Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction using characters and elements from the world of Harry Potter, created and trademarked by JK Rowling. I do not claim ownership over any Harry Potter characters or the Harry Potter world. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and is not claiming to be any part of the Harry Potter canon. Thank you to JK Rowling for letting me play with the characters and not suing me for writing them into a new situation.
This story was written for the Tomione Fest that was hosted on A03 by the Tomione fanfics Facebook group. It was based on a prompt, and originally had a word limit of 50k. It tied for the winner of Best AU, and tied for the runner-up of Best Cover Art. (You may be able to see the cover art better on the A03 version, or my Maloreiy Webster author page on Facebook.)
If you have read the competition version, please note that the story (including the ending) is mainly the same. There are some minor expansions in the form of a couple of extra MIDDLE chapters. Those chapters were added on towards the latter third of the story, beginning with Chapter 14. So if you want to read just the "new" version, you can start fresh, or start from Chapter 14. Again, I stress, the ending chapters are the same.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to Ariel Riddle, who not only peer-pressured me into this Fest and single-handedly wrangled me onto the Tomione ship, but never wavered in her support. Even when I was struggling to finish the expansions post-Fest she inspired me and motivated me and was so enthusiastic about this story that I think she dragged it across the finish line herself.
Prompt: King Riddle needs a bride, and he has declared he will marry whoever is smart enough and strong enough to solve his magical riddle.
Warnings: This story is rated T for an instance of torture, as well as light references to murder, torture, slavery, unethical behavior and some other general adult themes. It contains neither explicit violence nor explicit sexual situations.
Light of the Moon
Chapter 1
The first thing she noticed when she entered the city was how clean it was. The streets were plain brick or cobblestones, not a single one missing or out of place. There was no sign of the waste and refuse piled up against the walls of the buildings, or littering the carriageways, that usually marked the streets she traveled back home in Brittania.
Hermione Granger glanced about her, impressed at the cleanliness and order that she could see wherever she looked. Knowing that the country of Ophidia was solely a Wizarding society, completely devoid of Muggles, she had expected the country's capital, Lagus, to be much like Wizarding London.
London was cold and rainy, which meant it was constantly muddy, and while the Muggles used modern technology to keep their part of the city decent, the Wizarding world seemed to prefer the dirtiness and squalor that had marked medieval times. She could never understand how a society that literally had magic at their fingertips could care so little about basic hygiene and aesthetics.
Perhaps it was being the child of two dentists, but she tended to notice and frown upon those things. The merest snap of their fingers could keep their teeth from rotting out of their heads, but no one seemed to think that eventuality was worth worrying about.
She was constantly nagging her two best friends to pay closer attention to such details. Is a Mouth-Refreshing Charm in the morning really too much to ask?
Hermione shook her head at thoughts of the two friends she'd left behind. Throughout their time together at the highly esteemed School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts, the three had been inseparable.
In the years since graduating, Harry and Ron had settled quite nicely into their new lives as adults, obtaining respectable jobs and courting respectable witches—or as close as they could get, anyway. Hermione, though, couldn't focus on what she wanted to do with her life. She thought she wanted a job at the Ministry, and she had that, but she grew tired of trying to push legislation through the mountains of red tape. Wizarding society did not want to change; it was content to stay exactly where it had been, quite happy for the last three hundred years, thank you very much.
She'd tried education, had even taught at Hogwarts for a year. While she found that helping to shape the brilliant young minds of the next generation was extremely gratifying, her life was still missing purpose.
She couldn't help but feel that she was meant to use her magical and mental powers for something bigger, something more. She had jokingly been dubbed 'The Brightest Witch of the Age' by her professors, but she felt like she was moldering away pushing parchment in a government office or harassing a bunch of students to complete their homework.
With a sigh, she stopped walking and pulled a worn piece of parchment out of the pocket of her robes. For what was probably the thousandth time, she read the words there.
Athanasius Marvolo Riddle, King of Ophidia,
in search of a Bride of special Magical Talent and Strength,
invites all Witches of marriageable age within the Wizarding Community,
to a Contest of Magical Power.
