Author's Note: Yes, I took high school French, but that was almost ten years ago…. So, thank Google Translate and yell at it if my French is in error… I did do my best, running the sentences through another online translator prior to publishing…

Also, I'm really surprised no one commented on the name of the Wizarding World's premier lawyers…. Really? No one got the joke? *sniffle, sniffle*

Regarding questions raised by a Guest reviewer…. Lady's Seal means 'Be my support,' 'Molly' is a common nickname for 'Mary,' I haven't quite figured out what happened with Daphne Greengrass, and Draco is with Susan Bones. Boom!

Otherwise, thank you to loves2readalways, Beyondthesea16, Chupeechan, and Angel girl5 for being registered FF.N reviewers.

I will try my utmost to update on Mondays and Fridays, depending on my school schedule, the load of homework, and the temperament of my children and husband. Some weeks I get a hour to write, some weeks I get five hours to write. C'est la vie.

Chapter Two-

Merlin bless Luna Lovegood... Despite Hermione's reasonable scepticism, the petite blonde insisted that if she were going to participate, the brunette would treat it as a true ritual and purify herself in order to be more open to the will of the Fates...

Of course, Luna's idea of 'purification' involved the use of a very expensive gift certificate to Lavender's Little Luxuries, a spa owned by Lavender Brown... Ironically, the demi-were was still as carefree and casual about her affections as she had been in Sixth Year... Bitterly, Hermione wondered what would happen if the little bitch bit one of her numerous lovers. Luna was quick to chastise her for the 'uncharitable' thought.

Luna, Hermione, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot were all reclined on the massage tables, the other three murmuring softly while Hermione's mind raced...

For the sake of the argument, what if this divination was real? What if she was about to embark on something that would change her life forever?

Cautiously, Hermione ran through the names of every male she had ever known. Harry?

No. Too much of a brother. Not to mention that while Luna probably wouldn't have a problem sharing, I would...

Ron?

Currently hate his bleeding guts and think they should be used to make strings for violins...

Draco Malfoy?

Ew. Too blond... And I think that's why Susan is here tonight... Didn't I hear they were a couple a few months back?

Neville?

She chuckled at the thought of trying to kiss the shy, mousy brunet. While not quite like kissing a brother, kissing Neville Longbottom would just be wrong... like seducing a nun in a church wrong...

Terry Boot? The conversation around her provided intelligence that he was currently ensconced on the Continent with Blaise Zabini and the rake Carlisle Dewey of Dewey, Fhucem, and Howe... Momentarily confused by how that idea would work, the blush on her face when she figured it out was enough to raise the temperature in the room by five degrees, much to her friends' amusement.

Conversation ebbed and flowed while some soothing music was piped in from somewhere... Hermione recognized a few Muggle masterpieces in the mix, but couldn't pay enough attention to identify which masterpiece by which master.

Massages were followed by purifying baths. Her own was scented with witch hazel, aloe, yellow jasmine, lemon blossom, lily, rosemary, mint, azalea, chamomile, cornflower, and dragon's blood. It was a complex and not necessarily complimentary scent, but Luna swore this was how women within her family had chosen spouses for generations, if not centuries. Given that there were no broken bonds, divorces, or spousal homicides in Luna's family, this 'ritual' of hers was gaining Hermione's approval.

After a purifying bath, collect the waters that cleansed the maiden to fill the cauldron on Samhain. The bathing waters of the maiden should be scented with flowers and herbs complimentary to the personality of the maiden.

As the hour of Nones approaches, fill a cauldron with the reserved bathwater of the maiden by a lake. Prior to entering the cauldron, the maiden should toss a posy of flowers into the cauldron that describes her according to her friends.

Then, a wreath created by the hands of the maiden, but not her magick, should be added and carefully allowed to settle into the fire by the cauldron so it's sweet scent washes over her as she bathes in the ritual waters.

Finally, add a sachet crafted by the witch's hands, but not her magicks, that describes her ideal intended.

Then, allow the maiden to bathe again in the waters and slumber until she Dreams.

Simple enough, really, if one believed in that sort of thing... And could ignore the mistakes of medieval English...

She had already collected flowers for Luna, Susan, and Hannah. There were fourteen for Luna and Susan; however, she didn't know Hannah as well, so she only planned seven for the witch. All three witches received white heather and fern for protection, sincerity, and magic...

