For most people, Hermione thought, being in the Great Hall at Hogwarts at the same time as the Queen would be a highlight of their day, at least. It would be something to write home about, something to tell one's children and grandchildren about and remember in one's dotage.
Seeing her standing on the platform with the Tournament organizers and flanked by Sirius and Sam Hanna as bodyguards would be the closest that most people would ever come to Her Majesty.
Hermione, though, had sat beside the Queen at all three Triwizard tasks, and liked to think she was beyond being awed by the royal presence.
That belief lasted until Her Majesty took a step forward, effectively silencing the room before she even spoke a word. When the Queen did speak, however, her voice came clear.
"It gives us great pleasure to present the Triwizard Cup to this tournament's champion, Harry Potter. Mr. Potter, please come forward."
Hermione clapped enthusiastically, smiling so widely her cheeks hurt, as Harry crossed the Great Hall to approach the platform. Beside her, Neville smiled just as widely but clapped in a more dignified manner.
Then there was Callen, his team and family - Hetty, Nell, Eric, Kensi, Deeks, and Michelle Hanna and her children. Nine people made almost as much noise as the rest of Hogwarts combined.
Harry ignored them all as he bowed to the Queen.
"I had the distinct pleasure of watching you compete in all of the tasks, Mr. Potter," she said. "Despite the irregularity of your entry in the Tournament, you displayed great courage, wit, and grace under fire. Please accept the Triwizard Cup as a token of our appreciation for your efforts."
She offered him the cup, and if he hesitated before taking it, Hermione couldn't blame him. Still, Harry took the cup, bowed once again to Her Majesty, then turned to face the crowd and raised it above his head.
Hermione was certain her ears would ring for days after the students erupted in cheers.
On the platform, Harry spoke to the Queen and the other organizers briefly, and Ludo Bagman passed him a pouch - presumably the prize money.
When the crowd had quieted somewhat, Dumbledore came forward. "Thank you, Your Majesty. If you'll kindly be seated, we can all tuck in."
"My apologies, Headmaster," the Queen said, "but some business remains before we can enjoy this most excellent feast."
Dumbledore looked momentarily flummoxed, but recovered quickly and, with a slight bow, retreated to his former position.
Her Majesty smiled briefly at Harry, who still stood on the platform, the Triwizard cup still in one hand, before surveying the assembled students. Hermione found herself sitting just a little bit straighter as the Queen's gaze fell on her.
Then the Queen was speaking, and Hermione gave her full attention to the speech - despite Ron Weasley's grumbling sotto voce about dinner being delayed.
Her Majesty's words, however, were the last she had expected to hear. "Will Miss Hermione Granger please join us?"
Hermione was so shocked by the request that for long moments, she couldn't move. It took Neville on her left and Ginny Weasley on her right to urge her to her feet. She made her way to the platform at the front of the room as though in a daze, only halfway noticing when Harry came forward to offer her a hand up the steps to the dais.
When Hermione had curtsied before the Queen, Her Majesty spoke again. "Some of you may not be aware that at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, a number of rogue individuals attacked their sovereign. The only one foolish enough to do so with the Killing Curse, one Peregrine Parkinson, remains in custody awaiting trial for his actions."
A low murmur ran through the students, and Hermione had to stop herself from checking the Slytherin table to see whether Pansy Parkinson even remained in school.
"That he did not succeed," the Queen continued, "is due to the efforts of Sirius Black and Hermione Granger. As Mr. Black was engaged to be my protective escort in the magical world, his actions fell under his remit and therefore may not be rewarded further. Miss Granger, however, acted of her own volition and at risk to herself when she transfigured shields around us. Peregrine Parkinson's Killing Curse impacted one of those shields, and therefore was blocked from striking us."
The murmur that ran through the students was noticeably louder this time, and Hermione risked a glance at Harry. He was smiling broadly, and oddly that made her relax just slightly. Whatever was coming couldn't be that bad.
"It had been my intention to award Miss Granger the Order of Merlin for her actions that day," the Queen continued, and Hermione's throat constricted at the thought of being awarded the Wizarding World's highest honor. "But it was explained to me that Miss Granger is born of non-magical parents, and no such witch or wizard has ever received the Order of Merlin before and, further, no one was certain that the Order of Merlin could be given to one so born."