The winner,
she who proves to be the Strongest and Smartest
by solving a Magical riddle,
as presented by the King Himself,
will be declared the next Queen of Ophidia.
Please present this invitation to the House Steward at Castle Marvolo for accommodations and registration.
Harry and Ron thought she was completely bent for traveling to Ophidia to compete to be a queen. They'd howled with laughter when she'd shown them the parchment.
They didn't understand that while the challenge itself certainly piqued her interest, it wasn't nearly as enticing as the prospect of being a Queen where magical strength and intelligence were the most sought-after qualities in a ruling monarch. It wasn't that she dreamed of being Queen, no, she'd never had those goals, not even as a young girl. It was the idea of what she could do with a country that wanted to grow, progress, and use its magic to accomplish some good in the world.
The minute she'd read the missive, something had called out to her. Something inside of her tingled in recognition that this was the big something that could make all of her training and all of her studying of some use to society. It was a shame she couldn't have made such an impact on her own countrymen, but she was prepared to adopt a new country, a new people—much like she'd done before when she left the Muggle world for the Wizarding one—who could embrace her ideas and plans for the future.
If she won, of course.
Her research on the Kingdom of Ophidia indicated that they prided themselves greatly on their magical heritage, the royal family of Marvolo claiming to be the descendants of Ptolemy himself. Founded on a belief of separation from Muggle society, magic was freely used, studied, and developed.
It was strange to think of a country that had no Muggles; that was, in fact, completely unknown to Muggles. She was always surprised to see it on Wizarding maps—a small country landlocked right in between several other European countries whose names and capitals she'd memorized as a small child. Of all the extraordinary things she'd learned since discovering she was a witch, the discovery of a Wizarding nation hidden in Europe shouldn't have been any more surprising than the initial discovery of witches and wizards living hidden among Muggles. But to Hermione, the country and its very existence had always been uniquely fascinating.
Crossing the border had been extremely interesting. Even with a magical passport, all visitors were stopped and examined at the border. Though the outpost between Francia and Ophidia had a strong Muggle-Repelling Charm on it and should have been impossible for a Muggle to see, she was still required to prove that she was a witch by performing a few basic spells. Her wand was subject to verification, and a Peace-Bonding spell was placed on it to limit the type of curses and hexes she could cast. She was assured it would be nullified upon her exit from the country.
In addition, she'd submitted to a brief medical examination and then been asked to wait for two hours in a quarantine room to ensure she was not carrying a magical contagion and was not under the effects of a Polyjuice Potion.
She had, of course, had absolutely no trouble, and had been very careful to budget plenty of time to complete the entry procedure.
Hermione thought it was rather refreshing, actually, to know that they were so strict about the type of person who could enter the country, and to know that visitors were restricted from causing harm. She honestly didn't see any reason she should need access to those curses and hexes that were currently denied to her.
Presumably, she would have access to everything she needed to solve the riddle.
She'd wondered at length about what she ought to bring with her on her journey, what might be useful when facing such an unknown challenge. In the end, she'd settled on all of her best gowns, her most comprehensive books on magic, and the rarest tomes in her collection.
She'd spent her life studying magic. Surely if she wasn't already well-prepared, reading one more book couldn't possibly make much of a difference, so she brought very few with her. Based on everything she'd read about Ophidia's schooling system, a Hogwarts education was very much on par with the average citizen's, and Hermione's education had been far more than basic.
She was as ready as she was going to be.
The ball of light she had cast that served as a directional spell, turned down another street, and she followed it, gasping suddenly as the view opened up in front of her, allowing her to catch her first glimpse of the castle.
She'd known it would be beautiful; there was something so lovely about all castles no matter what state they were in. Even the ones that were slowly falling in disrepair had their own charm. But this one was truly lovely.
The white stone sparkled in the sunlight, almost as if a thousand house-elves hand-washed it daily. From the tall turrets she could see flashes of green that must be the huge stained-glass windows she'd read that the castle was famous for.
King Riddle was fond of pretty things and was known to be a huge patron of the arts. His castle was filled with amazing relics of the past—paintings, tapestries, sculptures, musical instruments—as well as several masterpieces that had been commissioned by him directly.
She hoped that she'd get ample opportunity to examine some of them for herself before she left.
