with a glass goblet filled halfway with what seemed to be
water.

“Please, drink the potion, Ms. Granger.” Sirius said formally, gesturing to the goblet.

Hermione unclenched her fists from the bar and reached down to grasp the goblet in both hands.
She put the glass to her lips and let her eyes flicker over to Harry. He was looking at her with a
flicker of something in his eyes. That something made her stomach well up with warmth and she
removed her eyes from his, drinking the liquid in the cup. It tasted sweet in her mouth and she
gulped the entire amount. After she finished, she set the cut back down on the pillow and stared
each one of the Court members in the eye.

“Ms. Granger, did you use dark magic on Prince Harry?” Sirius asked.

“No.” She said quickly.

He nodded and turned to the other members of the Court. “I think we can call this trial—Ë®

“Not so fast, your highness.”

A movement on the left side of the table caught her eye. A Court reprehensive from Hufflepuff
who she didn't know the name of held one of her special handkerchiefs in his hand. It was white
with her initials sewn in baby blue thread and was one of the only things she had left of her
mother. She had it in her pocket the night they were murdered.

“Ms. Granger, does this have any meaning to you?”

“Yes.” She responded automatically

“What is it?”

“A handkerchief my mother gave me.”

“And why was this found underneath the Prince's pillow four mornings ago?”

“I don't know.”

“Surely if this has any importance for you, it wouldn't be anywhere but in your own
chambers?” One of the Slytherin representatives, Lucius Malfoy, asked condescendingly.

“It was in the laundry.” Hermione said easily. “Not all handkerchiefs can stay clean all the
time.”

“You could have used a spell to clean it.” Malfoy said matter-of-factly. “A simple spell such as
that can't be far from your extensive repertoire?”

“My parents were Muggles.” Hermione answered. “I tried cleaning it with spells but it just
didn't feel right. I wanted to honor them and wash it delicately with all of my other clothing
I send down there.”

“Are the laundry maids aware of this?” Amos Diggory, a Hufflepuff representative asked.

“Yes.”

“Then it seems clear that we should be questioning the laundry maids and not Ms. Granger at this
time.” Sirius said. “She clearly does not know anything about the dark magic used on Harry and is
just as much of a victim as he.”

“But we must question why she was used as a pawn in this scheme, your grace.” A Ravenclaw
representative Hermione didn't recognize said. “Why would the culprit try to blame Ms.
Granger?”

“She is one of Prince Harry's closest friends.” Sirius said, looking at Hermione
meaningfully. “It would not be unheard of if an attack was blamed on her or Lord Weasley for that
matter.”

“Love enchantments are tricky things, your highness.” The same Ravenclaw representative said.
“Most do not work unless there are actual feelings involved with one of the parties. Whoever
committed this crime targeted Ms. Granger for a reason.”

His gaze fell on her and she stiffened. His cool gray eyes observed her for a moment before
speaking. “What are your feelings for Prince Harry, Ms. Granger?”

All eyes were on her once more and the sting of Veritaserum opened her mouth and spilled out the
answer. “He is one of my oldest and dearest friends, your grace.”

“Do you love him?”

“Of course.”

“Are you *in love* with him?” He asked pointedly.

She felt sweat seep down the back of her neck. She tried to bite her tongue but it was numb with
the effects of the potion. She couldn't admit that! Not in front of the entire Court!

Not in front of Harry. Not like this.

Her mouth trembled and her fighting soon proved to be unsuccessful. She opened her mouth and
answered as if she had planned the words all along. “With all my heart.”

There was a collective gasp throughout the room. Whispers began to circulate and Hermione
couldn't resist the urge to look over at Harry. He was looking at her with an open mouth.
Though she knew that it wasn't news to him it was still a very inconvenient place to hear it
said, especially if they had not admitted it to one another.

“Silence!” Malfoy called, banging his fist on the table.

The room quieted and Sirius spoke before any other member of the Court could intervene.
“Clearly, the perpetrator knew what they were doing when they targeted Ms. Granger. The fault is
not her own.”

“I agree.” Xenophilius Lovegood said, twirling a medallion he was wearing around his neck.

“I second.” Amos Diggory said, raising a hand for effect.

Hermione felt relief begin to spread in her muscles. She tried not to let it affect her stance,
though she desperately wanted to sink to the ground and let out a long breath. She knew that more
than half the Court remained. Even though three of the members expressed their want for her
release, it didn't mean they all did.

“I have to disagree.” Malfoy said. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the slimy Slytherin as he began
to elaborate. “Ms. Granger is innocent by all accounts, yes, but now her true feelings have been
put forth in front of the entire Court. Her feelings could easily be channeled for use once again
and we would be forced to question her right to the title of Lady if she poses such a threat to
both herself and the Prince.”

“That's codswallop!” A voice she recognized to be Ron's yelled from the audience.

“You will not speak out of term, Mr. Weasley. You may have a title but you are still not a
member of this delegation.” The nameless Ravenclaw said coolly. He turned back to Malfoy.
“Continue, Lucius.”

“I was quite finished, your grace, but thank you for the sentiment.” He said, nodding at the
Ravenclaw politely. “All I propose is that it should be taken into account that Ms. Granger is a
viable threat, though not through her own doing. Measurements should be taken to rid her from the
kingdom.”

“Your concerns are touching, your highness, truly.” Sirius said, though Hermione could sense
mocking in his tone. “But any number of the Prince's past or future suitors could pose an equal
threat, even the future queen of Gryffindor. I do not see reason to punish only Ms. Granger.”

“I do not see a ring upon her finger.” Malfoy said, gesturing to Hermione. “A ring and title of
queen offers many protections from such things. But since Ms. Granger has neither, it should be
said that she will continue to pose a threat.”

“Are you suggesting that the Prince should propose to her for her protection?” Sirius asked.

“I am suggesting no such thing.” Malfoy said. “Who am I to forcefully marry two young
people?”

“I wouldn't put it past you. Arranged marriages are common in Slytherin.” Sirius said with a
deep frown.

Lucius nodded. “That they are. I mean no harm in saying that Ms. Granger's position is
compromised and it is of no fault of her own. The heart wants what the heart wants.” He looked at
her with a fake smile and she glared at him.

“Enough of this nonsense.” The other Slytherin representative said. “Let's put it to a
private vote.”

“I agree.” The nameless Hufflepuff representative said. “This requires further private
discussion.”

Sirius sighed tiredly but nodded. “This trial will hold until the Court returns with its final
verdict.”

With that said, each member of the court left their seats and disappeared into a room behind the
raised platform. Before Sirius left, however, he shot Hermione a quick wink, letting her know that
he was going to keep fighting for her.

The room buzzed with voices as soon as the Court dispersed. Hermione saw two guards come to sand
on either side of the podium and she sighed in frustration. She turned around and saw Harry looking
at the guards in distaste. He wanted to see her. But now was more dangerous than ever when they
brought up new accusations that Hermione had never even thought of. She had never once, not in her
hours of deep thought, expected her feelings for Harry to be twisted against her.

It seemed that the Order didn't either, because they were all in deep conversations with
each other. Ron h made his way over to Harry and looked to be trying to comfort him. It didn't
seem to be working as the deep line of worry never left Harry's forehead.

Hermione's eyes met his and he tried to smile for her - tried to convey that everything was
going to be okay. But Hermione could see that he was only trying because even he didn't know
what was going to happen. Sure, they both hoped everything would turn out okay, but there
wasn't a certainty. And in a situation like this, certainty was the fine line between hope and
hopelessness.

The half hour that the Court was absent was the longest of Hermione's life. With no one to
talk to, she spent the time observing the grand ballroom and the people within it. Harry and Ron
never parted from one another, or more like Ron didn't let anyone come within an inch of Harry.
Not even Clara was allowed into their conversation, something that made Hermione happier than it
should. Elizabeth kept mostly to herself but engaged in light conversation with the people around
her, a polite smile never leaving her delicate features.

When the Court returned, all conversation halted immediately. Each of their faces were
frustratingly passive. They all took their seats except for Sirius, who had the burden of
delivering the verdict. The king of the kingdom always did. He looked around the room, and then
settled for looking at Hermione. She couldn't read his expression from her position, another
unfortunate effect of the Court's raised platform.

“We, the high Court of Hogwarts find the defendant, Hermione Jane Granger, innocent on the
charge of dark magic.” Relief spread through Hermione's body but was soon put to a halt when
Sirius continued to speak. “But the threat posed by her relationship to Prince Harry is too
poignant to ignore. The proper action, as chosen by the Court by vote, hereby sentences Ms. Granger
to be banished from the kingdom of Gryffindor indefinitely.”

Hermione's blood ran cold.

“NO!”

Harry's voice carried through the hall in a deafening scream. Hermione turned to see him
making his way through the crowd to get to her. Just as she made a move to follow his lead, one of
the guards on the side of her podium grabbed her and kept her from running to him. The other
followed suit so that one of each was hooked onto her elbows.

“Seize him, he's obviously still enchanted!” An unknown voice shouted in Harry's
direction.

Harry was only a few feet away from her when two guards grabbed him. They both struggled against
the guards and screams of protest began to well up in Hermione's throat.

“HARRY!”

“HERMIONE!”

Harry tried pulling away from the guards and began to shake them off. Hermione struggled
similarly until they were within inches of each other. Hermione took this as her chance, knowing
that this may be the last time she was this close to him. She used all of her strength to lean into
him and whispered in his ear.

“I love you.”

-->



14. Stay With Me
----------------



**A/N: This week has gone by so fast! I'm leaving for college in 4 days and am scared
shitless. I really hope that I'll adjust well and will be able to update as well as lead a
normal life. I hope to talk to you guys soon but can't make any promises. Check out my Tumblr
for some insight to what I'm up to and other things. Until then, I'm sure this chapter will
be more than satisfactory until the next update. Or not.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, nor is anything else related to it.** **I only
claim ownership over the plot, and even then I take inspiration from many other things.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 14: Stay With Me

“Sirius… SIRIUS!”

Sirius turned around to see his godson running to catch up with him, his face a dark shade of
red and tearstains across both cheeks. He stopped and waited for the young prince to catch up with
him.

He was short of breath as he stood in front of him. “Sirius we need—Ë®

“Not here.” He interrupted, looking around at the few servants who were cleaning one of the
nearby rooms. “Follow me.”

Sirius led them into his private chambers, the one place in the castle he knew they could not be
overheard. He shut the double doors behind them and murmured a silencing charm, just like he did a
few days ago when Harry had nearly knocked down his door. He turned to see the young prince pacing
the room.

“Harry, I know that you're upset - we all are - but please let me speak before you can go
off yelling and screaming about how life is unfair, alright?”

Harry stopped in his tracks and glared at his godfather. “I was not going to—Ë®

“Ah ah.” Sirius cut him off with one finger held in the air. “Me first. Sit.” He pointed his
finger down to the sofa a few feet to his right. Harry complied, mumbling angrily to himself.

Sirius pulled up a chair from the other side of the room and placed it directly in front of
where Harry was sitting. Taking a seat, he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and
staring Harry directly on. He looked even more miserable up close. The hurt in his vacant eyes
alone was enough to break Sirius's heart. He had never seen him like this. But he knew he had
to press forward if they were going to get anywhere.

“I want you to know that the Court originally planned to place her in exile from Hogwarts.” He
started, his tone bitter. “It was pure luck that I convinced them to banish her from Gryffindor
instead, saying she posed no threat to the land as a whole.”

“She still leaving,” Harry said. “No matter where she's banished from, she's
*leaving*, Sirius.”

“I know.” Sirius said, bowing his head. “It's completely unjust for the Court to do that to
someone who is innocent but, unfortunately, neither Hermione nor I have been on good terms with
them. If I had my way I would forbid the lot of them for having any say in the politics of
Hogwarts. The way they manhandled her out of the ballroom like a wild animal was just…” He trailed
off, recalling the horrendous scene in his mind.

After Harry and Hermione had made a brief contact with each other, the guards had pulled them
apart, escorting them to separate ends of the hall. Harry was held near the Court's raised
platform while Hermione was dragged out the entrance, the guards seeming to have no regard that she
was still a human being. Harry struggled even after Hermione had been “escorted” out of the room,
while Hermione had put on a brave face, though everyone who paid attention to her departure saw
that she hadn't stopped crying since she had been pulled away from Harry.

“Where did they take her?” Harry asked, his voice beginning to shake.

Sirius hesitated. “She had been placed in the lower towns while her possessions are
gathered.”

“How long will that take?”

“They'll be finished by morning.” Sirius said solemnly.

Harry buried his face in his hands as he fought back the rapidly gathering tears behind his
eyes. After a moment of silence, he looked back up to see Sirius looking at him sadly. With a
newfound determination, Harry stood up.

“I'm going after her.”

Sirius looked at him in shock. “Are you mad? You could get caught! Your right to the throne
could be revoked.”

“I don't care.” Harry said, looking at Sirius with hard eyes. “I'll revoke my
title.”

“You will do no such thing!” Sirius said, standing up to stare the younger man in the eyes.

“I'll do it for her.” His tone remained even, letting Sirius know that he had every
intention to do so.

“What, so you can run away together and live happily ever after?” Sirius asked sardonically, his
temper beginning to rise. “You have a duty to your kingdom, Harry. I know in your mind you think
that Hermione is worth it and I agree that she is an amazing woman but you can't revoke your
title. Without you, Gryffindor would be in turmoil.”

“I don't even *want* to be king.” Harry said. “I'd be rubbish at it anyway.”

“Don't say that.” Sirius said, his voice turning soft. “You're a natural leader.
It's in your blood. If you're half the man that your father was, you can run this kingdom
with an iron fist. I've seen you in action during the war; I fought alongside you for
Merlin's sake! What you did then proves that there is no one better for the job.”

Harry clenched his jaw, knowing that he had a point. He had trained his entire life to rule over
Gryffindor. People had been counting down the days until his coronation since he had turned
sixteen. He was rumored to be the best ruler Gryffindor had ever seen. Was he really willing to
give that up?

For Hermione, he would.

He sunk back into the cushions of the sofa. No matter how much he wanted to, he knew that she
would never forgive him if he did. She had been his most avid supporter since they had become
friends. If she ever found out that he had *considered* giving up his title for her, she would
be livid.

“Thinking about what Hermione would say?” Sirius asked knowingly.

Harry nodded. “She would never forgive me if I gave up my title. She's told me for years how
great she thinks I'll become when I inherit the crown… I've never really believed her.”

“Of course you haven't.” Sirius said wistfully. “You never really admit to yourself the
impact you have on people. That is what's going to make you a great king.”

Harry sighed. “I can't just let her go, Sirius.”

“I know.” Sirius answered, sitting back down on his chair. “The best we can hope for is sneaking
around. And I know that is simply beneath your standards.”

Harry smirked, seeing the twinkle in his godfather's eyes. He leaned forward, speaking in a
low voice. “Is my invisibility cloak still in the Courts custody?”

“Not as of an hour ago.” Sirius answered slyly.

~*~

Hermione sat on the cold bed sheets in silence, the last of her tears dripping down her chin.
She had spent the majority of her time in this position after she had been thrown into her
temporary residence. It was pitiful, she knew, but it took too much effort to hold back the jostle
of emotions that were running through her body. Being strong when no one else was around was
pointless. She had just been banished from the only home she had left, forced to leave behind her
friends, her title, and most of all Harry. Harry, her best friend and the man she loved with all
her heart. The thought of being without him was enough to break any piece of her heart she had
left.

She wanted to curse all of the Court within an inch of their lives, save for Sirius, Amos, and
Xenophilius, who seemed to be the only ones on her side. But she knew hard feelings wouldn't do
anything but upset her further. There was no way that she could touch any member of the Court after
this, so why even bother fantasizing about getting revenge? There was no point.

She had been locked inside this prison cell for hours now, though she could remember being
thrown into the house like it had just transpired. Her arms were already becoming sore in result of
the roughness the guards had used on her, though she stopped struggling after they left the grand
ballroom. She had no doubt there would be bruises there in the morning.

She looked around the room ruefully. The atmosphere wasn't doing anything to calm her. In
fact, it was strengthening the tears that had been pouring out ever since she arrived. For she
wasn't sitting in some random abandoned house in the lower towns, she was sitting in what
remained of her old home.

After her parents had been murdered, she had returned here only once to collect what remained of
her belongings. The living area had been destroyed as well as half the kitchen, telling her that
there had been a struggle. Now both areas were repaired but never lived in. The house remained
empty after all these years, much to her astonishment. The rooms upstairs, which consisted of her
bedroom, her parent's bedroom, and a bathroom, remained untouched save for the few items
Hermione had taken back to the castle with her. It was exactly as she remembered it, which made it
all the more easy for her to curl up in her old bed and cry.

A loud clap of thunder sounded and Hermione flinched. She looked out the window and saw rain
pouring down from the twilight sky. She clutched the covers to herself. She hated being alone when
there was a storm. The fact that she was in her old home didn't do much to aid that, either.
Images of a hoard of Death Eaters breaking down her door invaded her mind. She felt her body shake
with fear. Another crackle of thunder erupted and she whimpered, hugging herself tightly.

She tried to think calming thoughts - Fred and George's infamous pranks, Molly's
cooking, Harry's smile, Ron's hugs, Sirius winking and telling her everything was going to
be alright, her parents waving and smiling at her. The images helped and she tried not to let them
turn blue, knowing that after tonight memories were all she would have lest of those she held dear.
She couldn't let herself dwell on that now, not during a storm.

She continued fighting the presence of the storm with ailing thoughts until the rain faded into
a drizzle and the loud noises of the thunder were well gone. By the time this happened, the sky was
black and she had to force herself up to light a few candles throughout the room. She had been
given her wand back after the trial. Well, more like it was shoved into her hands as they left the
castle. But still, it felt nice having it in her possession again. She ventured downstairs to light
a fire in the fireplace as well, knowing she had nothing else better to do. After a few lingering
minutes downstairs, she decided to get ready for bed.

She took a long bath, relishing in the warm water against her skin. It had been days since her
last wash and the relaxing effect of a nice bath was just what she needed. After she was finished,
she found a towel to wrap around herself as she washed her teeth and dried her hair.

When she was finished, she returned to her room and looked through her armoire, hoping to find
something more comfortable to slip into. It was empty, save for a dust bunny on the bottom drawer.
She sighed, not wanting to sleep in the dirty dress she had worn in her time at the dungeon. She
should have just kept on her nightgown instead of asking Ron to fetch a dress for her to wear for
the trial.

Not wanting to sleep in the nude, the thought made her uncomfortable though she knew she was
very much alone, she tried to think of another solution. Suddenly, a thought came to her and she
padded down the hall into her parent's old room. She sucked in a breath as she saw the contents
of the room for the first time in four years. Their bed was still covered with her mother's
favorite quilt, consisting of an elegant pattern stitched with green and blue patches of fabric.
The side tables on either end of the bed were both covered with a single candelabrum and a few
knickknacks. The armoire to the side was carved from the same dark wood as the bed and the tables,
completing the set. It still smelled like them.

Pressing her lips together, she took another step into the room. Soon, she found herself in
front of the armoire and she reached to pull the second drawer out. What awaited her was a pile of
her mother's old nightgowns, neatly folded as if she had just put them away. She tenderly
picked up the first one at the top of the pile and let it unfold as she held it out in front of
her. She remembered her mother wearing this one on occasion and it always puzzled her because it
was so plain, yet beautiful. All of the others in her mother's collection had some sort of
pattern stitched on it or more trimming, but this particular nightgown was made of crème-colored
lace with three drawstrings at the neckline, creating teardrop-pattered opening at her chest. Of
all the clothing her mother had worn, this item in particular reminded Hermione of her - simple,
yet beautiful.

Taking a pair of undergarments as well, Hermione slipped into the ensemble. She hugged the
material of the nightgown to her, relishing in the feel of it against her skin. She breathed in
heavily, smelling her mother's lavender perfume. Though if it was really there, she did not
know, nor did she care. With a small smile gracing her lips, she returned to her room, throwing the
towel in a bin just outside the bathroom to be taken care of later.

She returned to her room to hear a strange clicking sound coming from the window. It passed
after a moment and she shook her head, passing it off as nothing. She began to make a circle around
the room, extinguishing the candles when she heard it again. Her head snapped to the window and she
walked there quickly. She looked outside but saw nothing but the downpour of rain, not a single
drop of hail or anything else that could have made that noise. She had nearly given up hope of
finding the source when she heard it again, this time accompanied by the image of a pebble
colliding with the glass. She looked down and her heart stopped.

It was Harry.

Their eyes met and he pointed to the door. She nodded and sprinted down the stairs as fast as
she could, grabbing a candle to light her way. When she reached the door, she did her best not to
throw it open. Taking a few deep breaths, she turned the handle and looked outside. Harry was
standing on her front doorstep, completely soaked from the rain. His white shirt was clinging to
his body and she could see the faint outline of his muscles through the fabric. She inhaled a
breath and looked in his eyes.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

She answered by stepping aside and pulling the door open enough to let him pass through. When he
was safely inside, she shut it behind her and placed the candle she had been holding on a nearby
table. Harry had walked over to the fireplace and was staring into the embers. She joined him and
he turned to face her. The intensity in his eyes was enough to make her melt.

“I need to tell you something - something I should have said a long time ago.” He began, taking
a step toward her so that their bodies were nearly touching.

Hermione held her breath. Was this the moment?

His eyes bore into hers and she had to remind herself to breathe. He licked his lips and spoke
the three words she had been waiting to hear for what seemed to be her entire life. “I love
you.”

“Oh, Harry.” She said, taking the final step and warping her arms around him in a tight embrace.
“I love you, too.”

He grinned and tilted her head to meet their gazes once more. Caressing her cheek, he leaned
down and captured her lips in a heated kiss. She responded automatically and tightened her grip on
him, not caring that the wetness of his shirt was beginning to soak through her nightgown.
Tentatively, he traced the hem of her lips with his tongue and she granted him access. She could
now taste him fully for the first time in far too long.

Feeling bold, Hermione lowered her hands and played with the bottom of Harry's shirt,
feeling the wet skin hidden underneath. He reacted to her touch immediately, letting out a hum of
pleasure that she felt in their kiss. After a moment of innocent caresses, Hermione felt the urge
to take things further - further than she had ever dared to go with him. It was there last night
together, she reminded herself. This could very well be her last chance to be with him. So, with a
growing sense of anticipation, she began to inch up the fold of Harry's shirt and pulled it off
of his body, breaking their kiss.

He stared at her with dark eyes and she responded by kissing the bare skin of his pectoral
softly. He ran his hand through her hair and pulled her lips back to his in another searing kiss
before she broke it off abruptly. He gave her a questioning look but she simply grabbed his hand
and led him upstairs.

When they reached the second-floor landing, Hermione walked the short distance to her bedroom
and went inside, letting go of Harry's hand when they were both in the room. She shut the door
behind them and walked over to the bed, gesturing for Harry to join her. They both sat down on the
mattress and Harry turned to face her.

“Are you sure?” He asked quietly.

“I've never been surer of anything in my life.” She answered with a smile.

Returning her expression, Harry leaned in and joined their lips once more. He pressed her into
the cool mattress and placed himself in-between her legs, continuing to kiss her with growing
passion. His lips left hers and he trailed a pattern of father light kisses that trailed down to
her neck. She sighed as he found her pressure point and dipped his tongue out to taste her flesh.
She ran her hand down his bare back and tenderly grazed his bum, then around to the growing bundle
in the front of his trousers, causing him to thrust into her hand in response. She removed her
hand, wanting to tease him just as he was doing to her, and resumed tracing her fingers down his
spine.

His hand trailed down her hip and settled on the clothed part of her thigh. She felt her body
respond immediately and gently nudged him with her hips, begging him to continue his trek. He
obliged and slid his hand under the lacy fabric, cupping her womanhood. She let out a guttural
noise from the back of her throat as he caressed her through the fabric of her undergarments. His
teasing continued only for a few moments and Hermione let out a mew of protest as he removed his
hand.

He detached his lips from her neck and looked at the three drawstrings that covered her chest.
She felt her stomach flutter as he untied each string with gentle ease. He then pushed the fabric
aside and revealed her pert breast to the cool air. He stared for a moment, but quickly took her
nipple into his mouth and sucked. She hitched a breath at the feel of his warm lips upon the
sensitive spot on her skin. He licked, nipped, and caressed each of her breasts in turn until she
couldn't bear it anymore. Threading her fingers through his hair, she gently pulled his head up
and gave him a tender kiss. He took the hint and soon, the rest of their clothes were
discarded.

Soon, they both lay naked on the bed, facing each other. Hermione reached out a hand and
caressed his shoulder, then his stomach, feeling every inch of him. Harry began to do the same,
taking in the feel of her body beneath his fingertips. After a few moments of innocent caresses,
Hermione took Harry's hand in hers and pulled him down on top of her. Soon, he was positioned
in front of her open legs and he stared into her beautiful chocolate eyes. She raised her lips to
his in a fiery kiss and he returned it with equal passion. He took the moment to place his member
at her entrance and thrust forward, joining their bodies together like they had never been
before.

They both moaned at the contact and Harry began to move in and out of her easily, her hips
meeting his in a blissful rhythm. The feel of her inside him was unlike anything he had ever
experienced before. He continued to kiss her sweet lips as they moved together in a dance only
lovers knew.

Hermione moaned his name as he continued to move inside of her. She had never felt so complete
in her life. The pleasure radiating between the two of them was electric. She could still hardly
believe that it was *Harry* that was making her feel this way. But if she really thought about
it, it made all the sense in the world.

She felt a building pressure begin to build up and braced herself. Soon, a wave of pleasure
enveloped her and she moaned Harry's name just as he spilt himself into her. They rode the
cloud of ecstasy together, murmuring each other's names along with terms of everlasting
endearment. When the moment ended, Harry pulled himself out of her and collapsed at her side. When
they caught their breathes, Harry hugged Hermione from behind, not wanting the warmth of her body
to leave him. Hermione sighed as she felt his skin press up against hers and pulled the sheets over
them.

Together, they drifted into a peaceful slumber.

~*~

Harry awoke with a wide grin on his face. Last night had been the greatest of his life. They had
awoken two times throughout the night to indulge each other, neither complaining of their tiredness
once they were rejoined. Harry still couldn't believe that it was all real and happening. He
had never, not in his wildest dreams, thought he and Hermione would be together in such a way. Sure
he had hoped for it, even fantasized about it. But now that it was true, it was unlike any feeling
he had ever experienced. It was love. He and Hermione were in love and it made him feel
invincible.

He reached over to gently embrace her but held nothing but the empty air. His eyes suddenly shot
open and he sat straight up, looking at the bare sheets that Hermione had once occupied. He told
himself to be calm. She could easily be in the bath or making the two of them breakfast. But all
thoughts, both calming and panicked, ceased when he saw a sheet of parchment atop the slightly
indented pillow.

He reached over and grasped the parchment numbly, his stomach churning when he recognized the
neat handwriting that decorated the page.

*My Dearest Harry,*

*I didn't want to do this but my impending banishment from Gryffindor couldn't afford
me the luxury of lying in your arms for more than a few hours.* *Last night was, for lack of a
better word, magical. Being with you brought me such a joy that I can hardly believe it happened at
all. I feel incredibly blessed to be loved by you, especially after thinking that my love was
unrequited. I can't exactly pinpoint when exactly my feelings for you expanded, but I am
thankful they did. Even if you hadn't returned the feelings, I would still feel honored to
be* *your friend, which I hope to* *remain for a long time after this.*

*The Court's decision to banish me has no time limit. I am hoping that one day you or I
can find a way to revoke the ruling. But until then, I suppose this is farewell. I don't know
exactly where I'm going to live but I know I'll find somewhere within Hogwarts.
Unfortunately, this means that I cannot tell you were I will be, not that it matters much seeing as
how we're being forced apart.* *Perhaps I will somehow get word to you but until then*
*just know that I'll be fine. I've always been able to take care of myself and you know
that. There is no need to worry over me.*

*By now you're probably wondering why I didn't rouse you to say all of this. The fact
of the matter is that I know you, Harry. I know that you would go to the ends of the Earth to get
me to stay, even if that meant revoking your title and being banished yourself. Don't deny that
you would**, especially now that we've come clean about our feelings for each
other**. But I can't let you do that for me. You are going to be a great king and I
don't want you to throw that away for anything. You would be starving your kingdom of a great
ruler if you left.*

*I love you, Harry. And part of me knows that I always will. If I don't see you after
today, I will be content knowing that we were together just once. Don't dwell on all the times
we could have had but focus on the time we did have. Our friendship means more to me than anything
and I wouldn't trade it for the world. And with that said, I do have one last request. If this
is the last time you hear from me for more than a year, I want you to continue on with your life. I
don't want you to forget about me, certainly, but I don't want your feelings for me to get
in the way of other, more important, things.* *Promise me this, Harry. The last thing I want
is for you to not live up to your full potential.*

*Forever yours**,* *
Hermione*

Harry read and reread the letter until he memorized every word. But even as he set it down, he
couldn't stop the slew of emotions that poured out of his body. He threw the letter to the
ground and kicked the bedside table, tears of anger and sorrow rolling down his face. He then sunk
to his knees and let sobs overcome his body.