She selected baby's breath for innocence and purity of heart, begonia for Luna's fanciful nature, compass flower for her faith, coreopsios for her cheerfulness, cornflower for her delicacy, delphinium for her big-heart and her sense of fun, freesia for her sense of trust, lauristinus because she was cheerful in the face of adversity, Love In A Mist because it meant 'You puzzle me.', lupine for her imagination, mugwort for tranquillity and happiness, and morning glory for affection. It was a complicated and odd bouquet for the petite blonde, but Hermione thought she had pinned her friend down.

Susan was something else, even if they did marginally work together. Susan was following her aunt's path down the DMLE track and was an Assistant Departmental Head already. Black-Eyed Susan for justice, a cat-tail for peace and prosperity, a dahlia for dignity, yellow jasmine for modesty, a red daisy for beauty unknown to the possessor, mugwort again, an ox-eye daisy for her patience, chive blossoms for usefulness, violet for her loyalty, devotion and fidelity, lemon blossom for her fidelity in love, white lily for her honour, and apple blossom for better things to come.

She almost felt bad for not making more of an effort to get to know Hannah. If she had known her better, maybe she might have gotten something more than what seemed to be a generalized Hufflepuff bouquet. White heather, chive blossom, apple blossom, lemon blossom, spring crocus for youthful gladness, fern, and sweet woodruff for humility.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

Hermione looked at the sheer mass of the flowers in front of her and then at her friends. Luna had presented her with edelweiss for courage and devotion, horehound for health, cat-tail, thyme for courage and strength, anemone for forsaken, a single cherry blossom for education, yellow jasmine and a morning glory... It was an odd bouquet.

Susan gave her Black-Eyed Susan, white heather, hyssop for sacrifice and cleanliness (a neat way to reinforce her mild OCD), baby's breath, heliotrope for eternal love, a red rose for desire, kennedia for intellectual beauty, and sweet woodruff... So, Susan saw her as a smart, OCD beauty in search of true love... Again, essentially true...

Hannah just made her feel bad...

Fern, honey flower for generous affection, a white lily, a tiger lily for wealth, pride, and prosperity, lemon blossom, dahlia, blue hyacinth for constancy, mint for virtue, and a red daisy.

Upon counting the flowers and realizing that there were twenty-five in her bouquet, she quickly dragged the girls to the florist so they each had a multiple of seven. Seven was a magically powerful number and they needed all of the power that magic could spare them for this.

Hermione chose Bird of Paradise for fidelity, bitter-sweet for truth, and rhododendron because it meant 'I am dangerous.' All of them purchased the materials for their wreaths: Holly for hope, myrtle for marriage, oak for strength, bay for glory (Well, Susan bought that one. Hermione opted out. She had had enough 'glory' in her life.), magnolia for nobility and perseverance, olive for peace, and pear for affection. (Luna opted out of the myrtle, as she honestly didn't care if she married. Hannah decided that she wanted neither glory nor nobility. In her own words: 'I came from plain wizarding folk and I intend to stay plain wizarding folk.')

The girls giggled as the shopping trip continued and they stocked up on things like aloe, basil, bitter-sweet, coriander, cumin, yellow daffodils, ox-eyed daisies, dill (which allegedly represented power against evil forces), dragon's blood incense (for inner power, the clerk assured), foxglove, garlic, gilly flower (fidelity in adversity), ginger, hyssop, marjoram, mint, mugwort, oregano (substance), parsley, peppermint, pomegranate flower ('Ya want an elegant one, don't ya?' Considering the rather startling face on this clerk, all three had bought the pomegranate flower and quite a bit of it.) , ragged robin (for wit), rosemary, sage, thyme, and yarrow. As the hour of midnight grew closer, Hermione's nerves began to remind her of all the things that could go wrong.

What if there isn't anyone for you?

She asked Luna and the fragile blonde laughed.

"Oh, Hermione, there's someone for everyone. You are someone, aren't you? You didn't come from the Venus place that the book you gave me last year says all women come from, did you?"

Yet again, Hermione regretted giving Luna a copy of Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus... She had spent two weeks asking everyone if they originated from Mars or Venus and how was the weather there... Harry had actually forbidden Hermione to buy the blonde another book... Well, until that copy of the Periodic Table of Sex poster had arrived at his house...