Assuming, of course, she didn't win, in which case the entire castle would be hers.
Hermione shook her head, trying to clear it of those thoughts. It was easy to get lost in thought when she was facing the almost unfathomable idea of becoming a powerful and influential queen, with servants and money and a whole kingdom of people looking up to her.
If she spent too long dwelling on those things, she'd lose her focus on solving the riddle. She had no doubt some of her competition had made exactly that same mistake: thinking too much about what they wanted out of winning, rather than how they were going to win.
Hermione had a theory that the key to solving the riddle was knowing about King Riddle himself. How could you grow up with a name like 'Riddle', the surname apparently from his father who had been Prince Consort to the late Queen, and not be delighted by riddles? It didn't surprise her that he chose to make such an important decision based on something as cleverly discriminating as an incredibly difficult riddle.
But since he was presenting the riddle, the answer would likely be something that would suit his own sense of art, magic, strength, and any other qualities or beliefs that he held dear.
She wondered whether being Muggle-born would be an advantage or a disadvantage in this case. In school and in her job it had sometimes allowed her to find solutions by looking at the problem from a different perspective. But sometimes it had hindered her in understanding the logic of the Wizarding mind.
Of course, sometimes she thought that was because there was no emphasis on logic in the average Wizarding mind. They relied so heavily on charms and spells and innate magic to do the impossible, even predict the future, that they rarely analyzed how and why exactly magic worked. That was what made Hermione different. She didn't just accept the reasons she was given, she dug and dug until she found the nugget of truth that she could use and shape to her own needs.
From her research, she believed that Athanasius Marvolo Riddle, King of Ophidia, was a logic-oriented mind. He prized intelligence equally as high as magical ability. He made decisions for his country that, though sometimes harshly judgmental of 'inferior' beings, had a simple effectiveness that Hermione admired very greatly.
Violence and crime were almost entirely eliminated. Food, shelter, and employment were available to everyone. Sickness as a result of poverty was unheard of, and most other things could be healed magically if they were treated in time. The literacy rate of his subjects was virtually 100%, and being as they were all of Wizarding blood, their magical literacy—both control and understanding of basic magic—was as well. Their schooling scores consistently outstripped all the other Wizarding societies. Sometimes she'd hear it joked about that the only thing Riddle couldn't solve was death. Well, and the problem of the existence of Muggles, of course. Although, it was generally agreed that he had certainly made the problem of the existence of Muggles someone else's problem by not allowing them within the borders of his country.
If Hermione was completely honest with herself, just reading about the brilliant king who had brought his country such progress in such a short period of time, created within her an excitement that she likened to fascination but was discovering might actually be something more.
After she'd finished regaling Harry with yet another story of what King Riddle had done, he'd said, "Anyone would think you were in love with this bloke. He can move the moon and the stars, yeah?"
She'd sputtered an angry retort, of course. But she couldn't deny to herself that the prospect of getting to meet King Riddle and talk to him directly had her extremely…intrigued. Excited, even. She didn't even dare contemplate the prospect of actually marrying him.
A blush crept up her cheeks, but she quickly shook it off as she approached the gates of the castle, the directional spell abruptly winking off now that she'd arrived.
Assessing her surroundings, she noticed an officious-looking wizard manning the gate station, and she approached him with her parchment.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for the Steward of Castle Marvolo. I believe I'm supposed to report to him for lodging and accommodations."
"Her," the wizard corrected, taking the proffered parchment and giving it a cursory glance before handing it back. "I'll have you taken to her directly. Name and place of birth?"
He waved his wand at a list on the wall where a quill hovered ready to take down Hermione's information.
As she recited it for him, the man looked her over, a curious expression on his face. "We haven't had many Suitors lately. The first few months, the castle was chock full of women, and a whole wing of men as well, all of them trying to solve His Majesty's riddle. But he was too clever for them, he was. Hardly anyone in the castle at the moment, you know. Might be there's no one in the whole world as smart as King Riddle!"
The wizard, a friendly looking bloke with a friendly looking paunch, seemed proud of the fact that his king had proven too clever to be defeated by the masses.