-->



15. Stranger in a Strange Land
------------------------------



**A/N: So college is proving to be a real time suck. I'm sorry for the long wait but I
haven't found a lot of time to write recently, and when I did there was no inspiration there
whatsoever. Thankfully, I got over that for a few hours and spit out this lovely piece of work. I
can't tell you when the next update will but because even I don't know. But rest assured
that this story will not be abandoned. Ever.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.**

**Enjoy!**

-

Magique
Chapter 15: Stranger in a Strange Land

She had been walking for three days. Her food was low, her water more so, and yet she still
pressed forward, her destination only a mile away. She could see the castle from the plains in
which she treaded, its high towers nearly glittering in the midmorning sun. Her brow was slightly
wet with perspiration and her back was beginning to ache. Despite the number of shrinking and
weightless charms she put on the items in her backpack, they still added up. Especially when she
had packed every article of clothing and other various items she could find inside her old
home.

She sighed as she thought of the place that she had left Harry. It had nearly broken her to
leave him in such a way but when she was awakened by the sound of horseshoes against the
cobblestone street, she knew that she had to leave before the choice wouldn't be hers. As
quickly as she could, she made rounds in her own room to find a pillow and blanket and then to her
parents room to grab clothes once more from the armoire. She had had to purchase food with the
remaining money she had on her, which was only enough for two loafs of bread, some jerky, and two
sacks of water, leaving some money for when she arrived in the new kingdom.

When she had stopped to make camp on the first night, she had been a wreck. Tears flooded her
eyes as her body was wracked with sobs. She thought of Harry, Ron, Sirius, Remus, and Gryffindor
and how the chances of her seeing any of them again were slim to none. In the note she had left
Harry, she had sounded so confidant and sure that this situation would only be temporary, and at
the time she certainly thought so. But when she was alone under a blanket of unfamiliar trees,
chilled to the bone in the cool night air, it was hard to be so optimistic.

Now, on the morning of the third day, after two nights of restless sleep, she had finally
arrived at her destination. She stopped in her stride and looked up at the black and yellow banners
billowing in the light breeze. Hermione still didn't know why she had chosen Hufflepuff as her
new residence. In all actuality, the smarter place would have been Ravenclaw, but since both Clara
and her mother had resided there at one point, she thought of the place as tainted. Slytherin was
simply out of the question as she had heard horror stories to what some of the hierarchy did to
Muggleborns.

She took a deep breath and walked into the kingdom, immersed in the new environment. It was
alike to Gryffindor in so many ways, and yet so different. She had thought the entrance would lead
to the lower towns, where she would find a cheap inn to rent a room. But instead she emerged into a
center point of the city. She could tell by the moderately sized and decorated buildings and giant
fountain in the middle of the road. She walked up to the fountain hurriedly and dipped her hands in
to splash water on her hot face. She felt her entire body relax with the contact of the cold
liquid. Using her sleeve to wipe the excess drips from her skin, she looked up at the beautifully
carved form of a badger perched on the pedestal in the fountain. It was standing with its paws
facing the sky and a tumble of vines winding at its feet. Hermione smiled at the carving and
continued on, hoping to find a nearby inn.

She walked down the road for a few minutes, passing thin crowds of people here and there, until
she spotted a sign that read *The Leaky Cauldron.* She knew this place to be an inn because
there was one placed in every kingdom of Hogwarts. They were known to have great food, excellent
service, and cheap rooms. Thanking her lucky stars that this was the first place she came across,
she entered the lowly lit building.

There were a few people scattered among the handful of tables distributed about the room. Her
eyes traveled the perimeter until she saw a man behind the bar. Not seeing any other employees
around, she made a path for the man.

“Hello.” She greeted cheerily.

“Mornin' miss. What can I do you for?” He responded kindly.

He was an older man with a bald head and a few missing teeth. But the smile lines on his bow
gave him a kind demeanor. Hermione smiled. “I was wondering who I could speak to in order to rent a
room for a few days?”

“You're looking at him.” He said with a grin. “And you're very lucky. We have one room
left. But I'm afraid it's not the best we have, a bit on the cheap side.”

“I'll take it.” Hermione said quickly.

The barman nodded. “How many nights will you be staying?”

“Three.” She replied. Three days would give her enough time to find a job somewhere and pay for
a longer stay.

“That'll be four galleons, please.”

Hermione shook off her bag and reached inside, rummaging around for her coin purse. She found it
and dumped the contents into her hand. She had five galleons and a sickle left from her purchases
at the Gryffindor market. She plucked the amount for the room and handed it to the man.

“I'll show you to your room.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Hermione placed her purse back into her bag and followed him up a flight of rickety old stairs.
They arrived on the second floor landing and he led her down the hall to the very last door on the
right. He opened the door and gestured for her to go inside. She obliged.

The room was slightly smaller than her room at home and vastly so from her tower in Gryffindor
castle. The furniture was all made of the same dark oak, a few spots of dust covering the larger
items. There was a single bed in the far right corner with covers that looked well-worn with use. A
small armoire was against the left hand wall, one of the doors hanging open from what Hermione
assumed to be a broken lock. A chair and end table with a small candelabrum were directly on her
right. To complete the room, a large ornate rug covered a third of the floor and echoed past beauty
aged with dirt and dust.

“Like I said, it's not our best…”

“It's perfect.” She interrupted.

Not questioning her, the man pressed on. “Your stay comes complete with free meals for the
remainder of your stay. Here is your key.” He reached into his pocket and fished out a small brass
key. He handed it to her and she clutched it in her fist.

“Thank you.”

“You've very welcome, Miss…”

“Hermione.” She finished for him.

“Hermione.” He repeated with a smile. “I'm Tom and if you need anything please don't
hesitate to ask. Enjoy your stay.” Before she could thank him once more, he took his leave.

Hermione turned to her new residence and let out a deep breath. She threw her bag onto the bed
and looked out the window just past the end. There was a spectacular view of a wall on the other
side, the wood mere inches from the glass.

After a pause, she set to unpacking her things. She had to clear a few dust bunnies from within
the drawers before setting her small pile of clothes inside, but she didn't mind. A room was
still a room and she was lucky to have that. When all of her things were unpacked, she folded the
bag inside out, intent on washing it. She was stopped, however, when a piece of parchment floated
to the floor. Curious, she reached down and picked it up.

It was the portrait of Harry, Ron, and her painted after the final battle. She had requested
that a copy be made after she had the idea for Harry's coronation present. She stared at the
portrait and felt tears begin to well up in her eyes. The younger trio smiled and waved
enthusiastically at her and she had to bite her lip to repress a sob. She looked around the room
and walked over to the end table to set the picture so it was leaning on the candelabrum. After her
initial sadness dissipated she smiled at the portrait. It was a reminder of what she was fighting
for and what she would go back to in time.

Peeling her eyes from the picture, she straightened her composure. If she were to fight in order
to see them again it would do well to find a source of income so that she wouldn't be fighting
from the streets. Clutching her room key tightly in her hand, she exited her room with the intent
of finding a job fitting to do just that.

As she wandered the streets she began questioning every shop owner she could. Some were kind in
their refusals, telling her that they were not looking for new employment. Others practically threw
her back onto the streets, yelling profanities and other slanders.

After a particular nasty trip on the pavement, Hermione felt her stomach rumble. She sighed and
headed back to the inn. When she arrived, the place was packed with customers. Tom was at the bar,
pouring a stocky man a mug of ale. Hermione walked up to him just as the man left and he gave her a
kind smile.

“Evening, lass.” He greeted. “I just cooked up a fresh brew of broccoli stew.”

“That sounds lovely.” Hermione said halfheartedly, not bothering to leave the exhaustion out of
her tone.

Tom's brow furrowed. “You all right, Hermione?”

“Fine,” She replied. “I just spent the entire day looking for a job so I could pay for a longer
stay here only to find that no one within a two mile radius is hiring.”

The older man frowned. “Aye. It's tough trying to find a job these days in Hufflepuff…” He
trailed off.

“You're telling me.” Hermione confirmed sadly. “I don't know what I'm going to
do.”

Tom looked at her and saw a broken woman, sorrow etched into every inch of her drooping
composure. He pitied the poor child and hated to see a kind face in such misery. Suddenly, an idea
struck him. He looked at Hermione with serious eyes and spoke in a hushed tone so as not to be
overheard.

“I've been wanting an extra hand.” He said in a whisper. “If you want, you can help me at
mealtimes to cover your board.”

Hermione's face lit up like a morning sunrise. “That would be incredibly kind of you.”

Tom waved his hand in a nonchalant manor. “All in good spirits. Besides, your company can't
be too unpleasant.”

Hermione giggled and suppressed a wide grin. “I will be forever in your debt.”

“Oh poppycock.” He said. “It will be my pleasure. Just… don't go spreading it around. Like I
said, it's hard to find a job in Hufflepuff nowadays. I don't want ten unfortunate
townsfolk coming here asking for jobs, although I would love to give them some. This place is only
so big and doesn't need more than a handful of people running it.”

“I understand.” Hermione said.

Tom nodded. “Good. You can start tomorrow.”

~*~

After four weeks of working at the inn, Hermione still hadn't thought of a way to get in
contact with anyone of the Gryffindor hierarchy. She contemplated sending a letter, though that was
highly dangerous seeing as all mail directed to the castle was monitored. She thought about sending
word with a messenger, but that was also risky because the person could get intercepted and
questioned. So far her ideas, as well as her hopes, were dwindling fast.

She was wondering the streets on break from her morning shift when she saw a window display that
caught her eye. A new shipment of books had just come in! Hermione made a beeline for the shop and
entered. She had been here many times before, whether just browsing, researching, or finding a new
book to read. It smelled of worn parchment and pipe tobacco.

She found the new shipment pile and began ruffling through it, eager to see what new treasures
were waiting for her. She stopped, however, when her hand collided with another's reaching for
the same novel.

“Sorry.” They both said at the same time.

Hermione looked up and saw a familiar pair of gray eyes.

“Cedric?”

“Hermione?” He responded with equal confusion.

“What are you doing here?” They both asked in unison.

Smiling, Cedric answered the question first. “I'm picking up a few books for my father. What
are you doing here? You're a far way from Gryffindor.”

“It's a long story.” She said, bowing her head.

Cedric's eyes narrowed but then a look of realization passed over his features. “Oh. Right.
The Council banished you for being a threat to the crown.”

“Something like that, yeah.” She said lowly.

“Hermione, I'm sorry.” He said sincerely. “The Council is insane for passing judgment so
harshly.”

Hermione nodded. “It can't be helped.”

Cedric frowned. “Let me take you out to lunch. You look like you need someone to talk to.”

Hermione smiled. “That's incredibly kind of you but I have to work at lunchtime.”

“Brunch, then.”

She giggled. “Alright. Lead the way.”

A friendly face was just what she needed. She let Cedric lead her away from the books, which she
knew all too well would be there later (*society and its lack of appreciation for literature -
honestly!*). They walked a few minutes in silence before Cedric spoke up.

“Where do you work?”

“The Leaky Cauldron, just down the street.”

Cedric nodded. “Tom's a good man. I've eaten there plenty of times.”

Hermione agreed. “Yes, he's wonderful.”

“Are you staying there as well?”

She nodded. “I work to pay my board.”

“Sounds like you've made quite the living here.”

She frowned and spoke in a monotone. “Yes, I suppose I have.”

He looked at her with worry but didn't say anything. The mute answer was all he needed to
confirm that she wasn't in a right state of mind. How could she be? She had been banished from
the one place she called her home and was forced to live in an unfamiliar kingdom where she knew
close to no one.

They arrived at a small bakery and Cedric ordered them each a slice of garlic bread and a
serving of pumpkin juice. He then led them to a small table in the front of the shop where they sat
and began eating.

The silence was growing thick and Cedric knew that he had to be the first one to speak again. He
looked at the young witch and spoke kindly.

“If you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm here.”

She looked at him with sad eyes. “That's very kind of you. But I don't want to burden
anyone with my problems.”

“You also don't have to carry that burden all by yourself.” He said. “Even if you don't
want to talk, I can still help anyway you need me to.”

“I don't think you can do much to…” She trailed off. Cedric *was* part of the hierarchy
of Hufflepuff and his father on the Court. If she could have help from anyone, the safest bet would
be him. She looked at him seriously. “Perhaps you *can* help.”

“Name it.” He said.

“Could you possibly relay a message next time there is a Court meeting?” She asked
hopefully.

Cedric thought for a moment. “Yes, I suppose I can. I'll just ask to accompany my father the
next time the Court convenes. What's the message?”

“I'll write it down and give it to you when the time comes.” Hermione said, feeling
butterflies begin to well up in her stomach. She may actually get into contact with someone in
Gryffindor! The thought alone was enough to make her giddy.

Cedric nodded in understanding. “I'll do my best.”

“Thank you.” Hermione said, reaching across the table and grasping his hand. “If there's
anything I can do to repay you…”

“Don't even mention it.” He said with a smile.

Hermione grinned, removing her hand and taking another bite of her garlic bread. The stench was
a little much to get used to at first but the sweet buttery taste made her forget all about it. She
set the bread down and took a sip of her juice, washing it down. The butterflies in her stomach
were now gone and were replaced by a sudden wave of nausea. She had gotten too excited over the new
turn in events that she had practically swallowed her slice of bread. Shaking off the feeling, she
finished her brunch and waited as Cedric returned their plates and goblets.

“Let me escort you back to The Leaky Cauldron.” Cedric said when he returned, holding a hand
out.

Hermione took his hand and allowed him to help her up. “That's very kind of you but…
*oh*.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing I - I just got a little light headed is all.” She said.

Cedric looked at her curiously and his eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Your face is as
pale as a ghost. Are you sure you're alright?”

“I'm fine, just a little dizzy is all.”

“Dizzy? Hermione you look like you're about to pass out. Let me take you back to The Leaky
Cauldron.”

“Perhaps that's a good idea.” She said, feeling her body begin to teeter. Cedric put a hand
around her waist to steady her. “I do feel a bit off.”

“Maybe it's the heat. Have you drunk enough water today?” She didn't answer.
“Hermione?”

She couldn't hear him. The world around her began to spin, words and places blurring around
her. Her world faded to black just as she heard her name being called out in earnest.

-->



16. In Two Seperate Worlds
--------------------------



**A/N: Well there's no use beating around the bush. College does not help my updates**
**at all****. Sorry guys but I have no idea when I'****m going to be able to update
these next few months. I hope I won't take too long to write each chapter but I guarantee
nothing. All I can say is keep checking this story for updates because there is no set date for me
to write and publish these things. But as I said before: I'm never giving up on this story.**
**Ever****.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. Uhduh.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 16: In Two Separate Worlds

“Well is she going to be okay?”

“I assure you, Master Diggory, she will be just fine.”

“But why did she faint? A person just doesn't up and collapse on the street without
reason!”

“We will know the cause soon enough when the tests are finished.”

“But—Ë�

“Please, Master Diggory. Get some rest. Go for a walk. Don't worry yourself over things that
not ought to be dwelled upon. I will summon you when she awakens.”

Hermione heard a sigh of resent before the light sounds of footsteps faded into the distance.
The woman to whom he was talking to let out a breath and spoke in a low voice. “You can open your
eyes now.”

Hermione remained still as she felt her stomach jump into her throat. She couldn't let the
woman know she had been eavesdropping! Not only was it improper, but also incredibly rude and
uncouth. Harry and Ron had taught her well.

“Oh you can drop the act, dearie. I saw your hand twitch two minutes ago after I dabbed the cold
cloth on your forehead.”

Mortified, Hermione cracked open an eyelid to see the matron looking at her with a coy smile.
Feeling it was safe to drop her façade, she opened both her eyes fully and met the woman's
gaze.

“I'm sorry f—Ë®

The matron held up a hand to silence her. “It's quite alright, dearie. We all have our
natural curiosities.”

“It wasn't that.” Hermione said quickly. “I just didn't want to interrupt. You and
Cedric were talking and it would have been rude of me to keep you from it.”

The matron raised an eyebrow. “You're the reason we were having the conversation to begin
with. I'm sure it would have been perfectly alright of you to let us know you were awake.”

“But you already knew.”

“Yes,” The matron said with a nod. “But you seemed quite keen to seem asleep so I simply played
along. It was quite amusing, really.”

Hermione narrowed her brow. “How exactly was it amusing?”

The matron's cheeks colored. “Well, whenever you heard your name mentioned, your hand or eye
would twitch. You're very lucky Master Diggory wasn't facing you or else I fear you would
have been discovered.”

Hermione chuckled despite herself. “I'm not the best actress, am I?”

“That you are not, dearie.” The matron agreed with a shy smile. “Now, do try to relax and
don't make any sudden movements. You've been out cold for a good four hours.”

“Four *hours*?” Hermione asked in shock. “But - but I only fainted. I should have been out
four *minutes* at the most.”

“Unfortunately not.” The matron said. “It's very curious. If you were out any longer we
would have declared you comatose.”

Hermione pushed herself into a sitting position so that she was leaning on the headboard of the
bed. Not knowing what else to say, she began to look around the room. It was of average size and in
the shape of a circle with a good number of beds lining the walls. Off to the right there was an
archway where she assumed Cedric had disappeared through. On the opposite side was a closed door
with a single cross engraved on the wood. She was in a hospital wing. One inside Hufflepuff Castle,
if she wasn't mistaken. It looked very similar to the one in Gryffindor save for the circular
shape and décor.

“How did I get here?” She asked wearily.

“Master Diggory brought you, of course.” The matron said. “He was in a right state. Didn't
think you were breathing. Of course he calmed down once I showed him how to check for a pulse.”

Hermione couldn't hide the amused smile that snuck its way onto her face. She sobered as
another thought struck her. “Why did you send him off if you knew I was awake?”

“Poor boy needed some air.” The matron replied. “Plus, since you were awake, I figured you would
want to hear your test results privately.”

Hermione shook her head. “Why would I?”

The matron continued brusquely. “Patients usually do. They feel it is their own personal
business and their choice on who should hear it.”

“I suppose I understand.” Hermione said softly. “If it were something life-threatening or a
lifelong disease, I would want to hear it alone. Unless… someone I trusted was with me.” Of course
she was going to say “Harry,” but she held her tongue. Her tone turned tense as she turned to the
matron with wide eyes. “I'm not terminally ill, am I?”

“Oh heavens child, no!” The matron replied at once. “I ran those tests immediately after you
were brought here. They only take a few minutes or so to produce results.”

“What tests are you running now, then?”

“Unfortunately, the body can only take so many at a time so I had to save the most basic for
last. Nothing too serious, so don't be nervous. Think of it as a checkup.”

Hermione felt a wave of relief sweep through her.

“They should be done in a minute or so. Hang tight while I fetch them.”

“Wait,” Hermione said as the matron was about to turn around. “Shouldn't you tell Cedric
that I'm awake?”

“Oh, he can wait. A bit of fresh air will do him good.” She replied with a smile.

Hermione watched at the matron retreated through the door with a cross on it. She sunk into the
pillow on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She had a few ideas on what could have caused her
to pass out. The most likely being the lack of sleep she had been burdened with since she arrived
in Hufflepuff. Her nightmares had returned and she had no way of stopping them. She longed for
Harry's warm embrace to fend the wretched things away but knew that it was near impossible.
With her working long hours at the Leaky Cauldron and her exhausted body, it was a wonder she
hadn't collapsed sooner.

Her new lifestyle still needed some getting used to. Back at Gryffindor she could be up and
about for hours with only an hour's rest. The added stress of past events must still be eating
at her. Not that it was any surprise. She missed Gryffindor more than she could bear.

At least, she hoped that was all it was.

There were a million other possibilities as well. She could only pray that it wasn't
anything fatal. But no, surely that couldn't be it. She didn't have any history in her
family of diseases detrimental to their health. Oh, she was overthinking this too much! The matron
said it wasn't anything to worry about.

“Hermione, dearie.” The kind voice of the matron snapped her out of her reverie.

Her head craned up to meet the woman's gaze. “Yes?”

She held up a bundle of parchment. “I have your test results.”

Hermione immediately straightened her composure, her stomach tightening with anxiety. “And?” she
asked with a shaky voice.

“Congratulations.” The matron said with a smile.

“I'm not fatally ill?” Hermione asked, feeling her body begin to relax.

“Oh no, dearie. Far from it.” The matron answered with a giggle. “Although I must say, the
little bug inside of you will be quite the handful these next few months.”

Hermione felt her worry begin to build up again. “Bug? What bug? I thought you said I was far
from ill.”

“Far from *fatally* ill.” The matron corrected. “Well, not really ill at all, in fact.
Depending how you look at it.”

Hermione gave the woman a puzzled look. “What's wrong with me?”

The matron smiled. ”Nothing, dear. You're with child.”

The words echoed in her mind as she felt her world fade to black once more.

~*~

He was at the desk in his private study. Papers were strewn about every which way, accompanied
by the odd book or two on wizard law. Harry Potter, the crowned prince of Gryffindor, was currently
hunched over the desk, his head bowed into his arms. The silence of the room was only penetrated by
the sound of his serene breathing.

Ron looked down upon his best friend and sighed. He had been at it all night again, trying to
find a way to revoke the Court's verdict. Of course, Ron had done his fair share as well, but
stopped to eat and replenish his energy. The redhead was beginning to wonder whether Harry knew the
meaning of “rest” and “relax” anymore.

He stepped forward and smacked the desk with his palm, causing a loud sound of impact to fill
the room and shake the young prince awake. Harry's head shot up. He had papers stuck to his
face but quickly swiped them off to see who woke him. Ron's judgmental eyes stared him down and
he frowned.

“I'm not going to give up, Ron.” He said hardly.

“I never said you should.” Ron answered. “You just need to take it easy.”

“I can't.” He responded. “Not when I still haven't heard from Hermione. It's been
over a month!”

“I'm sure she's fine.” Ron said reassuringly, used to this same routine whenever the
subject was breached. “It's dangerous for her to send messages here, you know that.”

“Yes but—Ë®

“But nothing.” Ron interrupted. “You know she'll send something when she finds a way.
Knowing Hermione, it won't be long now.

Harry smiled sadly. “Yeah, I suppose you're right.”

“Of course I am.” Ron said, puffing out his chest. “I'm always right!”

Harry gave him an amused look. “You wish.”

Ron's chest deflated and he put his hand over his heart. “That hurts, Harry.”

Harry grabbed a bit of parchment and threw it at him, laughing lightly. Ron deflected the blow
and stuck out his tongue childishly. The gloomy atmosphere disappeared for a few moments while the
two friends laughed together. The moment ended, though, when Harry's happy expression slowly
faded away seconds afterward.

Ron looked at him morosely. “You don't have to hate yourself for having a laugh while
she's gone.”

“It just feels… wrong.” Harry responded sadly.

“Yeah I know, mate.” Ron said as he nodded slowly. “But she wouldn't want us to be glum all
the time. She would hex us into the next century if she knew we were deprived of happiness because
she's gone.”

“Sounds like her.” Harry straightened up and raised the pitch in his voice. “Harry James Potter,
you put a smile on your face this instant before I blow off your nose!”

Ron let out a bark of laughter. “Spot on!”

Harry chuckled. “Thanks.”

“See? Just because you're working hard on bringing her back, doesn't mean you can't
laugh once in a while. As long as there's still hope, you've got a reason to smile.”

Harry let out a breath. “You sound like Hermione.”

“It was intentional.” Ron said with an upturned lip.

Despite his friend's attempt to get another smile from him, Harry held it back and gave him
a level stare. “It's not over until she's back in Gryffindor.”

Ron nodded solemnly. “I know.” The happy moment was fading away once more and he knew better
than to change it. It was back to business. He looked down at the desk cluttered with text. “Made
any progress?”

“Nothing worth nothing.” Harry answered in a monotone. “The Order?”

“Same.”

Harry made a noise of frustration. “You would think that some progress would have been made by
now!”

“We're all doing the best we can, Harry. The Court's ruling is strict.”

“There's always a crack in the system. We just haven't found it yet.” Harry
countered.

Ron sighed. “Well then we'd better get cracking, then.”

Harry gave him a small nod and gestured to the seat across from him. Ron sat gingerly on the
seat and began sorting through the only organized pile of papers on the prince's desk. And so
began another long day of research to being their beloved friend and love back.

~*~

“Hermione, Hermione… come on, wake up.”

Hermione groaned as her eyes fluttered open. As her surroundings faded from her hazy blur, she
saw Cedric's concerned face looming over her.

“Celine told me what happened.” Cedric said softly, gesturing to the matron beside him.

Celine nodded. “After you fainted again, I figured it was time to fetch him.”

“You told him…?”

The matron nodded. “I apologize if you wanted to keep it a secret but I had to give him a proper
explanation. The boy was a nervous wreck.”

Cedric shot her a dirty look but softened when he saw Hermione propping herself up against the
headrest of the bed. A pregnant silence loomed over them as Hermione gathered her thoughts.

All this time when she thought she was exhausted and overworking herself, she was just suffering
from the effects of pregnancy - something she never even considered to be a possibility. Of course,
Harry and she had never used any contraceptive spells during their night together, but at the time
it was the furthest thing from either of their minds. They were too wrapped up in each other to
care. Now she was carrying his child inside her. Harry's *child*.

She looked down to her stomach and put a hand on top of it. She was not showing any outward
signs of pregnancy, but it was only a matter of time. She began to rub her stomach softly as a
small smile worked its way onto her face. A part of Harry was growing inside of her, her only
connection left with him whilst she was here in Hufflepuff.

Suddenly a thought struck her and she snapped her neck over to Cedric. “We have to keep this
between us.”

Cedric furrowed his brow. “Why? Shouldn't you be happy?”

“I am in a way, I guess.” Hermione said, knotting her hands on her lap. “But if Harry ever found
out about this then he would drop everything, including his crown, to come and be with me. I barely
convinced him to stay the first time.”

“The child is Harry's?” Cedric asked.

Celine's eyes widened. “The crowned prince of Gryffindor?”

Hermione nodded. “I fear that if he ever got wind that I was carrying his child, he would starve
Gryffindor of the best king they will ever have.”

“Hermione, you have to tell him eventually.” Cedric said seriously. “A man should never be kept
in the dark if the woman he loves is carrying his child.”

“I will eventually.” Hermione said. “Just not until I figure out a way to get back in
Gryffindor”

Cedric bit his tongue. Now that she was with child, he feared that Hermione would stop at
nothing to get back to Gryffindor. He had every confidence that she would revoke the hearing one
day, but it might take years. He let his eyes wander back to Hermione and saw her caressing her
stomach once more. He saw the face of a woman that would do anything to reunite her child with its
father. At that moment he vowed to do anything to help his friend. If he was correct, she and Harry
had only had a small amount of time together before she was banished. Two people in love like Harry
and Hermione were should never have anything short of a lifetime.

“I'll help you in any way I can.” Cedric said.

“Me as well, dearie.” Celine said.

“Thank you.” Hermione said with a soft smile. “I fear that the hardest part will be covering it
up. Are there charms to morphing my outward appearance without harming the baby?”

“There are.” Celine said. “But they're very risky. The effects have a habit of causing
premature birth and some defects.”

“I don't want to do anything that may cause harm to it.” Hermione said quickly.

“Then we'll have to revert to old-fashioned methods.” Celine said. “Wear clothing that hide
your growing belly. With any luck, only a few passersby will notice.”

“But what if one of them notices that I'm the Lady Hermione?” Hermione asked with growing
dread. “I can't risk getting any information to Gryffindor unless it's with Cedric at the
Court meetings.”

“There are a few cosmetic charms for hair and eyes that will have no effects on the child.”
Celine said. “I have a book in my office.”

Hermione nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.” She then turned to Cedric, who was looking
at her with a serious expression. “When is the next Court meeting?”

“Two weeks.”