Hermione snickered quietly.

"No, Luna, I'm not Venusian."

"Wonderful, although I do wonder if Nargles are from Venus... Do you think Daddy and Harry would like to go?"

Hannah outright laughed while Hermione assured Luna that neither her father nor Harry would enjoy a trip to Venus.

An owl circled Hermione's head before dropping an arbutus into her hand... Thee only do I love...

There was no need to ask who the sender was.

"Ladies, what flower combination can I send a certain soulless ginger that will indicate that the only way I'll be his piece on the side before, during, or after his marriage to the delightful Heiress Greengrass will be if I've died, rotted, and he performed a necromantic ritual to resurrect my brainless corpse?"

"Orange lily, a lotus, monkshood, a pasque flower, a pheasant's eye, an evening primrose, quaking grass, dried white rose, a tall sunflower, candy tuft, yellow carnation, cyclamen, dead leaves, geranium, pink larkspur, marigold, mock orange..." Susan trailed off... "Personally, I'd send the dried white rose. 'Death before loss of virtue.' Maybe accompany it with a broken geranium to symbolize his attempted infidelity?"

"Definitely the dried white rose. Hopefully nothing else will be required."

Hermione didn't have the heart to tell them that this was the seventh day a flower had arrived from Ron. Still, they went together back to the florist and sent Ron a reply consisting of the dried white rose, candy-tuft for indifference, a geranium for stupidity, and an orange lily for strong dislike. Hermione could only hope that this ritual worked and, maybe, that Astoria would catch on to Ron's deceit.

The sun started to sink in the sky as the women went back to Lavender's and she provided Port-keys to the selected ritual locations for each woman. Luna had chosen a spot off of Loch Ness, Hermione preferred a pond in the West Country near where she had grown up, Susan and Hannah went off to a lake near the Ossuary.

Attendants made her ready after she wove the wreath of apple, holly, magnolia, myrtle, oak, olive, and pear. It took a nearly forgotten dexterity that she hadn't used since her vacation to Australia to retrieve her parents in the aftermath of the war... Daisy chains were different, and yet not, from weaving wreaths...

Then, her bouquet was wrapped with a long strand of lace that she had 'collected' from a set of French knickers she didn't particularly like, but was hesitant to get rid of because of her fondness for the design of the lace and her knowledge of the cost of Maison d'Anubis fripperies. That took care of the 'posy' of flowers.

Finally, she went through the herbs and spices she had purchased to make a sachet... In a moment of sheer recklessness, she decided that since she had used that lovely bit of lace, she would use the minute scrap of fabric left to make the sachet. Of course, the irony of using a set of knickers, much less a set of knickers Ron had bought her in a ritual designed to bring her a vision of her true heart's mate...

She bubbled with laughter, disturbing her attendants. (Mentioning, exactly how much had Harry given Luna for this gift certificate that was funding the majority of this little excursion? More importantly, why didn't she get gifts like this? All she ever got from Harry was certificates to Flourish and Blotts, Whiz-Hard Books, or- if he was feeling particularly annoyed with her- Burkes' Books...)

What a feckless little shite... Aren't we lucky we escaped, even if it did hurt? she asked herself as she finished her magic-less tasks and stepped into the provided tent to strip out of her day clothes and into the provided robe so she could walk from the tent to the sunken cauldron (I.e.- hot tub).

"Miss Granger, it is half eleven."

"Thank you," she replied, gracefully moving from the tent and tossing the wreath in the fire even as she sank the posy and the sachet into the waters... She let the waters still under the moonlight and looked at the wild-eyed reflection. Boldly, she stood, stripped out of the robe and sank into the water.

"Je demande Seigneur Destin et Dame Magique pour me montrer le campagnon de mon vrai cœur... Je demande Seigneur Destin et Dame Magique pour me montrer le campagnon de mon vrai cœur..." she whispered as the midnight hour approached and her eyes slipped shut.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Buttery leather slipped beneath her fingers as she jerked into the dream.

"And who is this lovely slip of temptation Lord Destiny plops in front of me like a sacrificial cow?"