Hermione took a moment to reflect on the man's attitude, as well as on the words he'd just said. Apparently, there wasn't much competition left, and no one had yet been successful.
"Has anyone come close to solving it?" she asked.
He shook his head, his furry, brimmed hat falling down further into his eyes as he did so. "No one knows. All the Suitors agree to an Obliviation spell if they fail. All they know is that they didn't succeed."
"Oh, but how would they know if they succeeded, if they are Obliviated?" Hermione cried.
The man rolled his eyes with impatience, the quill behind him also tapping the long list of names impatiently, as if in response. "Well, if they succeeded, His Majesty wouldn't have to Obliviate them, now would he?"
Curious, he does the Obliviation spells himself, Hermione thought. But it made sense, after all, as he couldn't risk anyone else knowing about the riddle, so that it was fair for every. . . 'Suitor,' was it?
She supposed that was accurate also, as they were vying for his hand in marriage. The thought almost made her snort in laughter as she pictured herself dressed as a gallant come to call with nosegays and large bouquets of flowers.
She suppressed the thought quickly, a new one coming to mind. "Ser. . ." she looked around, noticing the name on his deskplate, "Slughorn."
The man preened, obviously pleased to be called Ser, though if the man had ever been knighted, it was easily decades and many stone ago.
"Ser Slughorn," she began again, her voice soft as if she were trying to broach a delicate topic. "If you please, do you suppose His Majesty actually wants to be married?"
If King Riddle was simply going through the motions and Obliviating everyone who tried to solve his riddle, whether they succeeded or not, then there was no sense in her continuing on. She had no wish to submit herself to possible Obliviation if there was no hope of even winning the prize.
But Slughorn scoffed indignantly. "Of course he does! My dear girl, he wouldn't have put such a decree out to the entire Wizarding world if he didn't! He wouldn't have put up hundreds of guests in his magnificent castle for months at a time if he didn't think there was the chance his bride would be among them! Not want to get married, indeed."
He sniffed at her, and she quickly murmured some apologies.
"No, no," he continued, "our King wants to be married, but only the best will do. The most intelligent, the most magical, the most beautiful, the very kindest and most cunning of all witches—that's the only type of woman suitable to be Queen of Ophidia."
Hermione politely declined to mention that the message said nothing about beauty, kindness, or cunning, or any other traits beyond magical and intellectual ability. She couldn't very well imagine how beauty could possibly help one to solve a riddle. If the answer involved using a Hair-Smoothing Charm, then she was doomed for sure. She wasn't certain she wanted to win if that was what he was looking for.
"You are very right, Ser Slughorn," she tactfully agreed with him. "This kingdom is very beautiful and deserves the very best leadership from its King and Queen, and it wouldn't do at all to settle for less."
"Ah!" His eyes lit up at her praise of his patria. "You are a smart one, after all!" He laughed a jolly laugh from his belly, all trace of his ire gone. "Perhaps you will be the one, my girl, perhaps you will!"
"You are too kind, Ser, it would certainly be my biggest honor to serve your wonderful country and to make it mine as well, should I be so fortunate as to win the prize."
He shook his finger at her. "No, no, fortune has nothing to do with it. May you be quick of wit and quick of wand! And mayhap we will see each other again!"
She smiled and thanked him while he turned and called for a house-elf.
The little thing arrived with a pop, his tiny uniform embroidered with the seal of the House of Marvolo and the serpent that adorned the nation's flag. "If Missy will please follow Agon? I will be taking you to Steward Aidos."
"Thank you, Agon," Hermione said politely, thinking this elf was the most well-spoken elf she'd ever met. She wondered what the literacy rate among the house-elves was.
"Is this all Missy has?" The elf eyed her small beaded bag with disdain, clearly having expected to have to help her with several pieces of luggage.
When she confirmed that she indeed had everything she needed, he sniffed with just a hint of pretension, and then he took her hand and Apparated them both away.
A/N: This story is complete and has 21 chapters and an epilogue. It will be uploaded one chapter at a time, every other day until it's complete. As always, S&R: CRW (CONSTRUCTIVE REVIEWS WELCOME) means that I am open to all reviews as long as they are not abusive. That would include positive feedback, negative opinions and constructive criticism.