Hermione pressed her lips together before speaking. “Then we need to work out my message before
then. Celine, will you fetch the cosmetic charms book while we start to brainstorm?”

“Sure thing, dearie.” And with a smile, she turned and went into her office to find the
book.

After a few minutes of ideas being passed between the two nobles, Celine returned with a small
leather book and handed it to Hermione. She thanked the matron kindly and flipped through the
pages. When she came upon a combination that she liked, she grabbed her wand from the bedside table
and recited the proper enchantments.

When she was done, she turned to her two friends and made a small gesture to her face.
“Well?”

Cedric looked at her for a moment before nodding. “It'll do. Everyone who matters knows the
Lady Hermione is a brunette. The eyes add a nice touch, though.”

The matron smiled in agreement, looking into Hermione's new set of emerald green eyes. “You
look quite fetching, my dear. You may want to straighten your hair for good measure, though.”

Hermione snorted. “I've tried every charm in the book to do that. Most last for a few hours
at most. I'll just keep my hair up.”

Celine grinned. “Alright, then. I think you're ready.”

“Hermione Granger the blonde. Who would have thought?” Cedric said thoughtfully.

Hermione smirked and changed the subject to one of more importance - the first message she would
send to Gryffindor. All the while they were discussing, Hermione's hand remained atop her
stomach, subconsciously bringing herself closer to the new life that was beginning to form inside
of her.

*I'll come* *home* *Harry*, she thought to herself. *Whatever it takes -
I'll come home to you.*

-->



17. Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again
---------------------------------------



**A/N: Looks like month-long updates are becoming my new forte. But hey, at least I'm
updating! I'm thinking only about 4 or less chapters to go before the end of this story.
Don't worry, though. At the rate I'm going, it'll go by real slow ;) Thank you all so
much for sticking by this story. It means so much to me!**

**Disclaimer: HP = JKR**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 17: Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

“Are you absolutely sure you don't want to come along?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “But I know I shouldn't. Not unless it's absolutely
necessary.”

He saw the shine of sadness begin to fill her eyes and did his best to give her a reassuring
smile. He placed a hand on her shoulder for good measure as he spoke in a gentler tone. “It'll
be all right, you hear me? This whole thing will be over before you know it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I have faith.” He answered. “And you did too until this morning. Nothing has changed,
Hermione. The plan is still the same and the outcome has the same high chance of working out.”

“I know, I know, it's just…” She trailed off. “I can't help but feel that I should be
going with you, though I know it's a terrible idea that would risk everything.”

“It's not a terrible idea.” He said encouragingly. “It's just not a logical one.”

Hermione let out a short laugh. “Yes, I suppose you're right.”

He looked at her for a long moment before pulling her into a tight embrace. “Everything will be
fine. I promise.”

She nodded against his chest as they pulled apart. “Be safe.”

He smiled softly at her. “You know I will. I'll be back within four days with word from
Harry.”

At the sound of his name, her stomach tightened. Cedric must have noticed because he bent down
to give her one last kiss on the forehead before turning around and getting inside the carriage
that would take him to Slytherin.

He turned around in his seat just in time to see her waving at him through the window. He
managed a quick wave back before the horses began to pull him down the pavement. Hermione continued
to wave until the carriage disappeared around a corner, its black and yellow banners blowing in the
wind.

As she put down her hand to rest at her side, she let out a long breath. All their planning and
carefully constructed encoding was finally being put into action and the thought made her both
excited and terrified. How she wished that she could be the one to tell Harry she was alright - to
see his face when he realized it was her and she was alive and safe. But no, she couldn't. It
was too big of a risk for such a small task. She knew that if it came to it, she may have to return
to Gryffindor in disguise, but now was not that time. Instead, she stayed behind, waiting for her
dwindling hope to be returned to her.

“It's no use just standing around all day, dearie.” The kind voice of Celine spoke from
behind her.

Hermione turned around to see the matron smiling softly at her. “Just lost in my thoughts is
all.”

Celine nodded. “Perfectly understandable.”

“I should probably get back to work.” Hermione mused. “I've already taken too many
afternoons off because of my morning sickness.”

“Have you told Tom about—?”

“Yes, he knows.” She interrupted. “But I also told him it was on a need-to-know basis. He's
been kind enough to indulge my needs thus far and I don't want to wear out that luxury.”

“I don't see the need for you to be working there anyhow.” Celine said, crinkling her nose.
“You already have a room in the manor to use at your will.”

“I know.” Hermione said. “And it's a very kind of Cedric to provide me with such
accommodations. But I still need to save money.”

“For what, dearie?”

“I don't know exactly.” Hermione said, her brow furrowing. “I've always been like that -
saving up money so I have it at my disposal if something comes up.”

“Thinking ahead is a good trait to have.” Celine said approvingly.

Hermione smiled and the two women shared looks of understanding. Though Hermione wanted nothing
more than to stay with Celine and chat, she knew that she had a responsibility she had to attend
to. “Well, I must be off. I'll see you around midnight.”

“I'll have a hot cup of soup ready for you when you get back.”

“You're an angel, Celine. Truly.”

“Oh pish posh. Just go on and earn a few sickles for your pocket.”

Hermione nodded and began to walk the opposite way from where Cedric's carriage had
departed, waving at Celine in her wake. The matron returned the gesture and turned around to
reenter the manor, intent on reading a good novel until the time came to fix her new favorite
patient a bowl of her famous medicinal soup.

As Hermione walked down the cobblestone street, she saw the normal hustle and bustle pass her
by. The sun was shining, the birds were singing - there was really no reason for her to be
worrying. She had four days to relax before the real mission began. If she was correct (which she
was fairly sure she was), then Harry would not only give her a personal message in return, but also
update her on the progress he had made in trying to crack the Court's system. She hoped he had
made more progress than she. He had the abundant recourses she lacked as well as the Order to help
him. Hopefully it would be enough for at least a slight push in the right direction. That's all
they needed, a push to start the fight to bring her back home.

She reached The Leaky Cauldron just as the lunch rush was beginning to pour in. Tom was behind
the bar, fixing a pint for one of the tables. He saw her enter and called “Mia! Thank Merlin, I
thought you wouldn't make it in time.”

Mia was her codename. Hermione wasn't exactly a common name and since she had already
changed her hair and eye color, she figured she may as well do the same with her name. She chose
Mia simply because it was what her mother used to call her when she was younger. She had also
chosen a fake last name to use just in case the situation called for it. Another tribute to her
lost family - Morgan for her grandmother on her father's side.

“Sorry.” She hurriedly apologized. “Had to see Cedric off.”

Tom nodded. “Well Bernn needs help in the kitchen. Chopping vegetables or something.”

“I'll get right on it.” Hermione said before making a beeline for the door that led into the
kitchens.

~*~

It was a day's ride to Slytherin by carriage. Since he had taken extra time to make sure
Hermione was okay, he had lost a few hours off his earlier-planned journey. But Cedric remained
adamant that they would not stop until they were within the kingdom's walls. He knew he was
pushing it with his driver and the horses but the task at hand was too important to lose any amount
of time over. The meeting was just after lunch the following day after his departure and he wanted
to take every opportunity to get Harry by himself to relay Hermione's message. At the rate they
were going they would get there with an hour or so to spare.

When Cedric was waking up from one of his many dozes throughout the journey, his eyes ventured
out the window where he saw the approaching colors of green and silver. They had arrived. He
straightened his composure as the carriage passed through the gates and into the lively city.

They came to a halt in front of a well-known inn located in the upper town called
Persephone's Pearls. Cedric thanked the driver and gave him a few galleons to find a suitable
stable for the horses and buy a suite at the inn. As the driver took his leave, Cedric headed into
the building and purchased a room for himself. He knew very well that he could have a room in the
castle for a night or two but it was risky with all the materials that he had brought and the
snoopy staff.

One of the employee's, a busty blonde by the name of Meg, led him up to his suite. He gave
her a winning smile and tipped her handsomely, making a mental note to stay at this inn more often.
After she left, Cedric emptied the contents of his bag onto the bed and separated what he needed
for the meeting and what he could leave behind. When he was finished, he set to going over the
message once more, Hermione's letter clutched in his hand. He stayed like that - pacing the
room until the clock struck noon. Sighing, he pocketed the letter and grabbed his other
supplies.

Showtime.

He walked the short distance to the castle and made his way up through the entrance. Showing the
guards his credentials, he entered the castle with ease. He couldn't see Harry anywhere in the
entrance hall and deduced that he must already be in the grand ballroom where the meeting was to
take place.

Cedric hurried down the hall and into the grand ballroom where he saw most of the Court was
already present. No one had taken their seats yet but he knew that in a few minutes that would not
be the case. He wouldn't have enough time to speak with Harry before the meeting; he was
cutting it too close.

Just as that thought passed through his mind, he saw Harry enter the hall with Sirius by his
side. He caught his eye and a sour look passed over his features for a moment before he smiled
politely. Cedric inwardly chuckled. He still hadn't forgotten the ball and how close he and
Hermione seemed at the time. It was quite amusing to think about now, after things had changed so
drastically.

“If everyone would please take their seats, we are ready to begin.” Kingsley said.

The members of royalty and their respective representatives took their seats as the meeting
began. “The first order of business is an announcement that I have been wanting to make for quite
some time. I will be leaving office within the year for reasons that shall remain unspoken and the
time has come for a predecessor to be chosen.”

A slight buzz began in the room. Even Cedric's interests were pegged. Kingsley had only been
in office for just under five years - a fairly short reign for any head of the Council. Every mind
in the room was putting together theories on why he had chosen now to resign. Family issues? Poor
health? A bribe? It was the subject for a week's worth of gossip.

Kingsley continued to speak over the hum of voices “Nominations will take place at the next
meeting so as to give every potential candidate time to make their final decision.”

The subject was then changed and the Court's attention shifted to other matters. Compared to
the first announcement, they were all rather bland. Combined with Cedric's growing impatience
to speak with Harry, he had to fight with himself to pay attention. He wasn't going to do his
kingdom any good if he remained unfocused.

Before he knew it, the meeting was over and he was gathering his stuff in a flurry. He kept one
eye fixed on Harry as he did so, not wanting to lose sight of him. He got caught in a hushed
conversation with Sirius just as Cedric began to walk over towards him. Taking a deep breath, he
pushed forward until he was a few feet away from the pair. Clearing his throat, he gained the
attentions of both gentleman and spoke quickly before Harry's gaze burnt him into a crisp.

“Excuse me gentleman, I don't mean to interrupt.”

“No harm done.” Sirius said with a small smile. “What can we help you with, Mr. Diggory?”

“Well, I was hoping to speak with Prince Harry for a moment.” Cedric said.

Harry's brow furrowed. “What business do you have with me, Diggory?”

Cedric nearly flinched at the harsh tone but chose to ignore it. “I'm afraid it's
urgent.”

“And what is it regarding?”

“The state of Hufflepuff.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

Cedric pursed his lips, biting back his urge to groan in frustration. Harry was proving to be
more difficult than he originally thought. Wanting to skip the frivolities, he switched to his
second offensive.

“Please, it's best if we carry this conversation elsewhere.” He reached into his inner coat
pocket and pulled out Hermione's letter, angling it so Harry could see Hermione's seal.

That certainly caused him to shut up. Harry's eyes widened and he began to nod furiously.
Cedric smirked.

“Excuse us, Sirius.” He said in a rush.

Sirius nodded and Cedric led the two of them out of the hall and into the empty entrance hall.
Knowing it wouldn't be vacant for long, Cedric searched for an empty room through one of the
side hallways. Finding one, he pushed open the door and motioned Harry inside. He closed the door
behind them and lit the room, making sure to cast a few silencing charms as well. You could never
be too safe in a situation like this.

He turned and faced Harry, whose face had softened drastically since he last checked. In fact,
he looked rather vulnerable. His observation was aided as Harry spoke up in a soft voice.

“Is… is that really what I think it is?”

Cedric took the letter out of his pocket fully and handed it to the young prince. He took it
gingerly in his hand and Cedric saw his face visibly brighten. His face snapped up to meet
Cedric's gaze

“How did you get this?”

Cedric smirked. “If I told you that, Hermione might kill me.”

Harry snorted and opened the letter. Written in Hermione's neat hand was a single
paragraph:

*Harry,
There is not much I can write to you without taking a large risk**,* *which I'm sure
you understand. Just know that I am safe and well taken care of. Please inform Cedric of any and
all information you have regarding the Court's verdict. He is a valuable asset and we would do
well to have a liaison of his stature working with us. I am eagerly waiting for the day where I can
set foot in Gryffindor again and see you. Give Sirius and Ron my love and express my gratitude to
the Order for being so helpful these past few weeks.

All my love,
Hermione*

“She's alright.” Harry breathed, more to himself. But Cedric heard him all too well and he
smiled. After a moment Harry lifted his head and met Cedric's eyes once more. “She's not
just being modest, is she? She's really alright?”

Cedric nodded. “As fit as a fiddle.”

Harry grinned and tried his best to contain himself. “I take it you've been helping her with
research?”

“Yes.” Cedric answered, fishing in his coat pocket for the second parchment he had tucked
inside. He handed it to Harry who took it with a raised eyebrow. Cedric explained in a straight
tone. “Hermione encoded our findings in runes. She said it would be safer that way. Unfortunately,
we don't have much to go on.”

“Nor on this end, I'm afraid.” Harry said with a frown. “Finding a crack in the Court's
system is as easy as finding a needle in a haystack. There are so many laws and bylaws that
it's nearly impossible to find any information worthwhile.”

“I agree. Even with my family's extensive library I couldn't find anything that could
help us.” Cedric said in disdain. “Hermione is nearly at her wit's end in frustration. The only
hope she has remaining is fed with the hopeful results of your research.”

“Which are next to nothing.” Harry said scathingly, beginning to pace. “I've spent every
night reading and cross-referencing…”

“You have?”

Harry stopped in his tracks and looked at the Hufflepuff. “Of course I have.”

Cedric brow furrowed. “Is that entirely healthy?”

“It doesn't matter.” Harry said firmly. “It's my fault she's gone and I need to
bring her back.”

“How is it your fault?” Cedric asked. “The accusations made against her were false on all
accounts. You did nothing wrong.”

“It's always my fault.” Harry said morosely. “Every bad thing that's happened to her -
every scar, every death, every nightmare - it's all been because of me. And now she's been
sent away because she's a threat to the wellbeing of the kingdom. If it wasn't for me she
would still be here.”

“Don't say that.” Cedric said. “If Hermione heard you she would slap you hard across the
face for even *thinking* that.” Harry remained silent and averted his eyes. “Harry, that woman
loves you with all of her heart. Don't you think she knew the risks that came with being in
your life? And even if she didn't, why would she still be fighting to be with you? You two
share something powerful - something that brings you back together in times of darkness. You'd
be a fool to set the blame on yourself for a moment before thinking otherwise.”

Harry pressed his lips together before speaking. “Did Hermione tell you to say that as
well?”

“No.” Cedric said. “That was from an outsider's perspective.”

“An outsider that's also a liaison?” Harry asked with an upturned eyebrow.

Cedric smiled dutifully.

They were prevented from carrying on the conversation by a knock at the door. Confused as to who
it would be, Cedric simply called out a “Come in.” to be courteous.

The door opened to reveal Sirius, looking every bit as confused as they were. “What are you
doing in here? You've been gone for ten minutes. I was starting to get worried that you might
have killed each other.”

“What? Why would we do that?” Cedric asked, playing the innocent role.

Harry shifted from one foot to the other and changed the topic before things got awkward.
“Cedric brought word from Hermione.”

“Did he?” Sirius asked, his eyes going wide with surprise. “What news?”

“She's okay!” Harry said, a wide grin on his face.

“That's fantastic!” Sirius said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.
“Where is she?”

“Safe.” Cedric answered. Though he knew the answer to be fairly obvious since it was he who
delivered the message, he wanted to say honestly, if things went wrong, that he never told Harry
where Hermione was staying.

Sirius nodded in understanding. “And does she bring any news?”

“Only this paper, encoded by runes.” Harry said, holding out the parchment.

Sirius took it and scanned it over. “Should be easy enough to decode. Is there any worthwhile
information in there?”

“Only a few laws that have relation to the Court and its verdicts. Nothing you haven't read
before, I'm afraid.” Cedric informed the king.

“Ah.” Sirius said, disappointment etched into his tone. “Well let's hope that our research
proves to be fruitful once combined.”

“But what if it isn't?” Harry asked. “What if it's the same results we've
gathered?”

“Then we'll be twice as reassured that we found the right laws to look into.” Sirius
said.

“What if they tell us nothing?”

“Harry.” Sirius said firmly. “Now is not the time to be in doubt. You've just received word
from Hermione. Shouldn't you be more motivated to get her back?”

“Of course I am.” Harry said. “I just can't help but feel that all of this combined research
is going to turn out with nothing. I don't want to waste anyone's time if there's not
going to be any results. Right now I think we stand a better chance of infiltrating the Court and
working our way out of this through the inside.”

“We've already ruled that one out, Harry.” Sirius said. “You would be putting the entire
kingdom on the line.”

“You think I don't know that?” Harry said, his tone becoming more agitated.

“Hang on.” Cedric interrupted. “I think Harry might be onto something.”

Sirius turned to him. “Like I said, Cedric. We've already ruled out that option. It would be
too risky and may cause the downfall of the Gryffindor monarchy.”

“Normally, yes.” Cedric said, the wheels in his brain turning. “But didn't you hear
Kingsley's announcement today? He's stepping down from office…”

“Giving us an opportunity to influence the court from the highest position.” Sirius said,
finishing his thought. He looked at the young noble with an astounded expression. “I think you may
be onto something, Cedric.”

“But Kingsley wasn't present at the hearing.” Harry said. “I remember. He had to take a day
of leave for business out of the Kingdom.”

“A ploy, I bet.” Sirius said. “Kingsley would never abandon a hearing on such short of notice.
My theory was that he had been Imperioused to stay away from Gryffindor - even forgetting about the
hearing entirely. I could never prove this, mind you. No territory would have the guts to pull such
a move. Not even Slytherin.”

“They seemed pretty happy about Hermione leaving.” Harry said sourly.

“Of course they would, they hate everything having to do with our Kingdom.” Sirius said in a
blasé tone. “It doesn't mean they would have the power to do anything about it. Since the war
they've been low on the influence and income levels.”

“Its common knowledge by now that Hermione was set up for that trial.” Cedric said. “Perhaps if
we could infiltrate the Court, we could get the knowledge to find whoever did it and revoke the
banishment.”

“Spoken like a true diplomat.” Sirius complimented.

Cedric bowed his head in thanks.

“Now since Harry's coronation is only a few short weeks away, it would be best if we
nominated him for the position.” Sirius said. “Any objections, Harry?”

“No.” Harry said firmly.

“Fantastic. Let's get to work.” Sirius said, motioning the two to sit down on one of the
spare tables in the room.

And so they began to plan, all the while Harry never being able to keep a smile off of his face.
The thought of holding Hermione in his arms once again filled him with a joy that he hadn't
felt in nearly a month.

-->



18. I Carry Your Heart With Me
------------------------------



**A/N: My first semester of college is now officially complete and I am freeeeeeeee! Well, for
a month, anyway. I finally finished this chapter which I started just before my finals and let me
just say that it was a real bitch to finish. I have been busy every day since I've been home
and it was real****ly hard to find time to update. But I finally did and I hope that I can
update again before going to school. Anyway I really hope this chapter was worth the wait (as
always… ha) and thank you for being so patient and understanding! You guys are amazing.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 18: I Carry Your Heart With Me

It had been just over three weeks since Cedric had returned from Slytherin and Hermione was in a
right state. Her belly had begun to grow and that paired with her rising hormone levels was making
it increasingly hard to concentrate both during her shifts and The Leaky Cauldron and late research
sessions with Cedric and Celine.

“Hermione, you're wearing yourself thin.” Cedric said later one night. Hermione glared at
him as she placed a hand over her swollen stomach. “Relatively speaking, of course.”

She sighed and set down the book she had been reading and rereading for over two hours. After
their plan to get Harry into the head position of the court had been put into action, Hermione
shifted gears to narrowing down the possibilities on who had made the accusation that had lead to
her banishment. Although she already had her suspicions, she didn't want to let her biases get
the better of her. But at this point with all the little progress they had made, she was ready to
accuse anyone.

“The faster we figure this out, the faster I can return to Gryffindor and resume my life exactly
how it was.” She said, flipping to the next page of the book quite loudly.

“Exactly how it was?” Cedric asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione felt her face flush. “Well no, not *exactly*. But you get my point.”

“Yes, I do.” Cedric said, leaning over his pile of books to meet her gaze. “I also get that you
need your rest. You have a big day tomorrow.”

Hermione nodded. “I know.”

“And you're the one who insisted that you accompany us.”

“I know.”

“After all you said about how it would be too dangerous. But you made a promise to yourself and
him that—Ë®

“I *know*.” She snapped.

Cedric smirked. “Good. Well as long as you know.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“You're going to need your beauty rest if you're going to want to make an
impression.”

She clenched her teeth. “I can't be recognized, Cedric. We went over this. What's the
point of dolling up if Harry isn't even going to recognize me?”

“Because you have to fit in with the crowd.” Cedric said blatantly. “And it's going to take
a lot of work to make sure Harry doesn't recognize you at all.”

Hermione sighed. She knew he was right. Harry knew her inside and out and if she wanted to sneak
into his coronation, she had to be smart about it. She couldn't style her hair the way she
usually did at a ball, she couldn't wear anything she would normally, she had to wear layers of
powder and crèmes - she couldn't look herself at all. If Harry knew she was there he would go
into a state. And if he noticed her protruding stomach it would be even worse.

Hermione closed the cover of her book with a light sound of resignation. “Fine. You win.”

Cedric grinned and followed her as she got out of her seat and retreated to her room. She turned
to him as they reached the door and smiled softly. “Good night.”

“Sleep well, Mia.”

She chuckled under her breath and closed the door behind her. The room she had been living in
these past few weeks wasn't as large as the one she had in Gryffindor Castle, nor was it as
small as the one back in her old home in the lower towns. It was a happy medium and she
wouldn't have liked it any other way. Her bed was angled in the corner with two windows on
either side of the canopy, giving an illusion of her own personal astronomy tower. All it needed
was a roof that retracted so she could stare at the stars as she attempted to sleep.

She dressed in her nightgown, which was becoming snugger each day, and got into a comfortable
position on her bed. When she finally relaxed she let a small smile expand across her face. She was
going to see Harry tomorrow. After all of this time away she was going to see his ebony hair,
piercing green eyes, and heart-melting smile.

But though she tried to dampen her excitement, knowing that it would only threaten their plan,
she still could not wipe the smile from her lips. Tomorrow she would be reminded on why she was
fighting in the first place. And that thought in all of its promise was what got her the best sleep
she had had in months.

~*~

Today was the day. He looked at himself once more in the floor-length mirror and saw a stranger
standing before him. A stranger decked out in flamboyant robes and crowned jewels - someone that he
couldn't bring himself to take seriously. Of course, he could never take himself too seriously.
Not after all that had happened throughout his life. He couldn't afford that sort of
luxury.

“Harry?”

He turned around to see his best friend standing in the doorway with a lopsided grin. He was
dressed in his best attire with Gryffindor colors head to foot. His ceremonial sash was placed just
right upon his chest, badges and medals shining brightly in the light.

Harry smiled softly. “You look dapper.”

“And you look like you're about to walk the plank.” He responded, taking a few steps further
into the room.

“Gee, thanks Ron. You really know how to brighten a man's mood.”

“Just doing my job.” He said with fake modesty. When he saw Harry's face fall back into his
former expression of blankness he sobered his tone and looked at his old friend with a serious
expression. “You nervous?”

“Not really.” Harry responded honestly. “I just… never thought this day would come. It seems so
surreal. And without Hermione here it feels just wrong.”

Ron nodded. There was a definite emptiness in the air without Hermione's warm presence. It
didn't feel right having the ceremony with her still banished but they all knew that it was
essential to the plan. Harry had obtained a steady candidacy for the head of the Court and it would
be helped even more so with his promotion to king. All in all, it was ultimately helping them bring
Hermione home. But knowing that didn't quite seem to fill the gaps in their hearts where the
beloved Lady's company should be.

“It's for the best.” Ron eventually replied.

“I know.” Harry responded. “But it doesn't feel like it.”

Ron placed a comforting hand on the soon-to-be-king's shoulder. “Just remember to relax.
It's supposed to be a happy day.”

Harry nodded. “You're right.”

“You'd be surprised how often that's true.”

Harry chuckled and shoved Ron off of him. The two men shared looks of amusement that seemed to
melt away their worries. Their moment was short-lived, however, when there was a quiet knock on the
door. They turned and saw the bright blonde hair and trademark blue dress that still managed to
make an impression.

“Clara.” Harry breathed.

“I know I'm not supposed to be up here but I told the guards it was urgent.”

Harry's brow furrowed. “What is it?”

Her eyes flickered to Ron for a brief moment. “Do you mind if I tell you in private?”

Harry looked to the redhead and Ron nodded. “I'll see you at the ceremony.”

He nodded to Clara on his way out before shutting the door. Harry looked at the petite Ravenclaw
with a staid expression. “What's happened?”

“Oh, nothing.” She said nervously. “I just wanted to speak with you alone about something.”

“It couldn't wait until after the ceremony?” He asked, slightly annoyed. He would have liked
to spend a few more moments with Ron, seeing as he was the only one who could make him forget his
worried nowadays.

Her eyes shined with regret the moment the words came out of his lips. “I'm sorry,
you're right. I had no authority to barge in on you before your coronation. Pardon me.”

She turned to leave but something inside Harry made him call out, “Wait.”

She froze and craned her head to look back at him.

“It obviously meant something to you if you went to all of the trouble of speaking to my guards
and navigating your way around the castle. It's the least I can do to hear what you have to
say.”

She turned back around to face him and took a few steps forward. She spoke very quietly, with a
light air in her tone. “I just… I wanted to see how you were. You haven't responded to any of
my letters since after me and my mother left. You looked positively devastated after the trial and
I… I don't know… I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Harry looked at her with a guilty expression. He had been meaning to return her letters, but
with all of the time he had been dedicating to revoking Hermione's sentence he hadn't found
the right moment to begin a single reply.

“I'm doing better, I suppose.” He said. “I'm truly sorry I haven't replied to your
letters. I've been pressed for time these past few weeks and couldn't find a moment to
catch my breath let alone sit down and write a letter. I hope you do not think ill of me.”

“No of course not.” She said. “I figured that you were busy with preparations for the
coronation. A future king shouldn't be bothered with letters from a Lady well outside his
kingdom when he has more important things to worry about.”

Harry nodded, going along with her logic. “Thank you for understanding. I couldn't bear it
if I was on your bad side.”

“Hardly.” She said with a smile.

“Good.” He said, returning her smile. “I'm glad we understand each other.”

She nodded, her tone turning somber once more. “I know it must be hard without her here -
Hermione, I mean. She was your close friend, yes?”

“She still is.” Harry said, bowing his head. “And in some ways, much more than that.”

Clara's eyes widened. “So it's true, then? You do love her.”

Harry's neck snapped up to her. “Where did you hear that?”

“Nowhere.” She said quickly. Straightening her composure, she continued. “I was at the trial,
Harry. She proclaimed her love for you in that room and I saw the way you looked at her after that.
Like you couldn't believe she was real - that mixed with pure terror as the trial turned for
the worst.”

Harry was speechless.

“A woman's intuition is a powerful thing, Harry.” She continued. “And to be truthful I
sensed the connection between the two of you from the start. But I was selfish and didn't want
to acknowledge it when I knew that I could ignore it and pursue my own desires. I know now that it
was wrong for me to keep you apart and for that I must be the one to apologize. I let my
mother's encouraging words and my own delusions push me to do something I knew was wrong. And
after the trial I felt even more disgusted at myself for what I had done. I am so sorry, Harry. I
wish I could take it all back.”

A pregnant silence stretched out between the two of them as Harry let her words sink in. He
would be a fool to say that there hadn't been something between the two of them and if things
were different and he didn't love Hermione, maybe they would have stood a chance. But things
*were* different, and he knew now that Hermione was the only woman with a place in his heart.
He looked into Clara's light blue eyes and saw her sorrow reflected in them.

“We cannot change the past.” Harry began. “I do not hold your actions against you. I am at as
much fault as you are - hiding from my true feelings for far too long. Now I fear I am paying the
consequences and I don't believe I should share that burden with anyone but myself. There is
nothing to forgive because you did nothing wrong.”