Insulted, Hermione drew herself up straight and stood- albeit reluctantly because that leather had felt positively delicious in places- to face he who would call her a cow. She stepped away from him, already in a snit. "My name is Hermione Jean Granger and I resent being called a cow! I'll have you know I am a highly powerful witch and helped take down Voldemort!"

The man laughed. "Your friend was right to offer sweet woodruff for you. Humility. You didn't just 'help.' You essentially engineered the downfall of a 'Dark Lord' whilst a schoolgirl."

She blushed before retorting, "And, if you're Lord Destiny's offering, I was wrong to add yellow daffodil, for you are not chivalrous..."

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up into storm dark eyes. "I assure you, I am chivalrous, affectionate, clean, strong, courageous, witty, elegant... All of those little spices you put in those French knickers your ex-boyfriend offered as a present to get under your skirts. Spices that represent all those little romantic traits you'd never admit to possessing because simply being a woman is too hard for you. Too bad no one offered something signifying 'vindictive, if the mood strikes' for you. Of course, his mistake was being arrogant enough to assume you would just fall on top of him in gratitude... You can afford to buy your own fancy French knickers, can't you, witchling?"

Why couldn't she focus on anything but these amazing eyes...?

"I am an independently well-to-do witch, if that is what you're inquiring. I would not have an issue with providing you an allowance, should your financial situation be less than my own."

He laughed. He threw his head back- black hair... Pretty, long black locks that she couldn't see the end of- and laughed...

At her!

She slapped him.

He looked at her, his hand- ooooh, look at those long fingers! Wouldn't they feel just lovely stroking her wrist or rubbing her feet after a presentation before the Wizengamot?- caressing his cheek consideringly. "Passionate, proud, dangerous... I took my eyes off you, witchling. I won't make that mistake again..." He bent down to put himself face to face with her. "Convince me that it's worthwhile to cross the Veil for you, witchling... Why should I go back, even if it is Lord Destiny asking it of me?"

She felt stunned. "The Veil? We're in the Veil?"

"Technically, we're on the other side of the Veil. You, my little witchling, are a very strong, very strange witch with no match on your side of the Realms. I'm your best match on this side and Lord Destiny very much wants me back on your side. I, on the other hand, am quite comfortable in my little hectare of Death's realm, therefore..." Despite the acknowledgement that she was lingering in the Realm of the Dead, his breath felt hot against her lips and she swallowed a whimper at the thought of what else would feel hot...

"Convince me, witchling."

"I hold the current record for N.E.W.T.s and can provide for a small family, provided you would be willing to wait for said family until I become a Queen's Counsellor..."

"Ambitious, smart, reasonable, family-minded... I like. This is not convincing, though."

She thought quickly as he sat in a chair she hadn't noticed before and those leather clad legs crossed, stretched out in front of him...

"I've already mentioned independently well-to-do, which- when combined with my mention of N.E.W.T.s scores would imply that I am well-educated. I'm young- only thirty, which means I've a good eighty years left in me."

"You're a virgin?"

She blushed. "Yes." Though not Muggle, it was still something of an issue if a woman was still a virgin at thirty in the Muggle world and she had experienced that misconception when her parents had set her up on blind dates. Including the one disaster with that punk-rock girl…

There was nothing wrong with her, dammit! Nothing at all! She just wanted to save her virtue for marriage!

"Come here, witchling..."

She moved forward to the end of his legs. At his imperious hand gesture, she came closer to where he sat. "Lean down, witchling," he commanded. She leaned forward, head tilting owlishly in curiosity. Curiosity was obliterated when the fingers she had admired a few moments ago reached up, tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck and yanked her down to meet those fascinating lips...

This was no Ronald Weasley, wet and incompetent. He kissed like a fine wine, smooth and dry with a distinctly unique taste that fascinated and captivated and-

Hermione Granger moaned softly when he nipped her lips.

"You'll do better not to think of him. Especially if I take Lord Destiny and Lady Magic up on their offer. I am a possessive wizard, witchling, no stripling who will allow you to attract the affections of the unworthy," he whispered against her lips before capturing them again. "Oh, you are a treat... I wonder what you would say if you knew-"

"DECIDE NOW," commanded a voice from nowhere and everywhere.

"I'll return, m'lord Destiny and m'lady Magic. Under our agreed upon conditions, of course."

Hermione was shoved away and back to wakefulness before she could ask his name and when he would come to her or where she could find him.