“Harry…”

“I am glad you came up to see me. I can now go into my coronation with a much wider
perspective.”

Clara smiled sadly at him. “You're going to make a truly wonderful king.”

“Thank you.”

She pressed her lips together, looking to be in thought. After a moment she looked at Harry with
a nervous expression. “I hope that after all of this we can still remain friends.”

“Of course.” He conceded.

To his surprise, she closed the distance between the two of them and wrapped him in a warm
embrace. He returned the pressure briefly before she let go, her cheeks a light shade of red. “Good
luck today, Harry.”

“Thank you.” He replied with a genuine smile.

“Your highness?” A deep voice said from the doorway. “It's nearly time.”

“Oh! I'd better be off and find my seat.” Clara said in a rush. She quickly turned around
and walked to towards the door until she suddenly stopped. Harry looked at her with an amused
expression as she turned on her heel.

“One last thing.” She said. “To be receiving your kinghood today with a high head in the absence
of the one you love makes you the bravest man I've ever known.”

Harry couldn't find the words to reply to her statement. Not wanting to wait for him to find
them, she rushed out the door, knowing that her tardiness wouldn't make a good impression on
the other members of the hierarchy already seated.

Finally finding himself, Harry straightened his composure and tried to allow Clara's kind
words to add to his motivation to get through the ceremony. Taking a deep breath and looking one
last time in the mirror, he left the safe confines of his room and followed the two guards waiting
outside on a short trek to the grand ballroom.

From outside the double doors, Harry could both feel and hear the hundreds of people just beyond
their oak build. His guards were now on either side of him but he knew that he must make his ascend
down the aisle alone. He wished more than anything he could have at least Ron by his side - it
didn't feel right to be doing this without either him or Hermione. But it was in the tradition
of the kingdom that the crowned prince must do it alone.

But somehow, he knew in his heart that he wasn't alone. Sure he may be walking by himself
but that did not that mean he didn't have the thoughts and prayers of everyone he knew and
loved following his every step.

The sound of trumpets interrupted his train of thought and he immediately straightened his
composure. The guards grasped each of the door handles and pulled gently, letting the warm light of
the hall spill onto his skin. A hush fell and every head in the room turned to look at him. He
tried not to let his face color at all of the attention and began to walk, being mindful not to
trip. With his luck, he would land flat on his face on a day like this.

Thankfully, he made it all the way to the main platform without incident, taking in all of the
familiar and not-so-familiar faces along the way. He saw the Weasleys, Clara and her mother, and a
few Hufflepuffs that he had met before. When he stepped onto the platform, Sirius greeted him with
a wide smile. Dumbledore was directly beside him, acting as the master of ceremony.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Lords and Ladies alike, we are gathered here this day to mark the end of
an era and begin anew with the crowning of Prince Harry James Potter, future king of
Gryffindor.”

Dumbledore motioned Harry forward so that he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Sirius. Both of their
backs were to the people and Harry could feel the weight of their gazes bearing into his back. But
despite the heaviness he felt of expectations and envy alike, he kept a level head by thinking of
the people who mattered - the people he was doing this for: his people, his kingdom, and his
love.

“Kneel.” Dumbledore said. Harry and Sirius obeyed. The elder's blue eyes focused on Sirius.
“Do you, Sirius Orion Black, willingly pass on your crown to Harry James Potter, revoking your
responsibilities and title?”

“I do.” Sirius said.

Dumbledore looked at Harry. “And do you, Harry James Potter, accept the crown from Sirius Orion
Black, obtaining all responsibilities that the crown entails?”

“I do.” Harry said.

Nodding, Dumbledore reached down and plucked the crown from Sirius's head and placed it atop
Harry's. Despite the regality of the jeweled headpiece, it felt light as a feather.

“Arise and face your people, King Harry James Potter of Gryffindor.”

Harry stood and turned, looking at the crowd. Applause echoed throughout the hall and Harry
grinned and bowed, not knowing what else to do. The ceremony was now complete and he felt a
heaviness lift from his shoulders. He was now officially the king of Gryffindor. His eyes searched
the crowd as he began to wave, taking in every smiling face. He spotted Cedric and gave him a nod.
Next to him he saw a blonde women dressed in a light yellow gown. She had hair golden as the sun
and eyes as green as his own. She was very beautiful and he couldn't shake the feeling that he
had seen her somewhere before. Shaking his head he continued looking about the room. After all, he
had seen many of these people before. One woman couldn't be all that different.

Sirius put a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. “You did it, Harry.”

Harry lowered his hand and looked at his godfather with a grin. “I don't feel any
different.”

“That's a good thing.” He said teasingly. “Means you'll keep your level head.”

Harry nodded with a chuckle. “Now I just have to face all the congratulations at the ball.”

Sirius chuckled. “And that, my boy, is your first great test.”

Harry shoved him in the shoulder and followed him down the steps of the platform. Though the big
step was over, they still had a long way to go. And that included getting changed for the grand
ball that was to take place within the hour where he would meet and greet the majority of the
people present at the coronation.

~*~

“We have to go.”

“Hermione, calm down.”

“He saw me, Cedric. We have to go. *Now*.”

“I'm sure he didn't recognize you.” Cedric said, putting a calming hand on her
shoulder.

“You didn't see the way he was looking at me. Either he recognized me or I look really,
really familiar.” She said in a rush, looking about the hall as the castle's help began to
rearrange the furniture to make room for the ball. “We can't stay here. As king he's going
to have to meet with a large amount of the guests and if he sees me again his curiosity won't
let him leave it be.”

“Hermione, calm down.” He repeated. “You know I would follow you out in a heartbeat but I'm
part of the Hufflepuff hierarchy now. I can't just up and leave, especially since I'm the
liaison between you and Harry. If I leave he's going to suspect something's up.”

“But we can be long gone by then.” She argued.

“I'm sorry but no.” He said firmly. “You were adamant about coming here and now you have to
live with the consequences.”

Hermione's face became pale. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Cedric nodded and Hermione rushed past him and out of the hall. She made a beeline to the
nearest washroom and bent over the nearest chamber pot. A wave of nausea washed over her and she
dumped the contents of her breakfast into the porcelain. Clutching her stomach, she braved the rest
of the sickness and leaned back against the wall when she was finished.

When she first saw Harry enter the hall her entire body reacted, and that included the baby. It
kicked her for the first time when she saw him. She placed a hand over her stomach and smiled to
herself. It was incredible that the baby reacted to his presence like that. Well, it was either
that or her rapidly increasing heartbeat. Either way being around Harry elicited a reaction that
both excited and scared her.

When their eyes met it was only for a brief moment. She had to act like she was just another
royal guest at the coronation and not some love-struck teenager. But in that moment she wanted
nothing more than to fly above the crowd and knock him over with a tight embrace and a kiss that
would make the entire hall swoon.

Then the flicker of recognition made its way into his eyes and her thrill turned to panic.
Despite being in a large crowed of beautiful royalty he still managed to find her, even if he
didn't know it. But familiarity was dangerous enough to make her desire to leave alarmingly
high though she knew Cedric was unable to do so.

Now she knew that she had to avoid seeing Harry at all costs, no matter how much it pained her.
And as her nausea was slowly waning, she knew that she had to exit the washroom soon, no matter how
much she wanted to lock herself in here for the remainder of the ball.

After a few more minutes of regaining her composure and coming up with a surefire way to avoid
being seen by the newly crowned king, she got up off of the ground and exited her safe haven. She
could hear the loud hum of voices in the hall and with a large intake of breath, she entered the
sea of people, looking for Cedric.

She found him within a minute and he smiled at her. “Are you alright?”

“Better.” She said. “I'll never know why they call it morning sickness when it comes at
every moment of the day.”

He chuckled briefly before seizing up. His eyes flickered above her head and she felt dread wash
over her.

“Hello Cedric.” The familiar bass sounded from behind her. She had to repress a shiver.

“H-Harry.” He said with a stutter that couldn't be hidden.

“Would you care to introduce me to your truly dazzling friend?”

Hermione stiffened.

-->



19. All My Trials
-----------------



**A/N: Sorry I couldn't update again when I was on break but I did manage to find some
ti****me my first week back at school!** **Thanks so much to everyone who is still sticking
to the story even though my pain in the ass schedule prevents me from updating whenever I want.
There's going to be 2-3 chapters left I think, dependin****g on how the next chapter goes.
I'll** **try to update as soon as I can and that's all I can promise. I love you
all!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter `tis not mine-eth.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 19: All My Trials

“Oh, um, of course.” Cedric said, though the looks Hermione was shooting him almost convinced
him not to speak at all. “Harry, this is my friend Mia Morgan.”

Fighting to keep a passive face, Hermione turned to face Harry and her breath was nearly taken
from her. Seeing him this close to her made her feel things she hadn't in months. Their eyes
met and she found herself quickly becoming lost in them.

“It's an honor, your highness.” She said with as even of a tone as she could muster.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He said as he grabbed her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. Her
heart fluttered. She could feel the desire to grab him and hold him tight well up inside herself
but she held it back as he pulled away.

“And please, call me Harry.”

She smiled.

*Hold yourself together, Hermione.* She thought to herself. *You're going to ruin the
entire plan* *if you keep this up. It's just Harry.*

*Yeah, a Harry that you haven't seen for months! Harry whom you miss and love and—*

*Stop it!* Her internal reason shouted at her dangerous thought train. *Keep calm as act
normal. If you're lucky, he'll leave and you can make a quick escape.*

*But I don't want him to leave…*

*Of course you don't, but you have to!*

As Hermione's internal battle raged on, Harry was having one of his own. She looked even
more familiar up close. Was she part of the hierarchy of Hufflepuff? She could have easily been
present at one of the many balls he had attended throughout his life. But no, that couldn't be
it. He knew everyone of royal blood in Hogwarts by name, especially those close to his own age.
Could she be a servant in the Hufflepuff castle that Cedric had brought to accompany him? He had
visited the castle many times and Cedric didn't strike him as the type to court someone based
on anything but perhaps their beauty. And this woman was absolutely dazzling.

Finally, the curiosity got to him.

“Have we met before?” He asked.

Mia looked surprised - floored, even. He immediately regretted asking in the first place.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.” He quickly amended. “You just… you look very
familiar.”

“N-no. No it's fine.” Her expression turned to one of thought as she thought on his inquiry.
“I don't believe we have. Not formally at least.”

*Well that certainly narrows it down*, Harry thought cynically. He decided to take a
different approach. “Have you seen *me* before?”

“Of course I have.” She said, waving her hand about as if it was the most obvious answer. When
Harry looked at her in question, her face colored slightly. “You're the crowned prince - I
mean, *king* - of Gryffindor. Anyone with access to the archives could see your portrait.”

Harry spirits dwindled slightly. “Ah, I see.”

“I'm sorry, your highness.” She said. “Just one of those faces, I suppose.”

“Yes I suppose so.” He agreed. Perhaps he was just mistaken.

It didn't make sense. There were hundreds of familiar faces in the crowd yet he was drawn
specifically to hers. He had seen royalty, Court representatives, ladies and lords alike that he
had run into at some point in the past hidden in the crowd. But she, this Mia Morgan, was proving
to be the most difficult to place. He could let it go and not think anything of it. He had many new
responsibilities and other duties he could busy himself with, after all. Mia was not the only
unknown person to be present at his coronation. He could easily forget about her and carry on with
the evening. In fact, that's exactly what he was going to do.

Until he saw her bite her lip.

“Hermione.”

Cedric choked on the drink he had picked up during their conversation. Mia looked absolutely
floored.

“I - I beg your pardon?” She asked with a shaky voice.

“You look *exactly* like my friend Hermione. Save for the blonde hair and eye color
obviously. But still, the resemblance is uncanny.” He said, relieved that he had finally figured it
out. He had been drawn to this woman because she looked like Hermione. It all made sense!

Then, as he thought about it for a moment, he realized how discourteous he was being. If Mia
looked like anyone else he wouldn't have bothered asking Cedric to introduce them until it was
necessary. He wouldn't have taken a special interest in her at all. She would be just another
guest that he wouldn't think twice about.

“I'm sorry.” He said. “I—Ë®

“It's alright.” She said. “Cedric told me about what happened. She was banished from
Gryffindor a few months ago, wasn't she? That's why she couldn't be here.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah.”

“You must miss her.”

He looked her in the eyes. She appeared to be genuinely curious and concerned. He nodded with a
frown. “I miss her terribly.”

She reached out and touched him on the shoulder. “I'm sure the feeling is mutual and that
her thoughts are with you.”

He looked at her hand and then back at her. He smiled and grabbed her hand holding it out in
front of them and squeezing it. “I certainly hope so.”

She smiled and released his hand. It had been warm and comforting in his grasp.

As soon as Mia's hand fell to her side, it snapped up to her stomach. Her face became pale
within a matter of seconds and she looked at both men as she spoke. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Before Harry could ask what was the matter she was halfway to the exit. He looked at Cedric with
a raised brow. The Hufflepuff shrugged. “She'll be alright. I'm sure it's nothing.”

Harry nodded. Cedric knew this woman more than he did so he chose not to think much about it.
Instead, he brought up the topic that had been in the back of his mind all day. “How's
Hermione?”

Cedric tore his gaze from the doorway and nodded at Harry. “She's good. It tore her up that
she couldn't accompany me, of course. Nearly threw a fit before I calmed her down.”

Harry nodded. “We both know that it wouldn't be a good idea regardless. No matter how much I
wanted to see her face in the crowd I knew that even if I did it wouldn't have made for a
pretty scene.”

Cedric smirked. “She sends her congratulations and her gift is among the sea of others in the
drawing room.”

Harry nodded solemnly. He knew what her real coronation present had been and it was already
right here in the castle - the hidden tower just above the library. He had been up there countless
times since the verdict had been passed when he wasn't in his room. It made for a quiet place
to sit and think - recall the better times and strengthen his will to bring her home.

Today had marked another step in the fight to recall the sentence on Hermione. The election for
the new head of the Court was to take place a week from tonight and Harry was now one of the top
contenders with his new status as king. Their campaign was running strong and everything was
heading in just the right direction save for one ominous fact. They still didn't have any leads
on who had caused this upset in the first place.

“Send her my thanks and love in return. I'm sure it's a marvelous present.”

“It is, your highness.” Cedric said.

He had been with her when she picked it out. It had been her side project aside from her work
and the fight to return to Gryffindor. She had originally wanted to get him something that he could
use as king but one day when they had been walking through the shops in Hufflepuff, she spotted
what she thought to be the perfect gift that was now wrapped up and hidden among the others.

Mia rejoined them soon after, her cheeks now as pink as carnations.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked.

“Much better now, thank you.” She said.

Harry held back his curiosity because it looked as though she was going to say nothing more on
the subject. In his silence he did notice that she still had her hand clutched to her stomach,
though it was obvious that she was no longer in pain of any sort. If she hadn't have turned to
Cedric and moved her hand at just the right angle he wouldn't have noticed the bump concealed
quite efficiently beneath the layers of her dress. She was with child.

“I'm going to get another drink. You want anything?” He asked, looking at Harry and Mia
respectively.

Harry shook his head as Mia quickly spoke. “I can get the drinks, Cedric.”

“No, it's alright. You just stay here and keep Harry company.” He kissed her briefly on the
top of her head and left, leaving her glaring at him in his wake.

A long silence followed his departure. Harry could have said a million things to ease the
tension but instead he spoke without thinking and said the first thing on his mind.

“So is Cedric the father?”

Mia's head snapped toward him, her eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

Harry's face turned read. “Sorry I - I know it's none of my business but your hand has
been on your stomach since you returned and it's ruined the façade of your dress.”

Mia remained speechless, her eyes flickering down at where he had mentioned.

“Sorry.” He repeated. “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

She didn't answer for a moment. In the few seconds it took for her to speak Harry felt the
embarrassment and guilt wash over him like a cold bucket of water. How could he have been so
insensitive? It was obvious he had made her very uncomfortable. Why couldn't he have picked
something more neutral to say rather than address something that he had no right to point out? What
if he had been wrong in his conclusion?

“N-no.” She said warily.

He looked at her. “No it wasn't supposed to be a secret?”

“Well, yes - I mean no, it wasn't necessarily supposed to be a secret. Though I suppose I
gained enough attention when I glued my hand to stomach. The little bugger hasn't stopped
kicking all night.” Harry smiled at that. “But what I mean was no, Cedric isn't the father.
He's just a good friend.”

“Ah,” Harry responded. “May I ask where the father is?”

“You may.” She answered with a small smile. It waned, though, when she began to speak. “He's
away on business.”

Harry nodded in affirmation. “It must be hard being without him. He must be torn that he
can't be with you when you're like this. And at a ball no less.”

Mia avoided his eyes.

“What is it?” He asked lowly.

“Truth is…” She paused for a moment but then looked back up at him and continued. “Truth is he
doesn't know I'm pregnant. At this rate I don't know if he'll ever know.”

“Why ever not?” Harry asked. “How long has he been away on business?”

“Only a few months.”

He narrowed his brow. “He isn't a jerk or anything is he?”

She chuckled. “No, he's far from that. He's wonderful.”

He looked at her oddly. “Then why doesn't he know?”

“I have my reasons.” She said quietly, looking at him with a strange expression.

“Do you love him?”

“Very much.”

“And are you feeling reciprocated?”

“Wholeheartedly.” She replied with a small smile.

“I won't ask anymore. I've pestered you enough.” He said. “But would you like to know my
opinion?”

She looked up at him curiously. “Sure.”

“A father should never be kept away from his child. Especially if it's being carried by a
woman he loves.”

She looked at him, her eyes shining. “Harry, I—Ë®

“Harry, *there* you are!” A high-pitched voice said loudly from beside them.

The pair turned and saw Clara's bright face smiling at Harry. He returned her smile and
greeted her warmly. “Hello, Clara.”

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything.” She said, looking briefly at Mia.

“Oh, umm…” Harry started, looking back at the blonde.

“No, it's quite alright. I'm sure I've used up quite enough of your time as it is.”
Mia said with a soft smile.

Harry looked at her with an apologetic expression. “I'm sure we'll see each other
again.”

Mia nodded. “That we shall.”

As she watched Harry being dragged off by Clara she felt a weight drift off of her shoulders.
She had been so close to revealing the truth to Harry and they hadn't even been speaking for
more than a few minutes. Not only had he nearly recognized her, playing it off as a striking
resemblance, but he had noticed that she was with child. She was treading on dangerous waters.

“Where did Harry go?” Cedric asked, coming to stand next to her.

“Clara dragged him off somewhere.” She said noncommittally. “And good thing she did, too. I
almost blew my cover.”

“How?” He asked, surprised.

“You left me *alone* with him, that's how!” She said scathingly.

“Sorry.” He said. “I was thirsty.”

She glared at him and turned to the party. She saw Harry and Clara dancing in the crowd and
sighed. They were talking and swaying along with the music. How she longed to be that way with him
right now. But it was too dangerous. Another moment alone with him would be detrimental to her
plan.

“We have to leave.” She said suddenly.

“What, now? But the party just started.”

“I know but I can't risk being found out.”

“Hermione, he has hundreds of more people to see. I doubt that you'll see him again
tonight.” Cedric said, taking a sip of his drink.

“There's still a chance.” She said. “I risked enough when he came to talk to us. There's
too much of a chance that he might find me out. I'm sorry but we have to leave.”

Cedric sighed. “You're right of course. I still can't believe that he recognized you.
Well, not entirely, but enough for him to compare you to *yourself*.” He chuckled. “Looks like
blonde hair can only go so far.”

“Duly noted.” She said, her eyes drifting back to the crowd of dancing royalty.

Cedric looked at her and followed her gaze to Harry and Clara on the ballroom floor. He sighed
and looped his arm around hers. “Come on, princess. Let's get you to bed.”

She tore her eyes away from the dancing couple and smiled up at Cedric. Together they left the
ballroom in silence, Hermione turning back only once.

Later in the night Harry would look for the woman he knew as Mia, wanting to find out what she
was about to say before Clara had taken him to the dance floor, only to come up empty handed. She
had disappeared into the night, never to be seen or heard by him again.

~*~

*One week later…*

Harry had been pacing his study for hours. The first week of his kinghood had gone smoothly.
Mostly he had to fill out paperwork and move his things into Sirius's old chambers. He now had
access to parts of the castle he didn't even know existed, which he planned to take full
advantage of at a later date. For the past few days his mind had been set on the election and the
one thing that was getting him through it.

Harry had spotted Hermione's coronation gift right away. Firstly, it was wrapped in
periwinkle trimmings, her favorite color. And secondly, hers was the only one with a tag that read
*To: Harry* in her familiar intricate hand. She had obviously made no real effort to hide her
gift from him and for that he was thankful. He had yet to open it, wanting to save it for today -
something to override the pressure of the election.

“Harry, the meeting starts in ten minutes.” Sirius said from his place in one of the plush
chairs by the fire.

“I know.” He said irately.

“You have nothing to be nervous about.” Sirius said. “The odds are in your favor and everyone
knows it. The debate and overall election will be a breeze.”

The negative thoughts that had been welling up inside of his head for the past few weeks paired
with his growing impatience suddenly burst forth. “Yeah but what if it's all for nothing?”
Harry said, his voice rising. “What if this new position does nothing? We haven't had
*any* leads. Whoever did this is laughing in our faces right now!”

“Harry we've talked about this.” Sirius said calmly. “The position will open up enough doors
so that we may not even have to find the person who did this to revoke the sentence. Shouldn't
that be enough for the moment?”

Harry looked at him sternly.

“*For the moment*.” Sirius repeated.

Harry sighed and stopped in his tracks, irritation waning. “It is, I suppose.”

“Then stop your worrying. You can dwell on all of this after tonight.”

Harry looked at his godfather. “I always worry, you should know that.”

“Of course I do.” He said softly. “Thus is the burden of being Harry Potter.”

Harry smirked. “Shut up.”

“There he is!” Sirius said with a laugh. “Now are you going to tell me what's in the box or
am I just going to sit here and think about it for another hour?”

He turned to the parcel sitting upon his desk. “It's Hermione coronation present.”

“She sent you a present? But I thought she didn't send anything with Cedric.” Sirius said in
puzzlement.

“She did, I just haven't opened it yet.” He said. “I wanted to wait for the proper moment…
have something without any possible negative outcomes to look forward to.”

“There's no need to be so pessimistic, Harry.” Sirius said. “A positive outlook should be
what you are striving towards, trumping anything negative that might block your way.”

“It has been harder and harder to think that way since the trial.” Harry said solemnly. “Even if
this is the big step we need I can't help but think that because so many horrible things have
happened in the past… this day shouldn't be any different.”

“What are you talking about? Of course this is different!” Sirius said, standing up and walking
closer to Harry. “Today is the day where you will win the power to bring Hermione back to us, end
of story. Now stop moping and open the goddamned gift before I throw it at your thick skull!”

Harry was taken aback at Sirius's tone but knew that he had a point. Sulking around
wasn't going to get him anywhere. He was going to get through the election today and he was
going to bring Hermione home.

Snatching up the gift, he ripped open the coverings and uncovered a wooden box. He opened the
flap and his breath caught. He pulled out an oval-shaped metal box painted gold. It had green and
black worked into trimmings and had a string of pearls drooping along the perimeter. Flowers of
green and red were painted on the side amongst swirls of golden adornments ornately carved into the
metal.

It was so beautiful that a part of him didn't want to open it. But, of course, curiosity got
the best of him and he moved his hand to open it only to discover it was locked. He tugged harder
but it remained shut. Sighing, he grabbed his wand and whispered “*Accio*.”

It wouldn't budge. He tried a few more powerful unlocking charms on it, sometimes causing it
to wiggle but never to the point of opening. Irritated, he slammed the contraption on the table.
Sirius came to stand beside him and looked at it curiously.

“Perhaps it's just for decoration?” He suggested.

“Perhaps.” Harry said.

Sirius sighed and began cleaning up the wrappings. He was about to banish the lot to the waste
bin when he saw something at the bottom of the first wooden box that the present had been concealed
in. Reaching inside, he pulled out a piece of parchment with Harry's name written atop it.

“Harry? There's a note.”

Harry turned to face his godfather and upon seeing the note proceeded to snatch it out of his
grip within a second. It was in Hermione's handwriting and only had a single sentence:

*I will only open with the key that is close to my giver's heart.*

Hermione had the key. Harry smiled at her cleverness and turned to Sirius, who had been watching
him with anticipation as he read the letter. He handed the note to him and the elder wizard read
with a smirk. Their eyes met as Sirius finished the letter and Harry grinned.

“Let's go win an election.”

-->



20. The Shadow of Your Smile
----------------------------



**A/N: Okay so it's been a little over a month but don't kill me just yet! There's
a good two chapters to go and if I play my cards right I should be finished with this story sooner
rather than later. I don't want to jinx it, though, so I'll let you get to reading. Thank
you to all who have stuck around through this story! I know I've lost a lot of readers and
reviewers by not updating as frequently as I used to but that's something that I've come to
accept. I hope those of you who are still left will stick around for just a bit longer as this
story comes to an end.** **I love you guys!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. At all. So shut it.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 20: The Shadow of a Smile

“Hermione! Hermione! *HERMIONE!*”

Hermione groaned and grabbed the pillow next to her to place it securely over her face. “Go
away.” She mumbled tiredly into its fluffy depths.

Loud knocking began sounding in the direction of her door and she held the pillow more firmly in
her fists. “No. It's too early.”

“Hermione I'm coming in!”

The voice belonged to Cedric, of course. Still it did nothing for her grogginess. She had been
kept up half the night trying to get comfortable in bed. Her inflating stomach was making it
increasingly harder to perform everyday tasks and after last night that included the one reprieve
she looked forward to at the end of the day whenever she could manage it. She already didn't
get enough sleep as it was and now her melon-shaped abdomen was making sure that she would never
get so much as a wink ever again.

The door flung open and slammed loudly against the wall causing Hermione to nearly fall off of
her mattress. She rose up, still dazed, and flung the pillow she had been holding as hard as she
could manage. She heard the muffled moment of impact as it hit Cedric square in the face.

“Ow!” He exclaimed, clutching his nose. “What did you do that for?”

“Usually when someone tells you `Go away' or `It's too early,' it usually means
bugger off!” She shouted.

Cedric was taken aback. The smile he had entered the room with was now wiped away and replaced
with a confused expression. Hermione's shouting not only made him flinch and loose his happy
exterior but also drew more attention to her unusually ragged appearance. The typically quiet and
polite Lady Hermione seemed to be replaced with something resembling an angry troll. The
imposter's hair was in disarray and it had large bags underneath its eyes, a striking contrast
to her usually creamy skin. Paired with the look she was giving him he wouldn't be surprised if
steam began to pour out of her nostrils.

“What happened to you?” He asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

He made a gesture towards her. “You look like you've been eaten and then spit out by a
hobgoblin.”

“Oh thanks. That's *exactly* how a girl wants to be woken up in the morning.” Hermione
said, her tone dripping heavily with sarcasm.

Cedric's eyes widened. “No I didn't mean—Ë®

She pressed on in a mocking-male tone. “Oh, morning Hermione! Did I mention you look utterly
*horrid* this morning? Is that a new body odor I smell? Truly disgusting. Well done!”

“Hermione I didn't mean it like that.” Cedric said hurriedly. “You look positively radiant
this morning!”

Hermione's lip began to tremble as her eyes began to shine with the threat of tears. “Now
you're lying to me? I thought you were my friend!”

Suddenly, she fell backwards and pulled the sheets over her head. He heard her begin to cry and
rushed over to her side.

“Hermione… Hermione I *am* your friend. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you.
Honest. You know I think you're beautiful in every way imaginable. Please don't cry. Come
on, Princess.” He began to gently stroke the bit of hair that was peeking out from beneath her
hideout, hoping it would sooth her.

After a few sniffles, she resurfaced from underneath the covers. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do, darling.” He said, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

She wiped at her eyes and nose before looking up at him. “I'm sorry, Cedric. I didn't
mean to lash out. It must be the hormones or something.”

“It's alright.” He said, giving her a small smile. “I shouldn't have said anything.”

She leaned her head into his chest. “Yeah. You should just refrain from speaking to me before
breakfast.”

He chuckled and squeezed her briefly. “I take it you didn't get much rest?”

“I never get enough rest.” She said plainly. “My unborn child, however, is seeing fit to never
have me come close to closing my eyes again.”

“I'm sorry, love.” He said sympathetically. “Perhaps we can get Celine to draft you a
baby-friendly sleeping draft?”

“That would be heavenly.” Hermione said.

Cedric detached himself from her and moved off of the bed. “I'll tell her right away.”

“Thank you.” She said with a tired smile.

She watched him leave with a more serene state of mind than when she first was disturbed from
her attempt at slumber. Honestly, what person in their right mind thought shouting was a good way
to rouse someone? There better have been a good reason, that's for sure.

It was then that Hermione realized she had no idea why Cedric had burst into her room in the
first place.

“Cedric!” She called out.

He was back inside her room in the span of a few seconds. “Yes, Hermione?”

“Was there a reason you decided to personally wake me up this morning or am I going to have to
brush up on my hexing?”

“Oh! Right!” Cedric said, his face lighting up like a newly *Incendio*'d candle.
“I've just received news from Gryffindor.”

Hermione's heart welled at the sound of her homeland. She tried to remain calm, however, and
spoke in a blasé tone. “Go on.”

“Harry won the election. He's head of the Court.” He said with a large grin.

“Harry won… Harry won the election?” She asked in disbelief. When she saw Cedric nod his head
enthusiastically she screamed. “Harry won the election!”

She scrambled out of bed and practically knocked Cedric over. He steadied the both of them
against the frame of the door and tried not to hold her too tightly. “He held ninety percent of the
overall votes. Apparently his speech was so heartfelt and persuasive that all but one other
candidate dropped out.”

Hermione pulled away, her eyes shining bright with joy.

“That's incredible.” She said. “Who was the candidate who didn't drop out? Was it Lucius
again?”

“Surprisingly not. It was some representative from Ravenclaw.”

“Huh.” Hermione said, vaguely put off.

“Apparently he was a newly elected member of the Court with a lot of connections. He would have
been a shoe-in for Head if Harry hadn't completely awed the voters. My father said a few
members actually shed a tear.”

Hermione's smile widened. “I can't say I'm not surprised. Harry has always had a way
with words that even I cannot fully comprehend. Sirius says he got it from his father.” She shook
her head with a tiny laugh. “I wish I had been there to see it.”

“That makes two of us.” Cedric said ruefully. “I still can't believe I'm not eligible to
vote. My father is about to resign and I've been to enough meetings to know the protocol.”

“I'm sure you're more than qualified.” Hermione assured him with a kind smile. “Your
time will come soon enough.”

He nodded with a sigh. “You're right, of course.” He looked down into her shining eyes and
smiled softly. “But now is not the time to wallow in my pitiful sorrows. Now that Harry's been
elected Head of the Council things will definitely take a turn.”

She nodded. “It's one step further.”

He observed her face for a moment and saw a flicker of something other than her initial
enthusiasm flash across her delicate features. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, still
keeping his smile intact. She looked up at him. With one short gaze her happy demeanor melted away
into a docile sadness.

“Don't start over thinking again, Hermione.” Cedric said quietly. “You'll be back with
Harry in no time at all and everything will be perfect.”

“I know, I know.” She said. “But now that we're so close… what if the new position does
nothing? What if Harry gets recalled after a political uprising and the Ravenclaw gets the job?
What if—Ë®

“No. No `what if's.” Cedric cut her off firmly. “I know that you're including all of the
possible outcomes of this one development but the best thing for you right now is to just let
yourself relax. We just made major progress - more than we have in months. You should focus on that
rather than what the highly unlikely negative outcomes may reveal themselves to be in the
future.”

Hermione sighed. Everything he said was true. She should be ecstatic. She *was* a few
minutes ago but then she began to do what she always did - think too much. Harry just accomplished
something that would send them on the road to her return to Gryffindor. She should just focus on
that and not allow her thought process go any further unless it was being used to research and
further their progress.

Slowly she stood on her toes and gave Cedric a brief kiss on his cheek. “I'm going to the
library.” She said firmly. “It always serves as a nice reprieve from unhappy thoughts. Get me when
Celine finishes breakfast?”

“Of course.” He said with a smile.

She nodded and turned around, craning her head to the side and gave him a playful smirk. “Well
bugger off, then. I need to get dressed.”

Cedric chuckled and left the room with a swift turn. He closed the door behind him and made his
way downstairs and into the kitchen where Celine was already hard at work on breakfast. He felt his
mouth begin to water as the smell of smoking sausage and freshly baked bread filled his
nostrils.

Celine was facing a large brick stove and had her back to him. She was humming quietly to
herself as she worked. Cedric cleared his throat loud enough for her to hear and she turned around
to give him a tired smile. “Good morning, dearie. Did you give Hermione the good news?”

“I did.” He said.

“And how did she take it?” she asked, turning back to the stove.

“She was ecstatic at first, naturally.” He said, leaning his back up against one of the nearby
countertops.

“I'm sensing a `but.'” Celine said knowingly.

“But then she started over thinking and worrying herself all over again.” He said
disapprovingly.

“The poor girl.” She said softly, turning another piece of sausage on its side. “She's too
clever for her own good.”

“That she is.” He agreed. “But she has a fair point. Now that Harry is Head of the Court we have
a whole new set of obstacles in the way of getting her home. We don't know how long it will
take to find any information worthwhile. It may take months… *years*, even. The law of the
kingdom is very extensive, not to mention we have barely any leads on who caused this upset in the
first place.”

Celine turned around with a disapproving glare. “Now don't you go and get all melancholy as
well. Hermione is carrying that burden enough for the rest of us. Not to mention her rising hormone
levels. The poor girl must be an emotional wreck. The last thing she needs is a pessimistic comrade
to make her feel worse. Merlin, boy, you could give the poor child a heart attack!”

Cedric's eyes widened. “I could?”

“Well,” Celine said, waving her wooden spatula around in thought. “I don't think it would be
that extreme. But you could still heighten her blood pressure and risk harming the child in her
womb. Imagine if the king found out.” She continued cynically. “He would come after you with a
sword in his hand and murder in his eyes.”

Cedric gulped. “That's even worse.”

Celine nodded firmly, sobering up her tone. “So don't screw it up. Be positive. Help her
face these horrible circumstances with a smile and enthusiasm.” Cedric looked at her blankly and
she pointed her spatula at him warningly. “Got it?”

“Yes ma'am.” He said, his pitch wavering.

“Good.” She said. “Now off you pop. Breakfast is almost ready and Hermione needs some food in
her stomach if she wants to make it through the day. Poor girl never gets enough sleep.”

“Speaking of which,” Cedric said, remembering why he came down in the first place. “Hermione is
in need of a baby-safe sleeping draft.”

She narrowed her brow. “I thought she said she didn't need one.”

“Well now she does.” Cedric said flippantly. “She didn't get a wink of sleep last night and
she thinks it's the baby.”

“Ah.” Celine said in understanding. “I'll get right on that after breakfast.”

“Thank you.” Cedric said kindly. “And thank you again for covering cooking duty for Annabelle.
She should be back in a week or so.”

“It's no trouble. I just hope my cooking is adequate enough to feed this house of
ever-eating carnivores.”

“It's more than adequate. It's delicious.” Cedric said, continuing in a whisper. “And
for the record, I like your peppered eggs much more than Annabelle's.”

Celine blanched, shooing him with her cooking utensil. “Oh hush, you big sweet talker. Now hurry
up and fetch our one and a half guests before my amazing peppered eggs get cold”

Cedric flashed her a winning smile before exiting the kitchen. When he reached the library he
wasn't surprised to see it already looking like a war zone. When Hermione wanted to use the
library as an escape she did it right. Books were spread out across the large table in the middle
of the room resembling a rainbow of sorts. Papers were stacked atop and around them in what he knew
to be some organizational method that only she knew. Multiple pots filled with different colored
inks were pushed to the side with quills of matching feather colors lying beside them. He looked at
the sight with a wry smile.

Her head craned up to meet his gaze as soon as she heard his footsteps. She was wearing a
curious expression on her face that Cedric could not place. “You alright?” he asked.

She nodded slowly, placing the quill that had been clutched in her hand down gently. “I think… I
think I may have found something.”

Cedric looked at her with a stupefied expression on his face. When he saw her pick up a piece of
parchment and hold it out to him he sputtered. “You wh - already?!”

“Well I… I'm not certain. But I think it may be something.” She sputtered.

He stepped forward and took the parchment out of her hand. He scanned her neatly written,
color-coded notes and narrowed his eyebrows. Looking back up at her, he saw her anxious face and
spoke with a baffled expression.

“Hermione this looks like a background check of Dmitri Sondheim.”

She nodded. “He was the opposing runner against Harry in the election.”

“Right.” He said slowly. “But what has he got to do with anything?”

She sighed in exasperation and quickly got up from her seat to stand next to him. She pointed to
a short paragraph towards the middle of the document written in bright red ink. “This here says
that Mister Sondheim never had any association with the Court before three months ago when he was
hastily elected to replace Hayden Zimmer, the forty-five, nowhere near retirement, Ravenclaw
representative.”

“Okay…” Cedric said, still not making the connection.

Hermione sighed and continued, tracing her finger an inch down the page where she had written a
list of surnames and circled a select few along with drawing lines between them in green ink. One
name in particular stood out, for it was circled heavily with contrasting red ink: Fowl.

“These were the listed hierarchy names that elected and voted Sondheim into the Court. The
election…” She pointed to a date written in blue ink, “was a month after I had been banished.
Exactly a month.”

Cedric looked at her with a bewildered expression. “You think this has some sort of connection
with your banishment?”

“I do.” She said, speaking rapidly. “It may be nothing and simply coincidental but I think
it's enough to inform the others about. The Fowls never liked me, I could tell. Elizabeth
wanted to push her daughter onto Harry and get me completely out of the picture. Clara isn't a
cardholder in the election process until her twenty-first birthday but I highly doubt she would
have the capacity to pull off such an elaborate scheme, let alone keep it a secret. If either of
them had a hand in my banishment it would have to be Elizabeth.”

“You think that she would go so far as to get you *banished*?” Cedric asked. “Isn't
that a bit extreme?”

“I know, I know. It's crazy but it makes more sense than anything else we have come up with
in all of our other research. From the beginning I've done my best to overlook my biases and
completely write out the Fowl's because of my feelings towards them but now I think we've
passed that point.”

Cedric nodded. A thought crossed his mind and he looked at her as she set the parchment back
onto the table. “How did you think to research Sondheim?”

Hermione blushed. She looked at him with a meek expression. “I wanted to see what idiot in their
right mind would run against Harry.”

Cedric laughed. Hermione joined him and after they began to cool down he led them to a set of
plush chairs by the fireplace in the corner of the room. Hermione sat herself down with a short
struggle to remain balanced. Cedric's eyes drifted to her stomach where he could easily see the
growing bump protruding from her dress robes. She followed his gaze as she sat more comfortably in
her seat and, almost self-consciously, put a hand atop it.

“Sorry it's just… he's growing so fast.” Cedric marveled.

“Or she.” She corrected. Cedric chuckled lightly. “But yes… it's quite remarkable, isn't
it?”

“A miracle.” He responded.

She began to rub the spot where the baby had been kicking earlier during her research as she
thought out loud. “I wish Harry could be here to see this.”

“He will be.” Cedric said reassuringly, reaching over to put a hand on her knee. “After this
discovery you've made, I'm sure you'll be back in Gryffindor by the month's
end.”

Hermione smiled sadly. “I hope you're right. I want him to be here with me… to help.”

Cedric looked at her placidly.

“I mean, it's fantastic having you and Celine around to help me but I just wish that he
could be here as well.” She continued, her tone getting more weighed down by sadness with every
word she spoke. “It kills me to not tell him. Every day I wake up and the baby is a day closer to
being here and Harry is losing one more day to watch how fast it's growing.”

“You said yourself it was for the best.” Cedric said, trying his hardest to steer her away from
letting her impending tears escape.

“I know I did and I still do.” She said. “It's just getting harder to remember why and to be
strong enough to keep moving forward when all I want to do is go back to the way it was.”

Cedric sighed softly and leaned forward, connecting their gazes. “Hermione you are the strongest
person I know. And soon - very, very, soon - you will get the happy ending you deserve. Look at the
progress you made within ten minutes of finding out Harry was elected! That's incredible!”

Hermione blushed.

“If you can achieve this much with a baby on the way and banishment from your home weighing you
down, imagine what will happen when everything plays out. You'll raise your child with Harry,
be in love, and do amazing things that will change the world.”

Hermione's cheeks turned a deeper shade of scarlet as tears began to roll down her face.
Cedric didn't worry, though. Because behind her tears he saw a shadow of a smile that he
hadn't seen in weeks.

“You're too kind to me, Cedric. I don't deserve a friend like you.” She said, her voice
beginning to waver.

“Darling, you deserve much greater than I.” Cedric said with a humble upturn of his lips. “Now
get up and give me a hug, eh?”

Without hesitation, they both rose from their seats and met each other in a warm embrace.
Hermione's sniffles were the only sound that filled the room as they stood there without
speaking. Cedric didn't know how much time had passed but he knew that Celine wouldn't mind
them being late for breakfast when a teary-eyed Hermione was at his side.

After a while, Cedric decided to break the silence with a question he thought would be better
answered while he still had her in his arms. “So what are you going to do next?”

Hermione sucked in a breath and said something she never would have imagined she would say in a
thousand millennia.

“I'm going to invite Clara to tea.”
 Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7
-->



21. Thy Kingdom Come
--------------------



**A/N: Almost done! One or two more chapters to go and then this story will come to a close.
It's definitely bittersweet but this has been one of** **my hardest stories to finish.
It's all** **college****'s fault****. Damn education. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the
chapter! Thank you so much to those who have stuck around with this story. And to those who are
just now finding it - welcome and thanks for giving it a chance!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn'****t mine****.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 21: Thy Kingdom Come

The table was set, the tea was made. All that was left was the guest of honor.

Hermione didn't know how to feel. Nervous? Perhaps. Antsy? Definitely. With the ever
approaching arrival of Clara Fowl her emotions as well as her brain didn't know how to
function. She had sent out the invitation two weeks ago and had gotten a stealthy reply with a
request to meet in Ravenclaw on the day of the next Court meeting.

At first Hermione thought about writing a bit fat “NO.” in blood red ink as a reply. *The next
Court meeting?* Was she *insane*?

The letter Clara had written her explained that she was not permitted to leave Ravenclaw unless
checking in with her mother. More times than not she was always rejected permission in the past.
Her mother always found a reason to keep her close and if Hermione's request was as urgent as
she made it, she didn't want to take any risks by asking permission to leave.

At first Hermione was furious. She had invited *her* for tea, not the other way around.
Didn't Clara know that travelling out of her safe haven was equally as dangerous? Of course she
did. She was there at the trial. She knew what the stakes were. Why, then, was she playing the
victim?

Then Hermione realized that Harry would be there. He would be in the same kingdom, maybe even
the same building. The baby had kicked when her heart rate increased. He being there was an even
greater risk. She couldn't act rationally around him - that much was proven when she nearly
blew her cover at the coronation ball.

A million scenarios raced through her head: What if they ran into each other on the streets?
What if she found herself looking for him? What if she forgot to apply the disguise spells while
out in public?

What if her theory was right and she could confront Elizabeth in her home kingdom?

She confided her ponderings with Cedric. He shared the same sentiments as she did. He even
suggested he take her place and meet with Clara by himself. She refused. She had to be the one to
talk to her.

Back and forth letters and conversations went, trying to find a way to reach a happy medium.
With both Clara and Hermione's circumstances it was nearly impossible. One had to give up their
safety in order for this meeting to happen and, naturally, Hermione took it upon herself to relent
and go to Ravenclaw.

It was a decision that came with many consequences. Hermione had to convince both Cedric and
herself that this was the best option. What if Elizabeth ended up being the person they had been
after? They would be close enough to her to perpetrate her. The added bonus of the Court being
present in the kingdom aided that theory. The only thing working against them was Harry. He
couldn't know about their plan, especially the fact that he and Hermione would be within the
same kingdom walls.

And now here she was in the drawing room of the Fowl's estate. She had been assured that
Elizabeth was busy in the castle for the day, helping arrange things for the Court. She had been
greeted by a housemaid and directed into a plush seat by the fire. The maid said that Clara would
be with her shortly.

Hermione couldn't help but fiddle about with nerves. After a few days' journey on the
road paired with morning sickness and little to no sleep, she was beginning to resemble a walking
zombie. She had made sure to clean herself up for this meeting but spells could only go so far.

“Hermione?”

Her chair was positioned so that her back was to the door. She craned her neck and smiled
politely at the blonde witch. She returned the smile kindly and Hermione raised herself from the
chair to greet her properly. Clara got within a foot of her before stopping and gluing her eyes to
Hermione's stomach.

Oh, right. Hermione forgot to mention that little detail. In fact, it completely slipped her
mind whilst making arrangements.

“You're…” Clara stumbled to find the right words. “You're with child?”

“Yes.” Hermione said. “I forgot to mention that in the letters. I didn't think it was
important.”

“Not important?” Clara said, her eyes widening. “I just made you travel miles to meet with me
because I was afraid my mother would smack me on the wrist. If I had any idea—Ë®

“I would have come anyway.” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

“But why?” Clara asked, affronted.

“I'll get to that later.” Hermione said. “Let's just sit for now. I'll explain
everything.”

Clara nodded and they both sat down. Hermione looked at Clara with a curious expression. She
hadn't seemed to change a bit since the last time she saw her. She was still beautiful, poised,
and perfectly mannered. She was dressed in a periwinkle gown trimmed with white fabric and laced
with ribbon down the front. In comparison, Hermione felt dressed down in her olive green burlap
sack of a dress.

“The tea should be ready soon.” Clara said.

Hermione nodded. A long silence was threatening to take hold and she knew she had to stop it
before she lost her nerve.

“Clara, you must know that I wouldn't have come to you unless it was absolutely urgent.”

“Of course,” She nodded. “I know you're not very fond of me so when I got your letter I was
a bit shocked.”

Hermione's face softened. Hearing Clara speak the feelings she had towards her wasn't
something she was prepared to hear. The soft and yet blunt tint of her tone brought Hermione into
perspective. She must be feeling just as awkward as she, if not more so. This gave her the
confidence to continue speaking.

“It's about my banishment. I think your mother may have had something to do with it.”

Clara's expression turned stony. “Why would you think that?”

Hermione reached to her side and brought out her notes that she had compiled the day of
Harry's election. She handed them to her and continued to speak. “I found a connection to
Mister Sondheim's vote into the Court and my trial. They are exactly a month apart and your
mother is on the list of people who nominated him. I am aware that it may just be a coincidence
but—Ë®

“Dmitri?” Clara interrupted, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. She looked up at Hermione
oddly. “Dmitri Sondheim?”

“Yes.” Hermione said. “The new Ravenclaw representative in the Court. The one who ran against
Harry in the election.”

Clara looked at Hermione with a thoughtful expression, as if she were trying to solve a riddle.
“My mother and he have been spending a lot of time together these past few months. He's at the
house all the time. I just thought he was a close friend of the family or something.”

“You didn't know he was a member of the Court?” Hermione asked.

Clara blushed, averting her eyes. “I usually don't pay attention to politics. I find it all
way to confusing and somewhat of a mind-bender.”

“Well you're right on that.” Hermione said with a cynical bite. “I don't know what's
going through their minds half the time. It's as if their job to make the four kingdoms a more
confusing and complicated place to live.”

“My thoughts exactly!” Clara said. “When my mother started to get involved I tried to stay as
far away as I possibly could. I feared if I got wrapped up in it all I may not escape.”

“I know what you mean.” Hermione said.

Clara looked to be pondering for a moment before speaking. “You think Dmitri and my mother have
something to do with your banishment?”

“Yes. Well, your mother mostly. Dmitri didn't get involved until after I was already gone. I
think she may have partnered up with him to stop Harry from winning the election.”

Clara nodded slowly. She began to look distressed and Hermione felt panic begin to well up.

“Forgive me if I'm speaking out of term.” Hermione said quickly. “I know me accusing your
mother of such a thing may be hard for you to understand and I will leave if you ask me to.”

“No, no don't leave.” Clara said quickly. “Truth be told, I have been noticing my mother
acting a bit strangely ever since the Freedom Ball. She seemed very eager to get Harry and me to
dance. I mean, she was always for me pursuing him, even before we came here. But it seemed like the
more we stayed in Gryffindor the more persistent she became.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. “Do you have any idea why?”

Clara pursed her lips. “It's been like this for a while. My mother has been trying to marry
me off ever since I became of age. I go along with it to humor her sometimes. Other times I write
it off and do things on my own. When I meet someone I like I do it on my terms. With Harry… she
seemed extra fond of him. I think it's because he's royalty.”

“Clara… are you saying your mother is trying to marry you off for the money?”

Clara shrugged. “Ever since my dad passed she's been conning her way into the hierarchy and
now that I'm old enough she wants me to do it as well. I keep allowing her to do it because in
some weird sense I think I may actually find my prince charming along the way. I know it's
silly but—Ë®

“It's not silly.” Hermione interrupted, surprising both herself and Clara by putting a hand
on the Ravenclaw's forearm. “Everyone deserves their soul mate. Who are we to judge how they go
about doing it?”

Clara smiled. “You're one of the lucky ones. You found Harry.”

Hermione pressed her lips together.

“Oh I'm sorry, let me explain.” Clara said swiftly. “I talked to Harry before his
coronation. I told him that I sensed the connection between the two of you from the start and
apologized for being so selfish in trying to pursue him.”

“You sensed our connection?” Hermione asked in bewilderment.

“Everyone within a hundred mile radius and a decent amount of common sense could.” She said with
a teasing smile. Her expression quickly darkened as her smile turned into a slight frown.
“Including my mother.”

Hermione narrowed her brow. “Do you think she was trying to get me out of the picture from the
start?”

“Not from the start, no.” Clara said. “Just when it became clear that you were a threat to her
plan to get Harry and me together. Oh, I can't believe her!”

“Well hang on. We still don't have proof.” Hermione said, though her stomach was beginning
to do flips.

“I could find some.” Clara said. “If my mother really did set you up there must be something
around the house that could help us. The one thing I do know about the political system is that you
must have evidence to set up a trial. You can't accuse someone without credentials.”

“Right.” Hermione confirmed. “Whoever set me up managed to plant my handkerchief in Harry's
bedroom. Without that I would have never been called to trial.”

Clara nodded. “I'll be sure to turn this place upside down.”

“That's very kind of you…” Hermione said.

Clara looked at her softly. “If my mother really did set you up I want to do everything in my
power to make it right. What happened to you was truly horrible and if I can do anything to help, I
will.”

Hermione's blank look caused Clara to speak up again in a monotone. “I understand if you
don't want my help. I haven't done anything to deserve it.”

After Clara said that, Hermione's perspective of her began to change somewhat dramatically.
She didn't know if it was because of what she said or how she said it but she didn't see
Clara as no long the threatening, overly bearing Ravenclaw that wanted to steal Harry away from
her. She was now becoming the kind-hearted and trustworthy ally that would help her win her life
with Harry back.

The old Hermione would have rejected her help in a heartbeat, playing Clara off as an accomplice
in the plot. But looking at her now, Hermione knew she could trust her. By some unknown
circumstance in the universe she knew that Clara wanted to genuinely help.

“I believe you.” She said, somewhat in shock of her newfound feelings.

Clara grinned. “I'm glad.”

The maid brought the tea in and Hermione helped herself to a few pastries off of the
accompanying tray. When Clara giggled she gave her a sheepish smile.

“Sorry. I swear I ate an hour ago. It seems like whenever I see food I either vomit or consume
the lot.”

Clara giggled once more and Hermione took a large bite out of a raspberry pastry. A comfortable
silence followed the two women as they ate and drank their tea. Clara was the first to break the
absence of sound with a blunt statement.

“It's Harry's isn't it?”

Hermione looked at Clara with a wide-eyed expression before calming. Of course she would think
that. She nodded her head. “Yes.”

Clara smiled. “I'm glad you found some time together before you left. Does he know?”

Hermione pressed her lips together before answering. She looked guiltily at Clara. “No.”

It was Clara's turn to go wide-eyed. “He doesn't? Why?”

“If he knew then he would risk everything, including his position as king, to find and be with
me.” Hermione explained with a sigh. “What kind of person would I be to ask that of him?”

“A normal hormonal mother-to-be.” Clara said.

Hermione chucked. “Well I'm far from that. No matter how much I wish he could be here with
me I know that if it would be for both of our benefits without any legal barriers. I can't rob
Gryffindor of the greatest king they've ever had, knowing that it was because of my selfish
intent.”

“Selfish?” Clara asked, confused. “Hermione, wanting the father of your child to be with you
while you wait for he or she to enter the world isn't selfish. It's normal. I wouldn't
blame you if you rushed over to the castle right now and showed him how much you need him.”

“I just can't afford to think like that.” Hermione said with a sad smile, thankful for
Clara's enthusiasm. “If we're lucky that may happen within the next few days. If we can
find proof that your mother falsely accused me while the Court is still here we can hold a trial
and prove her guilty. It would falsify my trial and banishment once and for all.”

Clara looked at Hermione, her face molding into one of determination. “Then we'd better get
a move on.”

~*~

The Court meeting was well underway. Harry and Sirius had been hard at work compiling evidence
and still had not come up of anything of value. He was set to meet with Cedric after the meeting
concluded to see if he had any good news for him. After the hectic schedule he had endured the last
few weeks he hoped that the Hufflepuff had some good news.

Being Head of the Council turned out to be a lot more of a burden than he originally planned. He
had a heavier workload consisting of decrees for not only Gryffindor but for the other three
kingdoms of Hogwarts. It was mostly requests for grants and a few trial permission forms. But the
extent of the paperwork was almost more than he could handle with Hermione's banishment and his
duties as king. He remembered Sirius saying that there was a reason monarchs didn't run for
Head when he asked him about him years ago. He should have remembered that before he ran.

But, of course, he would have done it anyway. It was for Hermione's sake.

“And that concludes today's meeting.” He said with a nod. “Any further inquiries can be
submitted via letter before the next meeting in a month's time. Until then.”

The representatives began to get up and retreat from the room. Harry gathered the strewn papers
in front of him and stuffed them in his bag. He prayed that no one came up to him. He was too
antsy. He feared that if anyone did that he would hex them into oblivion.

Damn, he needed to loosen up.

“Harry.”

Harry recognized the voice as Cedric's and he let out a breath of relief. He greeted him
with a handshake.

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the hall.

Cedric nodded.

Together, the two men made their way out of the grand hall and into the bustling hallway. Court
members were chattering aimlessly and didn't notice them slip into a nearby corridor. Before
they disappeared, Harry spotted Sirius and got his attention. He pointed in the direction he and
Cedric were going and the former king nodded with understanding. He would join him when he
could.

They found a room tucked away in a corner and shut the door behind them. It seemed to be a spare
room with only a table, a few chairs, and some books strewn haphazardly. The place reeked of dust
and Cedric had to perform a quick cleaning charm before they could speak.

“Please say you came with good news.” Harry said somewhat desperately.

Cedric looked at him with sympathetic gaze. “I take it your search hasn't gone so well.”

Harry shook his head. “Not in the least. I don't know whether it's because of my
conflicting duties or if I'm really just that daft.”

“Maybe a combination of both.” Cedric said with a smirk.

Harry snorted and gestured to the chairs. The two men positioned them across from each other as
Cedric began to speak. “Hermione think she's caught onto something.”

Harry's stomach flip-flopped. “Really?”

Cedric nodded. “It's a pretty solid theory. She believes the Fowls have something to do with
it, particularly Elizabeth.”

“The Fowls?” Harry asked with a puzzled look. “Why on earth would she think that?”

“She was doing some research and came across a ledger of all of the people who elected Dmitri
Sondheim as a representative to the court and Elizabeth was at the top of the list.”

“Sondheim.” Harry said in thought. “The Ravenclaw representative that ran against me in the
election?”

“The very same.” Cedric said. “The vote to elect him into the council was held exactly a month
after Hermione's banishment and soon after he expressed his interest in running for Head. He
was the only one who didn't drop out of the election when you put your name in the
running.”

“He has spirit, that's all.” Harry said.

“Sprit and a puppeteer named Elizabeth Fowl.” Cedric said with a meaningful look. “Hermione met
with Clara and she said that her mother and Mister Sondheim had been meeting together for quite
some time.”

Harry narrowed his brow. “Hermione met with Clara?”

“Yes, they had tea.”

Harry found the image of that to be quite amusing and he chuckled.

Cedric continued. “They've also been in the process of hunting down any evidence they could
find pertaining to Elizabeth's involvement in Hermione's banishment and found something
that might—Ë®

“Looking where, exactly?” Harry asked, cutting him off.

“At the Fowl's estate.” Cedric blurted without thought. When he realized what he had just
said, his face went pale.

Harry's eyes widened and his pulse increased to an alarming rate. “When did they do this?”
He asked shakily.

“Harry, I can't—Ë®

“*When?*” Harry asked, his voice increasing in volume.

“This afternoon.” Cedric said but continued on in haste. “But listen, Harry, you
can't—Ë®

Before he could finish his sentence, Harry bolted out of the room. He didn't listen to
Cedric's pleading calls or care when he heard rapid footfalls trying to catch up with him.
Hermione was here! In Ravenclaw! She was less than a mile away from him!

His thoughts were going a thousand miles per hour. He was so caught up in them that he
didn't notice Sirius walking down the hallway. He ran straight into him and nearly threw them
both to the floor.

“Wha - Harry?” Sirius said, balancing them both with his arms. “What's the matter?”

“Can't talk now, Sirius.” Harry said. “Gotta run!”

Sirius kept a firm grip on him. “Harry, what's going on?”

Harry shook himself from his grasp. “I'll tell you later.”

“Sirius!” Cedric called from a few yards away from them. “Sirius! Stop him!”

Harry shot his godfather a grin and began to sprint the rest of the way down the hallway before
he could get a grip on him again. Sirius watched him go with a befuddled look on his face. Cedric
caught up to him and stopped with his hands on his side, completely out of breath.

“That man… can run… like a hippogriff on Felix Felicis.”

“What the hell is going on?” Sirius asked fiercely. “Why did you want me to stop him?”

Cedric's face colored slightly though Sirius couldn't tell if it was from running or
embarrassment. When he spoke, however, it was clear that it was not because he was out of shape.
“I… I kind of let it slip that Hermione is at the Fowl's estate.”

“She's *what*?” Sirius said. “Harry's going to… oh Gods, we have to stop him!”

“My thoughts exactly!” Cedric said, finally regaining his breath. “But he's probably at the
apparition point by now.”

“I know a shortcut.” Sirius said. “Follow me!”

Cedric followed the monarch and prayed that they reached the Fowl's estate before Harry did.
If not, they were in for a definite problem.
 Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7
-->



22. Reunion
-----------



**A/N: Well I am officially done with my first year of college! I would have updated earlier
but I just acquired a summer job so free time has not been easy to attain. One more chapter until
the end, you guys! I hope to have it up soon along with links to the possible score and soundtrack.
I always enjoy making those and I hope you guys like listening. I** **also** **hope you are
all having a wonderful summer/end of the school year. Until next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, blah, blah, blah.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Magique
Chapter 22: Reunion

“Do you really think these are legitimate?” Hermione asked, looking down at the table where they
had set down the only pile of evidence they had found in their hours of searching.

“They're in my mother's handwriting.” Clara confirmed, spreading out the pieces of
parchment so that each was clearly visible. “I can't vouch for Sondheim's, though. I'm
sure a vile of Veritaserum will sort that bit out.”

Hermione nodded and scanned the documents. After hours of searching they finally had a
breakthrough while searching Elizabeth's office. Hidden in a secret compartment in her desk (of
which Hermione found after performing a complex compilation of charms) was a pile of letters tied
together with a black ribbon. They went through and read them all to discover they were letters of
correspondence between Elizabeth and Dmitri Sondheim dated all the way back to the days preceding
Hermione's trial. The connection between the dates was foggy at first but the context of the
letters mentioned both the trial and upcoming election in the Court right after it was announced.
Apparently there had been talks of Kingsley's retirement before the announcement had been made
and Elizabeth wanted to take that opportunity to help aid in her own schemes.

The letters had been in chronological order which made them that much easier to decipher. Clara
had been gob smacked when she began reading them, seeing her name along with Harry and
Hermione's mentioned many times. Elizabeth had been scheming behind her own daughter's back
for quite some time and Clara couldn't help but feel used and victimized.

Hermione sympathized with her. Although she had caught the worst end of the deception, it was
Clara's own mother who had done the plotting without Clara ever finding out. The young
Ravenclaw not only began to blame herself but chastise her blatant ignorance of the situation
overall.

“I just thought it was my mother wanting the best for me - to marry me off to a rich king and
help get our lives back together.” She had said, nearing tears with every word. “And I just… I just
believed her and wrote it off as her being her normal self. I should have questioned her more about
it. I should have—Ë®

“Clara you can't blame yourself.” Hermione had said, trying her best to sooth her. “You had
no way of knowing your mother would go to these extremes. None of us knew. You shouldn't feel
responsible because you're her daughter. You cannot be held accountable for her actions in any
sense.”

It had taken some convincing but Hermione had finally gotten Clara to calm down after three
kettles full of tea and approximately a dozen raspberry pastries. After which Clara profusely
apologized and settled down for further examination of the letters. Now as they hovered over the
table they could begin to analyze the situation.

“Why do you think your mother kept her own letters?” Hermione asked. “It's very unsafe to
have them together like this.”

“My mother doesn't trust others with large things like this.” Clara explained, pulling up a
chair for both herself and Hermione in front of the table to sit. Hermione thanked her softly and
they both sat down. Clara continued speaking. “She also holds herself to be quite brilliant with
concealing secrets. When she wants to, she can hide anything from anyone. Which I suppose holds
true for this whole series of events. Who would have thought that it was some lowly Lady from
Ravenclaw who sought to attain the Gryffindor crown?”

“She's not all high and powerful if we found her out.” Hermione pointed out. “Which begs the
question: How did she make a mistake?”

“She didn't.” Clara said, looking over at Hermione with a tired smile. “You never lost faith
in your intuition. You didn't like us from the moment we set foot in Gryffindor and you held
onto that feeling until it turned out to be true.”

“Well, for one-half of the Fowl family.” Hermione said off-handedly. She smiled at blonde witch.
“I think you've safely earned my trust after today.”

Clara's smile widened. “I'm glad to hear it. I've always admired you, Hermione.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, somewhat befuddled.

Clara nodded. “Even before I met you. Your story is almost as legendary as Harry's as far as
Hogwarts is concerned. Both you and Ron stuck by Harry's side until the end. But you
especially… you overcame your blood status and became a Lady of Gryffindor. You're more famous
and admired than you give yourself credit for. And your story isn't even over yet! You have so
much more to give and you're going to do it with Harry by your side.”

Hermione had tear in her eyes by the time Clara was finished singing her praises. “I don't…
I don't know what to say.”

“Then don't say anything because I know in a few moments you're going to become too
modest and deny everything I've just said.” Clara said with a knowing smirk.

Hermione knew she was right. She had never seen herself as anything more than normal Hermione,
doing whatever she thought was right and always following her heart. Well, in most instances
anyway. And now her heart was telling her to accept Clara's praises for once. Because not only
did they come from someone she once despised, but someone who accepted her afterwards. She may not
believe Clara in the long run, or ever consider herself as an inspiration or role model, but to be
regarded so highly by someone like Clara still meant something to her - something wonderful and
flattering and all-around good.

It was then she realized that Clara was unintentionally giving her faith that everything would
be alright. That it would all work itself out and she would get her happy ending. She had said her
story wasn't over and that she would live out her days with Harry and she believed her. For
some crazy, unknown reason she believed every word she had said. Pressing her lips together, she
let the first teardrop fall down her face.

After she reached this epiphany this epiphany, she leaned over and embraced the blonde
tightly.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

Clara wanted to ask her what for, but knew that it was better if she just remained silent. For
now she was just thankful that she took her words without protest.

After a minute or two Hermione let go and wiped away the tears from her eyes and cheeks. “If
you'll excuse me for a moment, my unborn child is insisting I make yet another trip to the
restroom.”

Clara giggled. Before she exited the room, she stopped her when a question popped into her head.
“Hermione.”

“Yes?” She asked, turning around.

“I forgot to ask - when are you due?”

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment as she did the math in her head. “Three months, give or
take.”

“You must be excited.” Clara said with a wide grin.

“I'll be more excited when all of this is over.” Hermione replied solemnly.

Clara sensed she wanted to say more but refrained from doing so as she turned back around and
made her way out of the room. The Ravenclaw sighed and looked over to the letters on the table once
more. This was sufficient enough evidence to bring to the Court. With any luck, they could get a
trial set within the week's end. It was a bittersweet though, sending her mother to trial like
this. But it was for the best. After all of the pain and suffering she had caused, Elizabeth Fowl
deserved to be prosecuted for it.

Her reverie was interrupted by a loud banging on the door. Taken aback, she nearly fell off of
her chair. She faintly heard one of the staff answer the door as she calmed herself. Moments later,
one of the younger maids, Danielle, entered the room.

“Excuse me miss.” She said softly. Clara motioned for her to go on. “There is a man at the door
who is anxious to have a word with you.”

“With me?” Clara asked, surprised. She rarely had people asking for her at the door.

Danielle nodded in affirmation.

“Who is it?” She asked.

“He did not give his name, miss.” Danielle said, playing with the hem of her uniform. “But he
sounded very urgent. He said it was a matter of life and death.”

Clara narrowed her brow. “Very well. I'll see to it, Danielle, thank you.”

Danielle curtsied and made her way back to her regular post upstairs.

Clara got up from her seat and made her way quickly to the door, eager to see who this visitor
was that was so desperate to see her. She opened the front door slowly and peeked out before
opening it fully. On the other side was a tall man dressed elegantly in black robes dotted with
golden trim. His hair was the color of weathered parchment and he had a strikingly handsome face.
She felt a strange sense of familiarity as she looked at him - as if she had seen him before.

“Good evening.” He said, his voice a low baritone.

“Good evening.” She replied. “How may I help you?”

“I'm a friend of Hermione's.” He said. “My name is Cedric Diggory.”

Her face fell a little. “Oh.”

“I'm afraid there isn't much time to explain my unexpected intrusion.” He said in a
hurry. “Harry is on his way here.”

“He's *what*?” She asked, her voice getting uncharacteristically higher. “Why?”

“I'll explain later.” He said, though she could see his cheeks becoming red. “May we come
in?”

“We?” She asked.

To answer her question, a second figure appeared out of the shadows, dressed in similar fancy
clothing to Cedric. This was a face that Clara recognized immediately.

“Your majesty.” Clara said in astonishment.

“Not anymore. It's the real king you have to worry about now.” Sirius said with a playful
grin. “May we come in?”

“Oh yes. Yes, of course!” Clara said as she opened the door further to let them inside.

She led them into the parlor where she and Hermione had been spending most of their time. Cedric
turned to her and spoke. “Where's Hermione?”

“In the washroom.” Clara said. “Now would you mind telling me why Harry is on his way to my
house?”

“Pinhead here let it slip Hermione was here.” Sirius said, jabbing Cedric in the side.

“It was an accident!” Cedric defended, though his cheeks burned a noticeable shade of scarlet.
“Anyway, it doesn't matter now. He's on his way here and should be arriving at any moment.
We only beat him here because Sirius knew a shortcut.”

“Well what do we do?” Clara said.

“Keep him from entering while we sneak Hermione out. We can't risk him seeing her in her
condition. Hermione said if it were to happen he was at risk of going into a frenzy.” Cedric
explained.

“I'd say he's already in a frenzy. Seeing her would just make it worse.” Sirius
added.

“Make what worse?”

The three heads in the room snapped up and saw Hermione standing in the doorway with a confused
look on her face. She took a few more steps into the room.

“Cedric? Sirius? What are you doing here?” Her voice was wavering. “Is something wrong?”

“Depends on your definition of `wrong.'” Cedric said.

Hermione's brow furrowed and she turned to Sirius. The older wizard sighed and explained
hurriedly. “Harry's on his way here and we need to get you out before he sees you… you…
Hermione… are you with child?” His eyes were now glued to her stomach.

Hermione followed his gaze and nodded. “Yes.”

“My god. This is worse than I imagined. We must hurry before he arrives.”

“Here? Why is he coming here?” Hermione asked, her voice speeding up as her worries began to
increase.

Cedric hurried to explain, though he spoke so quickly it was hard to understand what he was
saying. “Imayhevtoldhimyouwerehere.”

Hermione heard him loud and clear, though both Clara and Sirius shared looks of puzzlement at
what had just come out of his mouth,

“Cedric!” She scolded, her voice high and agitated.

“No time for that now.” Sirius said, waving his arm about to get their attention. “We
mustn't waste any more time! At the rate he was running he could be here any—Ë®

*Bang. Bang. Bang.*

“—minute.”

The noise of fist against wood echoed throughout the house and Clara went to the door to fend
off any servants from answering. Hermione's heart rate increased to an alarming amount and she
felt herself beginning to grow dizzy. She placed a hand on a nearby table to balance herself.

Here. Harry was here. Right now. He was on the other side of that door.

“It's him all right.” Clara said as she peeked through a nearby window. “He looks pretty
crazed to me.”

“Hermione, you have to get out. Now.”

She had to get herself together! She needed to get out of the house before he could see her.
They were so close to finally ending this heartache and now he shows up! That was just like him.
Always coming into her life in the most inconvenient of times and screwing everything up. It was
part of his charm. And she loved him for it.

But now was not the time to be sentimental. She had to keep herself focused.

“Hermione, are you alright?” Cedric asked.

She nodded just as it started. His voice rose up from the other side of the door.

“Hermione! HERMIONE!”

Oh, it felt good to hear him call her name.

“I know you're in there! Come on, Hermione! *Hermione!*”

“With those lungs he's going to stir up the whole neighborhood!” Cedric said. “Clara, tell
him to stuff it before he causes a scene!”

“But what if he barges in?” She asked in a loud whisper.

“Sirius, stand close to her.” Cedric said. “Hermione, sweetheart, we have to go.”

Hermione nodded and walked over to his side. She was still a bit light-headed but the adrenaline
pumping through her veins was making her forget all about it. They began making their way to the
back of the room where another door was located when she heard to door open and Harry's voice
echo throughout the house. She forced herself to continue forward, Cedric's grip on her hand
serving as a grounding force to keep her focused.

“Harry, now is not a good time.” Clara said.

“I know she's in here, Clara. Just let me see her.”

“I can't do that, Harry.” She said sadly.

“Why not?” He asked in exasperation.

His face was so torn and heart wrenched that she almost let him by. Sirius must have sensed this
because he came to stand next to her. Harry's face turned stony.

“Sirius?”

“It's best for everyone if you leave now, Harry.”

“But why?” He asked, his voice becoming as frantic as his ragged appearance. “Sirius, I
haven't seen her in *months*. Please let me at least see her.”

“I can't.”

Harry's jaw tightened. He looked past the two of them and raised his voice once more.
“Hermione! Hermione it's me! It's Harry! Please, I need to see you! PLEASE!”

Hermione tugged on Cedric's arm and stopped him. She turned around and looked down the
corridor where they had just come from. She could hear his voice reverberating against the walls.
It sounded so lost. So heartbroken. He needed to see her just as desperately as she needed to see
him.

“Hermione, no.” Cedric said. “You said yourself it was dangerous for him to see you in this
conduction. He could go mad. He could revoke his title and send the kingdom into mayhem.”

“I know, I know. But we're already so close. What's a little glance going to hurt? I
haven't seen him in months and he believes he hasn't seen me for much longer.”

“Hermione, you can't. You said—Ë®

“HERMIONE!” Harry's voice sounded from across the manor. It sent shivers down both Cedric
and Hermione's spines.

“Forget what I said!” She said harshly. “Cedric, with the evidence we found today we could
easily get a Court hearing and send Elizabeth behind bars for good and have everything set back to
normal. Seeing me today wouldn't do as much harm as it would have last month or even last week.
If he does anything drastic, we can hold him at bay for a few days or even weeks if necessary. We
are so close that it doesn't matter anymore.”

Cedric looked at her with stony eyes. “Are you saying this as logical Hermione or as love struck
Hermione, unable to think straight?”

“Does it matter?” She asked. “When have I ever been able to not think straight?”

Cedric opened his mouth to counter but shut it promptly after. She was right. She was always
right. Even in her love struck manner she still managed to think the situation out before acting.
And for being in love, that was quite a feat indeed.

“If this doesn't work, I reserve all rights to gloat.”

She grinned. “Thank you, Cedric!”

“Go get him, tiger.” He said, giving her a slight push. “But be careful!”

She was already hastening down the hallway.

“I will!” She called behind her.

Careful not to go too quickly for risk of falling, she walked as fast as she could. She could
barely hear his voice now. They must have calmed him down. But he was still here! She quickened her
pace, desperate to not miss him. They had come this far together (or, rather, apart) already. It
was time for their reward, damnit!

She reached the parlor and heard a quiet conversation. She slowed down, picking out three
distinctive voices. Catching her breath, she walked the final steps into the entrance hall.
Harry's back was to her and Sirius spotted her before anyone took notice. His eyes widened,
though not enough for Harry or Clara to notice, and he looked at her as though silently telling her
to run, to get out of here as quickly as she could. She ignored him.

“I just don't understand why she doesn't want to see me.” Harry said, his voice soft and
broken.

“She does, just not now.” Clara said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You'll
understand in time.”

“But I want to understand now! What could possibly be keeping us apart now? After all we've
gone through together?”

Hermione's hands drifted to her stomach where she felt the unborn child growing inside of
her kicking like crazy. It could feel her heartbeat increasing, which was always a side effect of
Harry being around. It *didn't* make sense to be apart after all they'd been through,
especially because of something that should be regarded as a miracle. She took her final few steps
forward and called his name softly.

“Harry.”

She saw his back stiffen, as though someone had just smacked him over the head and awoken him
from a daydream. Looking back, after she spoke it seemed as though the next few minutes went by in
slow motion, though it felt like no time at all while it was actually happening.

Harry turned fully around and saw her, his slackened features fading into a look of pure joy. He
ran over to her and embraced her long and tight. It was apparent he hadn't noticed her obvious
change in appearance until after he wrapped her up in his arms and felt the large mound of space
that was lodged between their bodies. He pulled back and looked down, seeing her rounded belly for
the first time.

“Hermione you're… you're…” He sputtered.

Hermione nodded, tears of happiness rolling down her face in a cascade. She saw similar wet
spots on his cheeks as well as well as a new light behind his eyes. “I'm pregnant.”

“You're pregnant.” Harry repeated. “You're… oh Merlin… you're *pregnant*!”

Hermione couldn't think of anything to do other than continue nodding. He sputtered around
with his words for a few seconds before forming a coherent statement.

“Is it… it *is* mine, isn't it?”

Hermione smacked him hard in the shoulder. “Dolt! Of course it's yours!”

“W-why didn't you tell me?” He said, a look of hurt beginning to form in his teary eyes.

“I think you bloody well know why.” She said hardly.

Sirius and Clara exchanged worried looks as the couple continued talking. What should they do
now? Hermione had broken the original protocol and now they were just standing here watching the
lover's exchange like a bunch of confused baby ducklings.

“Why do you think Cedric let her go?” Clara asked.

“I think Hermione has a way of talking her way out of any given situation - even one she's
placed herself in.” Sirius said with certain wispiness in his voice that Clara couldn't place.
It seemed, after a moment of thought, to be a cross wisdom and humor.

Clara looked back over at Harry and Hermione and spoke more to herself but loud enough for
Sirius to overhear. “Looking at them now you wouldn't have ever thought to keep them apart in
the first place.”

Sirius let out a grunt of agreement. “They've been glued at the hip since they first met. It
would take a deadest force to even consider splitting them up in the first place. Someone truly
conniving.”

Clara's eyes focused on the ground. “My mother *is* one of the most conniving people
I've met.”

Sirius looked over at the young girl and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I realize this
must be difficult for you. But I trust you know that what is going to happen will be for the
best.”

Clara nodded. “Of course. It's just a bit difficult to process, that's all.” She looked
back over at the couple. “But I know it's for the best. Who are we to keep two halves of a
heart from beating together?”

Sirius let his hand drop from her shoulder as a wisp of a smile crossed his face. He followed
her gaze. “I couldn't agree more.”

Both of their hands were now atop the rounded mound that was Hermione's stomach. After a few
moments, they both felt a faint bump. Feeling his unborn child kick for the first time almost sent
Harry back into tears.

“I just can't believe it.” Harry said. “I never would have thought *this* was the
reason you were being so secretive.”

“I never wanted to keep it from you, I trust you know that.” Hermione said softly, looking deep
into his eyes.

“Of course I do. But I still wish… if we weren't forced apart like this…” He said, his gaze
dropping from hers.

“I know. But we're here now. We're together and we're so close to ending this hell
that fate has placed us in.” Hermione said, cupping his face with her palm. “Can we focus on that
now? We've been through too much heartache these past few months to focus on the bad the moment
we see each other again.”

Harry nodded. “Of course. You're right.”

“Good.” She said. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

Harry grinned. “Yes ma'am.”

Their lips barely touched when a reverberating *bang* sounded throughout the hall. All
heads turned towards the entrance where a very angry-looking Lady was staring at Hermione with
daggers in her eyes.

“YOU!” She shouted. “*What are you doing in my house?!*”
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23. The Final Dictum
--------------------



**A/N: This is it you guys - one more chapter left after this! It's so weird, wrapping up
another story. But where one thing ends, another begins.** **I'll do all of the sappy “thank
you” stuff next chapter. For now, read on!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.**

**Enjoy!**

-

Magique
Chapter 23: The Final Dictum

“Mother!” Clara said, aghast.

Elizabeth's head turned towards her daughter and her face softened. It seemed like she just
noticed her presence. Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed tight. He returned the
pressure and took a step forward.

“Elizabeth, I have a few questions to ask you.” He said, his voice so straight and unwavering it
reminded Hermione of a sword piercing enemy armor.

“Of course, your highness.” She replied, her voice at least an octave lower and ten bars
quieter. Her demeanor changed to one of a polite Lady, a radical change from her outburst.

Harry refrained from grinding his teeth together. If her previous outburst didn't prove
their findings, he didn't know what would. But he had to remain civil and fair. No matter how
much he wanted to bind and trap her behind bars - to avenge Hermione's banishment. To make up
for the months he had missed out on the growth of their *child*.

Oh, fuck it.

“How comfortable are you with binding charms?” He asked coolly.

“Your majesty?” She asked, her face noticeably paling.

“Bind her.” He said, motioning to Sirius.

The elder wizard didn't hesitate, walking behind her and clamping her wrists together. Thin,
snakelike chords erupted out of his wand and bound them together. A look of horror molded onto her
face.

“What is the meaning of this?” She said, looking frantically around the room.

“Elizabeth Fowl you are under arrest for treason against the kingdom of Gryffindor. You will
remain so impending a trial, the date of which shall be decided upon after presenting your case to
the Court.” Harry said, stating the facts like a true diplomat.

“May I ask what I'm being charged with?” Elizabeth asked, looking at Harry with narrowed
eyes.

“Framing the Lady Hermione, leading to her banishment and compromising the position of the
king.” He stated simply.

Hermione inhaled a large breath and clutched onto Harry's forearm. Hearing him say the words
she knew to be true caused her stomach to drop. He really would have given up the kingdom for her.
She felt him relax into her touch.

“Compromising the position of the king?” Elizabeth asked, a look of true confusion dawning on
her face.

“The specifics will be discussed at your trial.” Harry said lowly. “Sirius, please escort her to
the castle dungeons. Inform the king of Ravenclaw of the present situation and he will give you
further instructions. I will meet with you in my chambers later after discussing the matter with
the Court.”

“Your highness.” Sirius said, bowing his head.

He tugged on Elizabeth's bound wrists and led her out of the door. Elizabeth struggled,
training her eyes on Clara.

“Clara, darling,” She pleaded “Surely you cannot believe this. Please, tell them! You know I
would never do anything to—Ë®

“Save it, mother.” Clara said, her voice so cold it sent shivers down her own spine.

The look of hurt in Elizabeth's eyes was almost enough to break the young Ravenclaw. This
was her *mother* that was being escorted to the castle dungeons. She glanced over to where
Harry and Hermione stood. Hermione was clutching onto Harry's arm as if he was the only thing
keeping her upright. He stood just in front of her, his body mirroring a protective stance she had
only read about in books.

The door slammed shut and she was brought back to reality. Her mother nearly permanently
separated two people that were destined to be together - who were on the verge of starting a
family. No matter how much she loved her mother she could not overlook the facts. She wasn't
the woman she knew anymore.

“Clara, I'm sorry you had to see that.” Harry said.

“It had to be done.” She said evenly.

“Thank you.” Hermione said, stepping forward so that she was now directly beside Harry. “For
everything. I realize how hard it must be to help convict your own mother.”

Clara nodded, smiling sadly. “I know it's for the best.”

Cedric, who had remained silent throughout the entire ordeal, stepped forward and put a
comforting hand on Clara's shoulders. She stiffened and looked up at him. He gave her a small
smile and she couldn't help but relax. Any act of support or kindness right now was
welcome.

“So,” he said, turning towards Harry and Hermione. “What next?”

“I have to go send a message to the Court. Call a meeting for the morning and set up a
trial.”

Cedric nodded. “Do you need me to come with you?”

“No, that won't be necessary.” He said. “I'll do it alone.”

A look of hurt flashed on Hermione face. “But Harry we—Ë®

“I know we still need to talk.” He said, turning towards her. “And we will. But before we do any
of that I need to put all of my efforts into lifting your banishment. We are so close, `Mione - so
close to finally ending this. You know I have to go.” He lifted his free arm and cupped her face.
“I'll be back before you know it.”

“Should I wait up for you?” She asked.

“No you get your rest. You look exhausted.” He framed her face by bringing up his free hand. “I
don't want you straining yourself any further for my sake. I want you and the baby to be
healthy and well taken care of.”

Hermione knew he was right but the selfish part of her wanted to scream in protest. *It could
wait,* *I* *could go with him*. She didn't feel tired nor did she think Harry had
the right to remove himself from her side after only minutes of being reunited. The logical and
more prominent part of her mind, however, agreed with every word Harry said, knowing that he only
had the best of intentions and wouldn't do anything to harm or upset her if it wasn't
absolutely necessary.

She nodded, agreeing to his terms, her eyes beginning to fill with unshed tears. She cursed
herself for appearing so weak. Although when it came to Harry, she always had a tender heart.

“Hey.” He said softly. “I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you, too.”

Leaning down he captured her lips in a real kiss. One filled with the passion and love time had
robbed them of. They held onto each other as if they were the only people in the world. And in that
moment, in each other's minds, they were. When they were done, their foreheads rested against
each other and their breathing was noticeably heavier.

“Oh go on, you prat.” Hermione said, gently hitting him on his chest.

Harry sniggered and gave her lips a final peck before turning back to Cedric and Clara who had
immersed themselves in their own conversation.

“Cedric.” He called, gaining the Hufflepuff's attention. “Would you mind staying here and
making sure Hermione and Clara are looked after?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He said sincerely.

Harry nodded and left Hermione's warm embrace. They locked eyes and silently said all they
had to say in that moment. He left the estate with a heartfelt goodbye and a promise to return as
soon as he could. Hermione's eyes never left him until the door shut softly with a quiet
*click*.

Cedric cleared his throat. “Well, now that we have a few hours to burn, who's up for some
dinner?”

Clara nodded. “I could go for some food. Hermione?”

Hermione felt a pang of hunger at the mention of food and hurriedly agreed.

“Great. I'll go inform the cook and he'll whip up something for us.” Clara said. “Any
preferences?”

“After the lovely turn of events, I say we celebrate with a good-old-fashioned celebratory
feast.” Cedric said, his voice bubbling with newfound peppiness.

Clara giggled. “I'll see what I can do. Back in a tick!”

She turned on her heel and began a trek to the kitchen, leaving Hermione and Cedric alone in the
entranceway.

“She's a fireball, that one.” Cedric said with an appreciative tone. “I don't think
I've ever seen anyone with so much on her plate bounce back that quickly.”

“She certainly is very strong.” Hermione agreed. “It took me months to get back on my feet when
I was banished.”

“Ah, it took less than that.” Cedric said. “You met me only a few weeks after arriving in
Hufflepuff. I must have had some sort of positive effect on you.”

“You certainly did.” Hermione agreed, her tone turning thoughtful. “And I've never properly
thanked you for it.”

“What do you mean? You've thanked me loads of times. And after every one of them I told you
it was no bother because you, my dear, are well worth it.”

“I highly doubt I'm worth all this trouble.” She said, making a grand gesture with her arms,
metaphorically encompassing all of the events that they had been through.

“Hermione.” Cedric said in a displeased tone. Walking over to her he put both of his hands on
her shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. “If you weren't worth all of this trouble,
than I'm a squandering hippogriff.”

“Well, you do have quite the beak on you.” She teased.

His face contorted to one of faux-repulsion. They both shared a laugh and embraced. Hermione
didn't know how she came to be so lucky as to find a friend like Cedric. She wasn't even
sure she deserved it. But she dared not mention that in front of him as he would probably throw
another fit.

“Things are going to work out, Hermione.” Cedric said rubbing her back. “I promise.”

“I hope you're right.” She said, squeezing him tight before letting go.

“Dinner will be ready soon.” Clara's voice popped up from a nearby hallway. They both turned
and saw her walking toward them with a smile. “Luckily we had some leftovers so it won't take
long to reheat and prepare them. I hope you guys are hungry.”

“Starving.” Hermione answered, rubbing her enlarged stomach. “I don't think I've eaten
since earlier this afternoon. I've been so sick with worry I must have forgotten.”

“Oh well we can't have that!” Clara said. “Come on, let's go wait in the dining
hall.”

Together the three of them ventured into the large, ornate room and waited for their food to be
prepared. When it arrived they shared a pleasant conversation, talking about how life was going to
be after the trial and what they all wanted to do if it ended the way they wanted it to.

“We all know what Hermione wants.” Clara said teasingly.

Hermione blushed as Cedric spoke. “And she'll get it, too! She'll get married to a king,
start a family, live happily ever after. Every woman's dream, I imagine.”

“Oh stop it!” She said, though she was grinning from ear-to-ear. “I don't just want those
things. I also want to reapply for a position in the Court and introduce bills I've written,
propose more equal rights to house elves and the treatment of magical creatures.”

“Oh, politics.” Clara said with a wave of her hand. “Please can we not discuss the horridness at
the dinner table? I would like to keep my food down.”

“You don't like politics?” Cedric asked.

“Not particularly.” Clara said off-handedly. “I'm more interested in what Hermione wants to
name the baby.” She finished with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Cedric looked at Hermione with a cocked eyebrow. “Have you considered any at all? I would have
thought you would have forgotten in all of the excitement and plotting.”

“Oh please.” Clara said. “Expecting mothers always have time to think about the names of their
future children. Right, Hermione?”

“Well… I have thought about it a little.” She confessed. “But I haven't really given it too
much of my time.”

“Go on, tell us!” Clara said excitedly.

Hermione looked at Cedric and he nodded for her to continue. “Um, alright. If it's a boy, I
was thinking of naming it after Harry's father, James.”

“That's so sweet!” Clara cooed. “And if it's a girl?”

“I'm not sure yet.” Hermione said. “Like I said, I haven't really given it much time.
I've thought of a few but none of them really seem to stick, you know?”

“Yeah.” Clara said. “I'm sure you'll think of one, though. And who knows, maybe Harry
will have some ideas.”

Hermione smiled. “Yeah, I'm sure he will. He's wanted to start a family ever since I can
remember. He's probably given it more thought than I ever have.”

Cedric chuckled. “That's surprising. I didn't think anyone could outthink you.”

“In matters of the heart Harry's always been much better than me.” Hermione said, smiling
fondly. “He always knows just what to say and how to say it, when to act upon what you know is
right… he's going to be an amazing father. And when all of this is over I hope he has the
chance to be. After all he's been through…” Hermione paused, laughing softly. “After all
*we've* been through I think that it's more than deserved.”

Clara sniffed, feeling tears well up in her eyes. “You're going to get what you deserve,
Hermione.”

“Yeah.” Cedric said, reaching over and grasping her hand. “Don't even give it a second
thought.”

“Thank you.” She said, smiling and looking warmly at the two people before her. “But please,
enough about me. Let's talk about something else.”

Cedric squeezed her hand and let go. “How about the last forty years of political history and
how each one has become more polluted and corrupt than the last?”

“Don't you dare.” Clara said warningly. “I will kick you out of my house.”

“I highly doubt that.” Cedric said with a teasing smirk.

“You highly underestimate what I'm capable of.” She said seriously, glaring at him with her
crystal blue eyes.

“A tiny, well-behaved Lady like you couldn't possibly affect a strong and capable man like
me.” He said. “You might break a nail.”

“You chauvinist pig!”

Hermione watched the exchanged with good humor. After the events of the past few days, she
needed a normal dinner with friends. And she couldn't be more thankful that they were still
capable of having one even with all of the pressure surrounding them.

They finished their large meals accompanied by more pleasantries. Hermione announced that it was
time for her to retire to bed as soon as she took her last bite of cherry pie. She felt fatigue
begin to sneak up on her during the main course and knew it would do her wonders to at least rest
her eyes.

Clara led her to one of the guest chambers. It was rather small but very homey in appearance.
The sheets and curtains were both a deep sapphire color with ornate patterns sewn into them. There
was a small bureau and desk, both matching the bed's mahogany frame. Hermione thanked Clara
with a hug.

When she pulled away she asked one more favor. “Do you have any large sleeping gowns by any
chance?”

Clara nodded. “Everything you need should be in the bureau. If not, I can fetch one of the maids
to search for you.”

“Thank you again.” Hermione said.

“You know it's no trouble.” Clara said in assurance. “Get some rest, Hermione. We have an
exciting few days ahead of us.”

Hermione nodded and shut the door behind Clara as she departed. Turning towards the room she
walked up to the bureau and filed through the hangers and drawers for an appropriate nighttime
garment. She dug around for a full minute before finding what appeared to be a tent with sleeves
and a head hole sewn into it. Perfect.

She slipped into the crème gown and sighed as she felt the silk against her skin. It fit her
almost perfectly with some extra room on the sides. Content with her choice, she took down her hair
and buried herself underneath the warm sheets. She didn't even bother removing the extra
pillows as they made her feel as though she was resting on a cloud. If anything would help her get
to sleep it would be them

Her eyes drifted close and what seemed like an instant later she was disturbed by a warm hand
pressing against her cheek. Her eyes drifted open and adjusted to the darkness. Before she could
react at all to the new presence looming over her bed, a familiar deep voice spoke.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Harry.” She said, her voice groggy. She propped herself up on her elbows and stifled a yawn.
“Was I really asleep?”

“Yeah,” He said with an amused smile. “I was quite surprised myself. You must have been
exhausted.”

“I guess so.” She agreed in a daze. She hadn't fallen asleep that quickly since she had been
in Gryffindor. Looking out of the window to her right, she saw the moon's position in the sky.
It must have been well into the night. She went to bed just as the sun was setting.

“Well I'm glad.” Harry said. “I was afraid you were going to ignore my advice and stay up
anyway.”

“I wanted to.” She said. “But as soon as I got into bed I fell right asleep. You were right, I
suppose. I needed a good night's rest.”

“And you still need one. It's not morning quite yet.”

“You're one to talk.” Hermione pointed out, leaning her back fully against the headboard of
the bed. “Have you been awake this entire time?”

“Don't worry about me.” Harry said. “I'm not tired at all.”

“Poppycock.” She said, squinting her eyes to gaze at him through the veil of darkness. “I can
see the tiredness in your eyes from here. You need rest just as much as I do.”

Harry shook his head, chuckling lowly under his breath. “That may be so but you know I
couldn't care less.”

“Well I do.” Hermione said hardly. “Get under the covers. Now.”

“Yes ma'am.” He said, stifling a grin.

He slid underneath the covers and turned to face her. She craned her head to the side and
maneuvered her hips so that she was facing him. He greeted her with a smile.

“Hi.” He whispered.

“Hi.” She replied in the same tone.

He leaned forward and captured her lips in a chaste kiss that nearly took her breath away. He
pulled back and inched closer to her so that their bodies were nearly touching. Only one thing was
preventing them from hugging each other tight until the sun rose.

Harry reached down and placed a hand on her inflated stomach. There was an instant reaction with
her and the baby as it kicked directly where Harry's hand was placed. His eyes widened and he
looked from her to his hand multiple times.

“Did it just…?”

“Yeah.” She said. “It knows you're here.”

“How?” He asked in wonder.

“Well,” Hermione said, her face coloring. “Every time I see you my heart races. I think the baby
must pick up on that.”

Harry laid there in silence, rubbing her stomach. It wasn't until a few minutes later that
he spoke. “It's incredible.”

Hermione nodded, looking at where Harry was now tracing circles around her abdomen.

“I wish I could have been there.” He said quietly.

“I know. I wish so, too.” Hermione said sadly. “But we both know why that couldn't have
happened.”

“I would have given up the entire kingdom to see you… to help you…” Harry trailed off, lost in
thought.

“I know.” She repeated. “But none of that matters now. We're here, together, and my
banishment is going to be lifted. We can forget the whole thing ever happened.”

“But it *did* happen.” Harry said, looking her in the eyes. There were tears beginning to
form in his emerald pools and Hermione felt her heart drop. “I couldn't be there for you when
you needed me most.”

“You're here now.” Hermione said. “And that's all that matters.”

He smiled sadly and kissed her brow. She leaned into his touch. They laid there in silence for
what felt like eternity, neither one drifting to sleep. All that mattered in that moment were that
they were together. After a while, Hermione spoke up.

“Did the Court receive your message?”

“They did.” Harry said. “I got replies when I was talking with Sirius.”

“And the trial?” Hermione asked. “Is a date set?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Tomorrow?” Hermione asked, her voice laced with surprise.

“Well, technically later today.” Harry said.

“That's so soon!” Hermione said, excitement and worry bubbling up inside of her. “How did
you manage that?”

“I didn't.” Harry said. “The members of the Court have very busy schedules. It was tomorrow
or in a few weeks. I figured that the majority of people involved wanted this case to be handled
sooner rather than later.”

“Tomorrow.” Hermione repeated. “This could all be over tomorrow.”

“No, Hermione.” Harry said. “This *will* all be over tomorrow.”

Hermione grinned at leaned up to kiss him. It was a kiss of relief, of love, but most of all of
promise. In a few hours time they could finally be rid of the burden that had been plaguing them
for what felt like an eternity. They could finally have the chance to start a new chapter in their
lives.

*No*, Hermione thought to herself as Harry wrapped his arms around her from behind and
snuggled against her. They *would*.

~*~

“We are gathered here this afternoon to try Lady Elizabeth Fowl for treason against the king of
Gryffindor.” The king of Ravenclaw, Erys Pelrine, announced.

Erys was a taller man, just growing into his first gray hairs. He was a kindly man but as soon
as he entered the hall and stepped onto the judge's podium he developed an authoritative air
about him. His face was neutral as he read off Elizabeth's rights and stated the purpose of the
trial.

Harry, Hermione, Clara, and Sirius were all seated in the audience's stands off to the side.
Harry and Sirius, though still members of the Court, were not allowed to participate because of
their involvement. Cedric was seated at the far left end of the large table surrounding the
judge's podium.

Elizabeth remained stiff in front of the Court. Hermione watched her movements with a
calculative gaze. Harry's hand was grasped firmly in her own. Though they received many
judgmental and curious looks, there was no law that said they couldn't be together outside of
Gryffindor.

“How do you plead, Miss Fowl?” Erys asked.

“Not guilty, your grace.” Elizabeth said evenly.

*Unbelievable*. Hermione thought in disgust. *She's* *still denying she had
anything to do with it.*

Harry squeezed her hand and she let herself relax a little. The Veritaserum would set her
straight.

“Bring forth the Veritaserum.” The king ordered.

A young boy that Hermione assumed worked somewhere in the castle brought forward the vial of
truth serum. She vividly recalled her own experience with the potion and shivered. This entire
environment was too familiar.

Elizabeth drank the potion and waited further instructions. The king waited a few moments for
the potion to sink in before continuing.

“Did you or did you not have assistance in the Lady Hermione's banishment?”

Elizabeth bit her lip. She was biting back her answer.

“Miss Fowl, you must answer the question.” The Ravenclaw said patiently.

“Yes.” She blurted, the word spilling out of her mouth like a newly opened dam.

The room let out an audible gasp and neither Harry nor Hermione could hold back their pleasant
reactions.

“You are aware that it is considered treason to meddle in the affairs of the hierarchy?” Erys
asked, writing on the parchment in front of him.

“Yes.”

“What, then, were your motives in attempting such a scheme?” He asked, looking pointedly at her
with his dark brown eyes.

“I wanted to get her out of the picture so my Clara could marry royalty.” She said, her voice
beginning to waver.

Clara's face darkened and Hermione offered a comforting hand for her to hold. The blonde
took it and trained her eyes on her mother, her gaze filled with hurt.

“Did your daughter have any part in your plans?” Erys questioned further.

“No, she wasn't aware of them.” She said, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks.

“Were there any other involved parties?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Dmitri Sondheim.”

The crowd let out another audible gasp. Members of the Court looked affronted. Heads turned to
look for the mentioned culprit. Sondheim was nowhere in sight.

“One of the Ravenclaw representatives?” Erys asked in shock.

“Yes, your grace.”

“What was his role?”

“To infiltrate the Court so that the sentence could not be overturned.” She said quickly. She
was beginning to look feint.

“Was he aware of the repercussions and overall goal of this plot?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“No, your grace.” She said, wiping her cheeks. “I believe he left the city after the meeting
last night.”

The king said something to the representative to his right and he nodded. There was talking
amongst the Court. The crowd began to grow restless as whispers started breaking out amongst the
people. Harry, Hermione, Clara, and Sirius remained silent, not wanting to jinx the change of
events.

The deliberation carried on no longer than ten minutes. When the gabble was struck on the wood
of the podium, the room fell silent once more. Elizabeth looked as though she were about to pass
out, her hand gripping the front of her defendant's podium so tight it turned white.

“Elizabeth Fowl, Lady of Ravenclaw, you are herby sentenced to twenty years in Azkaban prison
pending probation for treason against the kingdom of Gryffindor.” The king announced, his voice
booming around the hall. He looked at the audience. “All actions by cause of this woman's
betrayal are herby revoked in the land of Hogwarts. Court dismissed.”

The room was abuzz with commotion as Elizabeth was led by the guards out of the hall. Harry and
Hermione looked at each other with wide eyes. They had done it. It was over. Just like that. Unable
to believe it they simply molded into each other's arms, embracing as the crowd began to file
out of the hall.

When it was nearly empty, they pulled apart. Harry helped Hermione up as they stepped out of the
stands and onto the marble floor. Sirius and Clara were waiting for them, both sporting wide
grins.

“Congratulations.” Sirius said. “You've won your freedom back, Hermione.”

Hermione nodded, still in a daze. “It's… I can't… believe it.”

Sirius chuckled. “Well you've got plenty of time. Our carriage for Gryffindor leaves
tonight. You're coming home with.”

“I'm going home.” Hermione said to herself, staring at the floor. She looked up at Sirius
and then at Harry. “I'm going home!”

Harry grinned and embraced her as tightly as he dared. He kissed the top of her head and held
her close to his side as they detached. He looked at Clara.

“Thank you for all of your help, Clara. We couldn't have done this without you.”

Clara smiled. “It was my pleasure.”

“Hey!” A voice erupted from behind them.

Cedric bounded beside them with a wide grin. “Congratulations, Miss Hermione!”

“Thank you, Cedric.” Hermione said.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“I'll let you know when I've wrapped my head around it all.” She said.

Cedric chuckled. “Will I ever see you again after you begin your grand life back in
Gryffindor?”

“Don't be silly!” She chastised. “You're more than welcome. Right, Harry?”

“Of course.” Harry agreed. He stuck out his hand and Cedric grabbed it. “Thank you, mate.”

The Hufflepuff bowed. “Any time.” He let go of the king's hand and looked around for a
moment. “So, when do you leave?”

“Tonight.” Hermione said. “Which reminds me, I have to start packing!”

“I'll help you.” Harry said.

“Thank you. I just need to - oh.” She paused, looking at Cedric. “Most of my belongings are
still in Hufflepuff.”

“Don't you worry. I'll send them right away. I'll leave tonight.” Cedric said. “I
just need to send word to Celine. Lady Clara, would you mind accompanying me to the local
Owlery?”

Clara looked confused for a moment but nodded. “Sure.”

Cedric extended his arm and Clara looped her own through it. They both waved, promising to
return later for a proper goodbye before they departed for their separate kingdoms.

Sirius looked at Harry and Hermione after they left, his eyes shining. “So, what are you going
to do next?”

Harry looked at Hermione, a small smile touching his lips. “We have our whole future to figure
that out now. What do you think we should do next, `Mione?”

Hermione smiled, leaning into him. “Let's just start by going home.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Harry said, leading them out of the hall.

The three of them walked out of the castle and into the afternoon sunlight. The birds were
singing, the wind was gently blowing, and Harry and Hermione couldn't have felt more content.
As they continued their walk to the Fowl's manor in silence, a thought struck Hermione.

“You know, I think we forgot to consider something for when we arrive home.”

“What's that?” Harry asked.

She looked down at her stomach. “What are we going to tell Ron?”
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24. Their Happily Ever After
----------------------------



**A/N: Well, this is it! Wow, it's been a hell of a journey. This story took me a long time
to complete but I never gave up thanks to your encouraging reviews. Your enthusiasm for this story
really fueled it to be what it is and I thank you so much for that. The score is also finished and
waiting to be downloaded at my new and improved website. The link is down below and I encourage you
to check it out because it'll be my main source of updating you guys on my writing.**
**I'm quite proud of it and hope that you'll visit it after reading. *hint hint* Thank
you** **SOOO** **much for sticking with this story, guys. It really means the world to me. I
hope to be seeing you again soon but until then I bid you farewell.**

**Website:** ****writinginharmony.webs.com
**(The score is posted under** **Fan Fiction - Music Downloads****)**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.**

**Enjoy!**

**-**

Chapter 24:
Their Happily Ever After

“Ready for this?” Harry asked, looking down at her with an amused grin.

“As I'll ever be.” Hermione responded, clutching his hand tightly in her own.

They were at the front door of the Weasley's estate. It was a dark brown building that was
the tallest in Gryffindor, towering a good ten feet above the castle itself. Although not as large
in width, it was still a great home by any means of the word. It was easily identified by a garden
out back where Molly Weasley tended to her homegrown herbs and vegetables used in her famous
cooking. She refused to hire a chef, her love of catering and feeding her family too precious for
her to give up. She was looked down upon by many of the other Ladies of Gryffindor because of her
habits but the royal family had always regarded her as one of the strongest and most capable women
to have been inducted into the Order of the Phoenix, along with her slightly kooky husband, Arthur,
who had always had a fascination with Muggle artifacts.

Both Harry and Hermione had spent a great deal of their childhoods within its safe walls, always
treating it as a home of their own and being treated like family in return. But right now its
familiar brass knocker looked anything but welcoming.

They had just arrived back in Gryffindor that morning and Hermione insisted that they go to the
Weasley's estate straightaway. Harry had barely gotten her to finish their breakfast before
they were off. They had received a fair amount of stares as they walked the short distance, the
news only just breaking that Hermione's uplifted banishment. No doubt her drastic change in
appearance and Harry's hand clutched in hers would start a rally of rumors by the time they
arrived at their destination.

Taking a large intake of breath, Hermione reached with her free hand and knocked. It was mere
seconds before a mess of red hair came to greet them. Hermione grinned as she saw her dear old
friend's bright blue eyes connect with her own.

“Hi, Ron.” She said meekly.

He grinned. “Hermione you're - y-you're… your stomach is *huge*.” Ron said
breathlessly, his eyes drifting toward her large middle section and furrowing in confusion. “What
have you been eating?”

Hermione bit corrected him sternly. “I'm with child Ron, not overly stuffed.”

His eyes widened as they shifted from her to her stomach and to Harry, connecting the pieces of
the puzzle. “You're with ch-child? *Harry's* child?”

“Yes.” She said, no longer containing her amusement and letting her lips widen into a coy
smile.

“How? When did you—?” Harry opened up his mouth to reply and Ron cut him off with a shake of his
head. “Never mind, I don't want to know.”

“Ron?” A voice called from within the home. “Ron, who's at the door?”

“It's Hermione, mum!” Ron called back. “It's Harry and Hermione!”

“Ooh!” Her excited voice sounded. “Well let them in! I've just made some treacle tarts!”

Ron rolled his eyes and opened the door to his two friends. They followed him inside and to the
sitting room. Harry and Hermione occupied a loveseat while Ron took a spot across from them in a
plush chair. They sat in silence for what felt like eternity when Molly finally entered the room
with a plate full of treats.

“There you are.” She said, setting down the tray on a table between them. She looked at the
couple sitting on the sofa. “Hermione, how wonderful it is to have you back, dear.”

“It's good to be back, Molly.” She responded, consciously hugging her hands around her
midsection as if she could somehow hide it.

The elder witch's eyes drifted to where her hands moved and Hermione felt her face grow
warm. Molly gave her a knowing look. “My how you've grown.”

She bit her lip and avoided her eyes, only nodding in response.

The red-haired woman smiled at the blushing girl. She had known Hermione for a long time, even
considered her an adopted daughter, and she had always known her to be a responsible girl. Whatever
situation she put herself in she could always make the best out of. And now with Harry's hand
clutched in her own at the base of her enlarged abdomen she could plainly see that their
predicament was not one that should be frowned upon by anyone, least of all by those who had ever
seen the two together in the past.

She wanted to voice this to the younger witch but decided against it as she fidgeted in her
seat, her eyes downcast. It was clear that she was uncomfortable under her gaze and Molly made a
note to talk to her when they were alone. It was enough to talk to Ron about it, let alone his
mother!

“Would you like some tea?” She asked kindly. “You look positively exhausted.”

Harry nodded and accepted her offer.

Hermione kept her gaze downward as she spoke in a soft tone. “Just water with lemon for me, if
it's not too much trouble.”

Molly smiled in understanding. “Of course. I'll be back in a nip.”

After she exited the room, Hermione let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Harry
squeezed her hand and sent her a reassuring smile. She caught his gaze and thanked him silently
with a smile of her own.

“So,” Ron said, interrupting their moment. They both turned to look at him and he glanced at
them each in turn. “Tell me everything.”

And so, for the next hour or so, Harry and Hermione filled him in as to what had transpired from
after Hermione's trial to where they were now, skipping over the details he was already aware
of. When Molly reentered the room, thankfully after they had gone through their last night together
before Hermione left, she took a seat on a nearby couch and listened in. She and Ron remained
silent until both Harry and Hermione were finished retelling the tale.

“And now here we are,” Harry finished as Hermione took a sip of the now lukewarm water in front
of her. “Back in Gryffindor and ready to move on with our lives.”

“My goodness.” Molly breathed. “You poor dears. I cannot believe what that… that… *harlot*
put you through!”

“Mum!” Ron said, looking at his mother with a horrified expression.

“What?” Molly said, looking at her son, nonplussed. “Have you got a better word to describe
her?”

“Uh… I…” Ron sputtered, not knowing how to respond.

“I couldn't have said it any better myself.” Harry filled in. “But everything's fine
now, Molly. It's all behind us.”

“I should hope so.” She said. “I don't know if you could take anymore of this strain, Harry
- first Voldemort, then this. I don't know how you manage. You truly have the strongest
heart.”

Harry smiled softly. “I couldn't have done any of it without a little help from those who
are closest to me.” He gave a meaningful look directed at Ron and shared a lingering gaze with
Hermione, whose face was beginning to color once more.

“What about Cedric and Clara?” Ron asked. “Where are they now?”

“I expect somewhere near Hufflepuff by now.” Hermione said. “Cedric insisted on delivering my
belongings personally. Clara volunteered to accompany him.”

“Who would have thought,” Ron mused. “Cedric Diggory helping bring you back to Gryffindor.”

“It is quite odd once you think about it.” Hermione confessed. “But I couldn't be more
thankful. He's a great friend. I hope he takes my invitation to visit often.”

“Oh I'm sure he will.” Harry said.

The four settled into a comfortable silence until an odd look settled into Ron's features,
his eyes settling on Harry. It took him a moment to feel Ron's gaze on him and he smiled
awkwardly.

“Something the matter, Ron?”

“No,” He answered, a sly grin on his face. “I just remembered that Fred and George dropped off a
package for you. I think it's a new sampling of their newest products. It's in my
room.”

A twinkle shone in Harry's eye and he shot up, effectively dropping Hermione hand in the
process. Both he and Ron turned to her, silently asking for permission. The tense atmosphere was
broken and she held back a laugh, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

“Go on, then.” She said with a wave of her hand. “Have your fun.”

“Thanks `Mione.” Harry said, swiping down to give her a brief kiss on the cheek before following
Ron out of the room and up the stairs to his chambers.

“Some things never change.” She said to herself.

Adjusting her position on the loveseat she realized that she was now alone in the room with
Molly - a woman who had been her surrogate mother since she had entered the Wizarding World, a
woman who had kept her safe when Harry was away hunting Horcruxes, a woman whose opinion she held
very highly.

Although she had not seemed to be disappointed or judgmental in any way when she and Harry were
talking, Hermione couldn't be sure as she avoided the elder witch's gaze once more and
choose instead to focus on the velvet cushioning of her seat. Knowing her to be an old-fashioned
and opinionated woman, she couldn't bear it if Molly disapproved of her choices.

“There's no need to shy away from me, Hermione.” She said bluntly after a tense silence,
taking a sip of tea. “I'm not going to bite.”

Tentatively, Hermione lifted her head and met her eyes for the first time. They were a dark
shade of brown and held so much wisdom and life that it was hard not to be intimidated by her.
Hermione had not felt so before, never having a reason to do so. But now, with the child in her
stomach and a left hand bare of a ring, she had never felt so small.

She wanted to speak, to tell her… what? That she was sorry? That she wasn't shying away from
her? Neither of those things was true. Her mouth was glued shut, no phrase coming to mind in which
to reply. She inwardly cursed Ron and Harry for leaving.

“Hermione.” Molly said softly. “It's alright”

“What is?” She felt herself respond automatically.

“Everything.” Molly spoke sincerely. She looked at the younger witch and saw her tense posture
relax slightly. “I know how you and Harry feel about each other. I've known for a long time.
Whatever transpired between you was a product of fate and time and any product of that should be
looked upon as a gift. I'm not sure if that'll ease your mind or not but just know that I
love you both as if you were my own children no matter what and that will never change.”

Hermione's eyes filled with unshed tears at Molly's kind words. “Thank you, Molly.”

“You're welcome, dear.” She responded softly. “Now, why don't you tell me all about it,
woman to woman?”

Hermione breathed out a laugh. “Where do I start?”

By the time Ron and Harry had returned, Hermione and Molly were in mid conversation about
morning sickness. They both stopped talking, however, when they saw both men covered in what
appeared to be fairy dust.

“What in Merlin's name happened?” Molly asked as Hermione covered her mouth to stop herself
from laughing.

“New… invention.” Harry wheezed.

“Explain later.” Ron said in a similar state of breathlessness, clutching his side.

“Well clean yourselves up!” Molly reprimanded in annoyance. “You're getting that stuff all
over the floor.” With that said she gathered up the used goblets and hurried back to the
kitchen.

They both swiftly performed quick cleaning charms on themselves and smiled timidly. Hermione
rolled her eyes and bustled over to them both and brushed stray dust from their hair. When she was
done with Harry, he clutched her hand in his own and smiled mischievously down at her. Before she
could protest, he leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

“Ugh, gross!” Ron moaned from beside them. “Get a room!”

Harry smirked and pulled away, leaving Hermione winded and frazzled as she looked blankly up at
him. “Fine, we will. We still need to finish unpacking anyway, right love?”

“Right.” She said breathlessly, shaking herself out of whatever trance she had been under.

Harry smirked and snaked an arm around her waist. “We'll see you later, then. Come on round
for dinner. Invite everyone. We're having a feast!”

Hermione raised a brow at his enthusiasm. “For what occasion?”

“You return of course!” He said pulling her close to him and placing a tender kiss on the top of
her head. “Only friends and family allowed, though. Don't want to make too much of a fuss.”

“No of course not.” Hermione said sarcastically. She knew any fest thrown at the castle was
bound to be huge no matter who was in attendance.

“Well you can count me in.” Ron said happily, grinning at the premise of gratuitous amounts of
food. “I think Ginny may be coming in from her studies tonight as well.”

“Great!” Harry exclaimed. “Have you been keeping her updated on what's been happening?”

“To the best of my knowledge.” Ron answered, casting a meaningful glance at Hermione's
enlarged stomach. “You're going to have *a lot* of explaining to do tonight. Mum was only
the beginning.”

“Looking forward to it.” Hermione said, though she felt she might vomit at the prospect.

“We'd best be off and prepare, then.” Harry said, catching Hermione's expression.
“We'll see you tonight.”

Ron nodded and left to inform his family of their new plans for the night. Harry and Hermione
exited the estate with a large burden off of their shoulders. Though the promise of more talking
and explanations still loomed over them and added a bit more pressure than they originally
bargained for. The important thing was that they were together and the only danger that plagued
them was the reaction of the rest of the redheaded family and a few other friends that would be
invited for the festivities.

“You really don't have to throw a feast in my honor, you know.” Hermione said as they
re-entered the castle.

“I know. But I want to.” He said. “And you want me to be happy, don't you?”

“Oh, don't you use that with me.” Hermione said in distaste, though she knew it was
working.

He chuckled, fully aware she wouldn't put up much more of a fight, as they ascended the
stairs to his chamber. Though she had already walked this corridor since she's returned she
still couldn't believe how much she'd missed it. The scarlet and gold tapestries, the
ornate hanging candles, the long plush rugs that gave off the smell of fresh cleaners, it was all
just as she had remembered.

They entered Harry's chambers and he shut the doors behind them. She ventured to his bed and
took a seat upon the plush covers. He smiled and plopped down beside her, causing the mattress to
bounce slightly beneath them.

“Tired?” Harry asked, noticing her slightly hollow eyes.

“Just a bit.” Hermione said truthfully. “It's mostly just my back, though. It's been
bothering me since we ate this morning.”

“Really?” Harry asked, straightening up with a worried expression on his face. “Why didn't
you say anything?”

“Oh, it's not that bad.” She said, though the wince between her words convinced him
otherwise. “Besides, I didn't want to be a bother with such a petty thing as aches.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You really need to think of yourself sometimes, Hermione.”

Hermione gave him a look and he contained a laugh. Without getting permission or informing her
of what he was doing, he moved so that he was sitting behind her, sliding forward so that she was
situated comfortably behind his legs. She melted into his embrace out of reflex. Before she could
get too comfortable in their new position, he lifted up his arms and began to gently massage her
shoulders.

“Harry…” She started.

“Shh.” He interrupted. “Just relax.”

She huffed out an irritated breath but did as she was told. She allowed herself to relax as his
nimble hands began to rub and knead her sore muscles. He made a trail down her spine and she
shivered as he hit the exact spot where she had been aching earlier. Harry took her reaction as a
positive sign and focused his attention on that area. He was rewarded with a sigh of pleasure.

He continued his ministrations for a few minutes, rubbing his hands delicately along her back,
eliciting positive reactions that sent his innocent intentions in a completely opposite direction.
After she let out a long moan he could take it no more. He bent down his head to rest on her thin
neck, placing gentle kisses along the exposed skin. She reacted instantly and leaned into him more.
He took this as a sign to be bold and stuck out his tongue, licking and nibbling away at her tender
flesh.

She breathed out his name. “Harry.”

Smirking against her, he pulled back and removed his hand from her back, cradling her face in
his and placing a warm kiss against her lips. Her reaction was instantaneous and she angled herself
to face him, deepening the kiss. Her hands wrapped around his waist as he trailed his hand down to
her breast.

Suddenly, she pulled back. Harry let out a moan of protest and she laughed. “We came back to
unpack, remember?”

“It can wait.” He said, leaning back in and attaching his lips on her ear, nibbling gently.

Hermione held back a moan and pushed him back, her resolve quickly dissipating. “No, it
can't. Not with the feast you've planned for tonight. Have you even told the cooks?”

“No.” He said, leaning his head against hers. “But I can send an owl and they'll have it
ready by the time the guests arrive.” He began placing soft kisses from her cheek down to the base
of her neck.

“Have you invited…” She trailed off and let out a low groan as he hit a tender spot of her skin,
“…the over guests?”

“No.” He answered, pulling away from her neck and capturing her lips once more. He spoke
in-between long kisses. “But I… can owl… them too…”

Hermione was close to giving in but she knew that they had work to do before they could properly
reunite. With a final long, lingering kiss, she pulled back. Harry's bottom lip stuck out into
a pout and she avoided his gaze.

“We have to prepare, Harry. I'll send the owls and you can begin unpacking.”

“But—Ë®

She put a finger on his lips to stop him, smiling coyly. “If we finish early maybe we can
continue… reacquainting.”

Harry broke out into a grin as she pulled her finger away. Quicker than she had ever seen him
move, he made a beeline to his desk where his travel sack was still perched and began unpacking.
Hermione barely suppressed her amusement as she followed him and pulled out his stationary from a
drawer. She cleared off a small space on the desk and grabbed a quill, beginning the first
invitation.

After a while, Harry returned to the desk and set down something on the desk beside her right
hand. She was just finishing up the final letter and looked up briefly to see what he had placed
near her. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the familiar ornate box.

“Harry.” She said.

“Yeah?” He called from the other side of the room where he was hanging up one of his coats.

“Is that my coronation present?”

He looked over at her and smiled. “Yeah.”

“You brought it with you?” She asked, setting down the quill and picking up the box. She had
forgotten about the gift she had had Cedric slip into the pile of presents.

“I bring it everywhere with me.” He said simply, coming to kneel beside her.

“Really?” She asked, looking over at him meaningfully. “Why?”

“It kept me motivated during the election.” He said. “It was the final push I needed to get you
back. Your note was just the thing I had been waiting for to finally go all in.”

Hermione's eyes shined and she leaned forward to kiss him. He returned it momentarily and
pulled away, looking at her teasingly. “You know I still have no idea what's inside the
box.”

Hermione laughed quietly. “That was the point.”

“Do I get to see it now that you've finally returned?” He asked, true curiosity flickering
in his eyes.

Hermione nodded, reaching for the chain she had wrapped around her neck. Harry hadn't
noticed it before, its golden tone blending in with her sun kissed skin. On the end of the chain
was a charm in the shape of a heart. Harry observed her curiously as she tilted the box on its side
and inserted the key, twisting it three times. The top of the box audibly snapped open and Hermione
removed the disguised key. She handed him the box gingerly and he briefly looked at her before
lifting the top and peeking inside.

The inside of the top had the Gryffindor crest carved with such detail it looked as though the
lion was going to jump out of it. It was painted with the kingdom's colors, matching the
scarlet velvet casing which held something more awe-inspiring.

It was simplistic in design but that, Harry thought, made it so much more beautiful. It was a
gold-chained bracelet with a single pendant dangling off of it. He expected it to be another
Gryffindor crest but as he picked up the piece he saw that it was instead his own family crest. His
expression must have depicted something other than his true emotion at the gift, for Hermione
placed a hand on his shoulder and asked in a soft whisper.

“Are you all right, Harry?”

“I'm fine.” He said, clutching the bracelet in his fist and turning to face Hermione. She
was wearing a face of concern. “I'm just… I'm speechless.”

She looked at him oddly. “Is that a good thing?”

He chuckled. “It's a *great* thing.”

“So you like it?” She asked, her eyes sparkling with glee.

“Oh, much more than that.” He said, pulling her close to him and squeezing her as tight as he
dared. “I love it.”

Although he couldn't see it, she smiled as she returned his embrace. They stood like that
for a good few minutes, each one lost in their own thoughts. After feeling a small prod against her
stomach Hermione pulled back, an amused expression on her face.

“I think the baby wants to breathe.”

Harry nodded and put the box back on the table. He looked back at her, a question glinting in
his eyes. “Would you mind putting it on for me?”

She grinned. “Certainly.”

He held out the bracelet to her and she placed it delicately on his wrist. As she was bringing
the clasps together he stared at her. “What did I ever do to earn such a magnificent gift?”

Hermione clicked her tongue and closed the piece with a soft snap. “It was no trouble at all,
really. I actually got the box relatively cheap given the—Ë®

“I wasn't talking about your coronation present.” He interrupted with a furtive smirk.

She scrunched up her nose and hit him playfully on the shoulder. “That was a bit cheesy.”

He caught her fit in his hand and pulled her close. Her breathing stopped as their faces were
pulled within mere inches of each other's. “You liked it.” He said in a low voice.

She pressed her lips together, looking up with him through hooded lashes. “I admit nothing.”

“Of course you don't.” He said with mock annoyance before leaning in and kissing her.

She pulled away after a moment, remembering why they had stopped in the first place. “We still
need to send out those invitations if you want to have that feast at dinner.”

He groaned but after a minute of Hermione's stern reasoning and wide eyes he eventually gave
in. He resigned to finish unpacking his belongings while Hermione finished sealing the final
letters with Harry's personal seal. A few minutes and handful of letters later, Hermione gave
into the king's attentions. She handed the letters to one of the staff and before she could
shut the door, she resigned herself to being ravished, forgetting instantly why she had put it off
earlier.

~*~

“And so I say to her `Hey, you can't eat that! That's gillyweed!”

The table burst out in laughter as Ron finished his story. Despite the late notice, the feast
turned out quite a crowd. Two-thirds of the Weasley family was in attendance, which was quite the
accomplishment to those who knew the family well. Various members of the Order including Albus
Dumbledore himself also had seats. The only two people missing in Harry and Hermione's eyes
were Clara and Cedric, but they wouldn't be in Gryffindor for another week.

Ginny had ended up making it to Gryffindor just in the nick of time and bounded through the
castle doors like the hurricane she was. She bombarded both Harry and Hermione with questions and
congratulations just as the feast was being served, causing both to give rushed explanations with
the promise of more after the festivities.

“Will there be a ball? I've missed the balls here so much!” She had asked as soon as the
feast was underway.

“Hermione shot that idea down.” Harry responded with amusement. “Said it would take too much
planning and all that nonsense.”

“Ì”All that nonsense' is weeks of preparation.” Hermione defended. “Do you remember how long
it took to plan the Freedom Ball? You nearly gave the staff all heart attacks when you demanded a
feast.”

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking. “Remind me to give them each a gift in
gratitude.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and that's when Ron began to humor the table with his stories from
when Harry and Hermione were absent. He had just finished the last one just as dessert was being
served. The couple didn't mind him talking everyone's heads off. In fact, they both were
rather relived that he was taking the attention away from them for the time being. Hermione
wondered vaguely if he was doing it on purpose when she caught his eye and he winked at her. She
reminded herself to give her own gift of gratitude to her ginger-haired savior.

She took another bite of her tart when she felt an unsettling sensation in her abdomen. Her hand
reached out automatically. It was a brief ache - so miniscule that she convinced herself she had
imagined it. Shaking her head, she reached back for her fork and dropped it as soon as her hand
touched the silver. The sting was longer this time, letting her know that she wasn't imagining
things.

Harry looked at her in concern, placing a hand atop the one that had just slammed against the
table. “Are you alright, `Mione?”

“I… I uhh…” She stuttered. She was bracing herself for another unsettling jab when she felt
something wet glide down the inside of her thigh. Her eyes widened. “I think the baby's
coming.”

“You… you what?” He sputtered. “You *think* the baby's coming?”

She looked down at the floor, pulling up her skirts to see a clear wet spot on the marble. Her
body tensed up as she looked at Harry and whispered as quite as she could muster. “Scratch that.
The baby is definitely coming.”

Harry's eyes widened to the size of saucers as he looked around the table. Everyone was
still wrapped up in Ron's next story about a rather pesky bookseller. He turned back to
Hermione and spoke so quickly that she could only just understand what he was asking.
“Whatarewes'pposedtodo?”

“Stay calm.” She said, though she was beginning to feel a bit flush herself. “We don't want
to cause a scene. Just excuse us from the hall and get me to my bedroom.”

Harry nodded. He grasped her hand in his and helped her up. Their sudden movement alerted the
people surrounding them and Ron quickly stopped mid-sentence. Harry gulped and carried on in the
calmest tone he could muster.

“The Lady Hermione and I are both very tired from our journey.” He spoke firmly. “I thank you
all for coming tonight but must bid you all good evening. Please, stay and finish your dessert and
if you are in need of a place to stay overnight talk to Sirius and he will make arrangements for
you.”

Ron looked quizzically at his friends and knew immediately that something was amiss. After a
mixture of “Good night” and “Thanks for the invitation” statements from around the table they left
the hall, slow enough so as to not be suspicious but quick enough to alert someone who had known
them longer than most that there was something strange going on.

Harry was quick to place a hand on her back and hold her steady as they exited the hall. She
thanked him under her breath and they continued up the stairs. As they rounded a corner in the
direction of Hermione's old chambers, they heard quick footfalls behind them.

They didn't need to turn around to know who it was as he began shouting for them to stop.
Hermione, albeit reluctantly, ceased walking and turned the two of them to face Ron. He was looking
at them with a confused expression.

“What's going on?”

Harry, now back to his former state of panic, answered in a single breath.
“Hermione'shavinthebabyandweneedtogethertohertoomrightnowbecauseshe'sinpainandIdon'tknowhatodohMerlinhelpmeIfeelsodamnuseless.”

Hermione resisted the urge to smack some sense into him as she translated his mush of an
explanation to a still puzzled-looking Ron. “I'm having the baby. I just went into labor at
dinner and now Harry is escorting me back to my chambers.”

Ron's mouth dropped open.

Hermione winced as another pain stabbed her stomach and made her see stars. She had to lie down
soon or else she wouldn't be able to stand up. She took a deep breath and spoke as calmly as
she could muster. “Find the mediwitch in her office and then alert Sirius. Can you do that for me,
Ron?”

He nodded, still speechless.

“Well go on!” She snapped, her patience beginning to wear thin.

He quickly turned on his heel and sprinted down the corridor. She sighed and turned to Harry.
“Let's go.”

He followed her orders without speaking, afraid if he did it would just come out in a jumble
like it had before. Within the span of a few minutes they arrived at her door and he wandlessly
unlocked and pushed it open. Feeling a bit more confident and less light-headed, he scooped
Hermione up into his arms and carried her the distance to her bed.

He helped her get comfortable by fluffing pillows and gathering up blankets. He saw Hermione
flinch and clutch her side but otherwise remain silent. He could only imagine what she was going
through right now and yet he was the one acting like a scared and confused child with no grasp on
the situation whatsoever.

He sat down at her side and put his arm around her shoulders. She sighed and leaned into
him.

“We're having a baby.” She said softly.

“Yeah.” He said breathlessly. “It's all happening so fast… a week ago I didn't even know
if I would see you again and now we're having a baby together.”

“I keep forgetting how little of time you've had to process this all.” She said softly,
looking at him through tired eyes. “I've had months but you… you've had days. How have you
not lost your mind?”

“Oh, I've completely lost my mind.” He said in upmost seriousness. “I've just hidden it
under my invisibility cloak to find another day.”

Hermione let out a breath of laughter before the longest and most painful jab yet punctured her
stomach. She let out a whimper as she waited for it to pass, Harry's arm holding onto her
tightly. When she felt relief, she leaned back as her breaths came out in short puffs.

“I love you.” She said.

He looked at her curiously. “I love you too?”

She let out a breathy chuckle. “I just want to tell you before I start saying things I know
I'll regret in a few hours.”

“Like what?” He asked in confusion.

“You'll see.” She said curtly.

After a few moments of silence there was a bustling at the door and a woman dressed in gray and
white robes came into the room. She was clearly out of breath and had a slight pink tinge to her
cheeks. She was carrying a brown leather bag that was slung around her shoulder and Harry heard a
dull clanging of what he assumed were medical supplies.

“I was told… there was a… a baby that needed delivering.” She said with slight question at the
end.

“Yes.” Harry said, getting up to greet the mediwitch. “She… she said she was having the baby
about ten minutes ago.”

The mediwitch looked at Harry with a knowing glance and turned to Hermione. “When did you start
having contractions, dear?”

“About ten minutes ago like Harry… *tried* to say.” She looked teasingly at the befuddled
king.

“And how far apart would you say they have been occurring?” The older witched asked, setting
down her bag on a nearby chair and making a beeline to Hermione.

“A few minutes.”

“Already?” The mediwitch asked more to herself.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, worry beginning to churn in her already paining stomach.

“Oh, nothing dear.” She said, placing a hand on Hermione's forehead and feeling her
temperature. “It just means this is going to be a very quick delivery.”

“That's a good thing, I hope?” Hermione asked.

“I should say so.” She said. “The quicker the delivery, the more brief the pain.”

As if pre-planned, another contraction wracked Hermione's body. She yelped and held the back
of the bed. Harry rushed over to her and grabbed her hand in his. He wasn't prepared for her to
nearly break his hand. He bit back a cry of pain and focused on being there for Hermione. Whatever
he was feeling, she was probably suffering ten times as much. Just when he though his fingers might
fall off from lack of circulation, her hand slackened. He exhaled deeply out his nose and dared to
look over at her. Her brow was slick with sweat and her breathing was labored one more.

“Wipe her forehead with this.” A kind voice spoke from beside him.

He turned and saw the smiling face of the mediwitch. He took the cloth from her wrinkled hand
and placed it atop Hermione's damp skin. She sighed at the contact with the cool cloth.

“Would you like any potions for the pain, dear? I'm afraid they won't do much but
something is better than nothing, I always say.”

“That would be lovely, thank you Miss…?” Hermione trailed off.

“Pomfrey. Poppy Pomfrey.” The mediwitch answered.

“Madame Pomfrey.” Hermione repeated with a tired smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She bowed. “I'll just fish out a few from my pack. Excuse me.”

The matron retreated to the other side of the room and began rummaging through the leather bag
she had brought in with her. At first she seemed to find what she needed quickly and without
hassle, putting a few bottles onto a nearby table, but after a minute without grabbing anything she
huffed and reached her arm far into its depths. Her entire forearm up to her elbow disappeared
seemingly into the chair beneath but neither Harry nor Hermione saw it emerge on the other side.
They were both familiar with expendable charms and shared a quiet laugh at the humorous scene.

Madame Pomfrey returned to the bedside with an armful of bottles and a few empty glasses. She
set the pile onto the bedside table and Hermione looked on with wide eyes.

“Are you sure those are all safe?” She asked in a high-pitched tone.

“Of course, my dear.” She responded pointedly. “But not to worry. You can drink them all now so
we don't have to fret about round-the-clock digestion all the way through delivery.”

Hermione nodded and then abruptly stiffened as she reached for Harry's hand again. She
crushed it in her own as another wave of pain wracked her body. She let out her loudest cry yet and
Harry looked at the matron pleadingly.

“Isn't there anything you can do?”

She finished pouring a murky green substance into one of the empty glasses and looked at him
plainly. “Anything I can do I am already doing. These potions are the only thing that can help with
the pain. Other than that you may want to consider having me wrap up that hand of yours by the time
the birth is over.”

Harry resisted the urge to groan and turned back to Hermione who had just slackened her grip. He
reached for the towel he had used earlier and wiped her brown once more as Madame Pomfrey poured
the first potion into her welcoming lips. She gulped it down quickly, scrunching up her face at the
foul smell.

“What's *in* that?” She asked, desperately wanting a glass of water to wash down the
bitter aftertaste.

“Trust me, dear, you don't want to know.” The mediwitch said simply.

There was a knock on the door and all three heads turned to see a bashful looking Ron and Sirius
standing in the doorway.

“You go take care of the guests while I finish giving Miss Granger here the potions.” Madame
Pomfrey said.

Harry leaned over and kissed Hermione's forehead before turning around and greeting his two
friends.

“How is she?” Sirius asked, peeking over his shoulder.

“Stronger than ever.” Harry replied, flexing his sore hand at his side.

“That's our girl.” He replied proudly. “And how are you, son?”

“Better than before, I hope?” Ron asked jokingly. “I swear, mate, you looked like you were about
to pass out faster than Hermione.”

Harry flinched. “Well, I'm better now. The mediwitch is giving Hermione some potions for the
pain but she said it would be a quick birth given Hermione's contractions.”

“That's good.” Sirius said, nodding.

Harry turned to Ron. “Did you tell anyone else?”

He shook his head. “Not even mum or Ginny. Figured Hermione wouldn't appreciate two
screaming women bustling about while she's all… well… you know.”

Harry chuckled. “I'm sure she wouldn't have minded too much.”

“Why do you say that?” The ginger-haired wizard asked curiously.

“Well—Ë®

“HARRY YOU GET YOUR BLEEDING ARSE BACK HERE RIGHT - THIS - SECOND!”

Harry started and looked over to where Hermione was glaring at him through narrowed eyes. Madame
Pomfrey had just summoned her bag of supplies and pulled out a large red cloth that she was
spreading on the bed underneath Hermione's legs.

“Oh. Right.” Ron said in a whimper.

Harry rushed over to her side and reached for her extended hand. Though his irritated muscles
and bones begged him not to, he let her hold onto it with all her might as she battled through the
longest and most gruesome of the pains.

Madame Pomfrey finished positioning the cloth and ceremoniously lifted up Hermione's skirts.
She removed whatever was in her way with a simple flick of her hand and Harry could feel Ron and
Sirius's faces grow red as they averted their eyes.

“You're almost ready, Miss Granger.” The matron spoke as she lifted her head. “Just a
centimeter or two more and then we can get ready to push.”

“*We*? Who is *we*?!” Hermione shouted. “I don't see any of you with a crowning
head coming out of your insides!”

Harry would have laughed if she still didn't have his hand clutched so firmly - and
*painfully* - in hers. In fact, he felt more like crying or shouting profanities himself.

“Do you want us to, err, leave?” Ron asked in a tone that hinted that he wouldn't mind a bit
if she did.

“No!” Hermione said sharply. “You'll stay right here.”

“Are you sure?” Ron asked, his voice raising in pitch.

“DID I STUTTER, RONALD WEASLEY?”

“N-no.” He said, practically cowering. “W-we'll stay. Right, Sirius?”

“Of course.” He said, giving off a much calmer air than Ron. “It would be an honor witnessing
the birth of your child, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Sirius.” Hermione said softly. “At least *someone* in this room wants to be
here.”

“Oy!” Harry exclaimed.

Hermione turned to look at Harry with a twinkle in her eyes. “You're biologically
programmed. You don't count.”

Harry harrumphed. Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned over to kiss him on his cheek briefly. She
barely set her head back on the pillow when another contraction wracked waves of pain over her. She
was beginning to think it would split her in half.

“It's time.” Madame Pomfrey said.

Hermione would have sighed in relief but the pain had only just subsided and her body screamed
for a break from it all. She had fought Death Eaters, had her heart broken, and been cursed within
an inch of death but none of those feelings dared to compare with the anguish she was experiencing
now, though it was the only one destined to bring about a positive result.

“Are you ready?” The matron asked, positioned at the foot of the bed.

She had positioned Hermione's legs without her realizing it and although her mind screamed
in protest, she spoke in a strong voice. “Yes.”

The next few minutes were filled with more pain than Hermione could describe. The contractions
paled in comparison. Her mind was nearly blank. All she could register was the commands she was
giving to herself to push. She needed to bring this child into the world. After everything that had
transpired this was the miracle they deserved. She vaguely heard herself cursing Harry and his part
in making her hurt like this and then turning on both Sirius and Ron as well for being male. All
remarks she would regret later but at the time she wanted nothing more than the rip everyone's
head off, including her own to end the suffering.

With a final push, the screaming of a newborn filled the chamber. Hermione collapsed into the
pillows behind her as Madame Pomfrey removed the child from the connection with its mother and
placed it on the table she had ordered Ron to make with more supplies from her bag.

“You did it.” Harry said, pride radiating from his expression. “You did it, Hermione.”

“I… did it.” She mumbled, feeling fatigue begin to creep up on her. She willed herself to stay
awake as her eyes went over to the table where her crying baby was being cleaned up.

“What is it?” Ron asked.

“It's a baby, Ron.” Sirius said, looking at Ron with a cocked eyebrow.

“I know that!” He said irately. “I mean… is it a boy or girl?”

The mediwitch finished cleaning up the newborn and wrapped it in a blanket she had draped over
her shoulder. “Congratulations, Hermione. You've brought a lovely baby girl into the world
tonight.”

“A girl.” Hermione breathed.

“A daughter.” Harry whispered at the same time.

Madame Pomfrey walked over to the couple and handed the bundle over to Hermione, whose arms
wrapped around it like a precious stone that would break if handled too roughly. The baby's
crying faded away in the arms of her mother. Hermione looked down at the face of her daughter and
felt a surge of love that she had never felt before. It was the purest, most natural feeling she
had ever know. The love for her child came as easy as breathing.

She looked at Harry, whose expression mirrored the way she felt.

“She's so beautiful.” He said quietly.

“The most beautiful thing I've ever seen.” Hermione agreed.

Harry looked up into her eyes and they both smiled. The baby let out a gurgling noise and they
both looked down as it opened its eyes to reveal two emerald orbs.

“She has your eyes.” Hermione said softly.

“And your hair.” Harry responded, reaching over and caressing their daughter's tuft of
cinnamon locks.

“I wanna see!” Ron said eagerly.

Hermione laughed and held the bundle in her arms over to Harry and he cradled her to his chest.
He raised himself from the bed and carried her over to where Ron and Sirius stood. Both men turned
to mush at the sight of the child and began making comments in high-pitched voices they would later
deny about the cuteness of her little hands and adorable upturned nose.

“Does she have a name?” Madame Pomfrey asked.

Harry looked over to Hermione who had a thoughtful expression on her face. The name that tumbled
out of her lips came almost as easily as the answer to a question on one of her old school exams.
“Liliana.”

There was a brief silence following the name. Madame Pomfrey broke the silence by repeating the
name out loud. “Liliana Potter.”

Ron looked over at Hermione. “How did you come up with that?”

“Well… it combines Harry's mothers name and my mother's middle name.” Hermione answered
easily. “When I was thinking of names I wanted to honor both sides of our families. I considered
James Edward if it was a boy and… well up until now I had a bit of trouble coming up with a
girl's name for some reason. If you don't like it we can—Ë®

“I love it.” Harry interrupted. “It's perfect.”

Hermione smiled at him and looked at the mediwitch. “Liliana Potter it is.”

She smiled at her and nodded.

“I get to be the godfather, right?” Ron asked, looking in-between Harry and Hermione. “Sirius is
already Harry's and I practically got the two of you together in the first place.”

Harry rolled his eyes as Hermione answered through a laugh. “We'll see.”

Ron took it as good enough as an answer and went back to cooing at the baby. After a moment,
Harry handed her off to him and approached Hermione's bed. The tiredness was beginning to show
through her tough exterior. He kneeled down next to her and took her hands in his.

“I'm so tired, Harry.” She said softly, her eyelids heavy with fatigue.

“I know, love.” He said, caressing the top of her hand with his thumb. “But I need to ask you
something before you sleep, okay?”

“Okay, but hurry. I think one of the potions I took was a sleeping draft.” She joked.

Through his own haziness, he spoke, knowing that this moment was as perfect as any to voice what
has been plaguing his mind since he first laid eyes on her in Clara's entryway. “Hermione
we've been through so much. Not just these last few months but before that with the war and
everything in-between. After we knocked out that Death Eater things have never been quite the
same.” Hermione laughed tiredly. “And everything, even the bad, I wouldn't trade for the world
because I believe chance pulled you, me, and Ron together. But it was fate that made me fall in
love with you.”

“Harry…” She started.

“Wait, just one more minute.” He said. She nodded and he continued. “You should know by now that
I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I've wanted you to be my queen since I was eleven
years old, even if I didn't realize it yet.”

“Are you asking me what I think you are?” Hermione asked, her heart beating so fast she feared
it would jump out of her chest.

He answered her with another question. “Hermione, will you marry me?”

She smiled widely. “Harry I've been waiting for you to ask that for nearly a decade.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it's a yes, you twat!”

He laughed and gathered her up in his arms for a warm embrace. They held onto each other tightly
for a few moments before Harry felt Hermione grow limp in his arms, her breathing slowing to a
relaxed pace. He pulled back and saw her eyes closed with a smile plastered on her face. He
chuckled under his breath and laid her down on the bed, pulling the covers up over her. He looked
down at her sleeping form and then over to where Sirius and Ron were playing with their newborn
child and wondered how he got so lucky. He had two beautiful girls in his life and felt a great
sense of excitement bubble up in his chest at the thought of their future together.

For the future in Harry Potter's life looked bright for the first time since he could
remember. There were no Dark Lord's to defeat, no banishments to be overruled, and no dark
clouds looming in the horizon. The kingdom of Gryffindor was at peace at the command and protection
of its noble king, his most trusted night, and the women who stole his heart at his side.

All was well.
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