Her Majesty's voice had taken on a more severe note with those final words. "I have tasked the Ministry with researching this matter, and perhaps at a later date I may award Miss Granger the honor she so rightly deserves. In the meantime, I cannot let her actions go unrecognized." The Queen focused specifically on Hermione as she continued, "Therefore, as part of the traditional Queen's Birthday Honours, I name you Hermione, Baroness Pemberley, with all the rights and privileges thereto appertaining."
Hermione was certain her mouth hung slackly open as she stared at the Queen. A life peerage? At fifteen? How on earth would she explain this to Mum and Dad?
Then Harry was beside her.
"Breathe, Hermione," he said quietly. "Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Good. Now, curtsy to Her Majesty…"
Curtsy? Oh, right. Hermione curtsied and murmured, "Thank you, Ma'am."
"It is I who should thank you," the Queen said. "For most engaging conversation, as well as your actions at the end of the tournament. I expect greater things from you in the future."
No pressure. It was a testament to her will, Hermione decided, that she didn't speak those words aloud. Instead, she curtsied once again and, following Sam's gesture, moved to stand beside Harry.
As she turned to face the students, many of them began to applaud - Neville Longbottom most of all, but others weren't far behind. She felt her cheeks heating, and looked away from the crowd, back toward the Queen, who spoke once again.
"There is one other person whose actions merit recognition tonight," she said. "Come forward, Harry Potter."
Harry moved away from Hermione, and she wondered idly where the Triwizard cup had got off to, as he wasn't carrying it anymore. But she focused on Harry, who took his position where she had been standing just moments before and bowed.
"Fortunately," the Queen said, "Mr. Potter's award is not complicated by an accident of birth. For your actions in ending the threat of the Dark Lord known as Voldemort, it gives me great pleasure to award you the Order of Merlin, first class."
She turned slightly to her left, and Sirius Black stepped forward with a slim, hinged case in his hands. He opened the case and from where Hermione stood, she could just see a hint of green and the glint of gold.
Her Majesty took the ribbon from the case and held it so the gold medallion gleamed in the light. "Henry James Potter," she said, "it gives me great pleasure to award you the Order of Merlin, first class."
Harry bowed again, then turned to face the students so the Queen could fasten the award around his neck. She stood back, and the applause began.
Where for Hermione the applause had been polite at best, now it was completely raucous. She had to smile at Harry's obvious embarrassment - at least until he turned to her and offered her his hand. She took it and stepped forward to stand at his side.
Finally, the applause died down enough that Dumbledore once more stepped forward. "Again - many thanks, Your Majesty. If you'll allow me …?"
Hermione frowned at the Headmaster's presumption - one did not simply order the Queen to do anything - but then realized that it was, however badly, a request rather than an order. Still somewhat unorthodox, Hermione thought, but at least forgivable.
If the rumors she'd heard from Neville were true and Her Majesty was going to be taking a more active role in the Wizarding World, a class in royal etiquette would not be amiss. Or, Hermione amended, a class in Muggle etiquette in general to supplement the Muggle Studies class.
She was jarred from her thoughts when Harry nudged her shoulder. "Are you very hungry, or would you come for a walk with me?"
"Of course I'll come for a walk with you, Harry."
Minutes later, they were outside in the cool evening air heading toward the Black Lake. Harry didn't seem inclined to break the silence, and they were halfway around the lake before Hermione could bring herself to do so.
"You're going back to the States tonight?"
"Tomorrow," Harry said. "Her Majesty wants to have brunch with Hetty, me, Callen, and Nell before we go back."
"Brunch with the Queen? Harry, that's a great honor!"
Harry shrugged. "I suppose so - but the way Hetty talks about her, it feels more like meeting an old friend. Not that I'd ever call Her Majesty old…"
"Of course not." Hermione bit back a smile.
"I had an ulterior motive when I asked you to take a walk," Harry said after a moment.
"I don't mind kissing you in front of everyone in the Great Hall," Hermione said, hoping she wasn't blushing as badly as she feared.
"Oh - uh -" Harry was blushing that badly. "That's - that's good to know. For future reference, I mean. But I - I didn't want everyone to see when I gave you this."
He held out his hand, on which rested the pouch the Queen had given him.
"Harry -" Hermione breathed. "Is that -? What is that?"
"The prize money," Harry answered simply. "I want you to have it."
"But - but that's a thousand galleons," Hermione protested. "That's a lot of money - five thousand pounds!"
Harry smiled. "It's more than that, Hermione."
She blinked. "What?"
"A lot more, actually." Harry's grin widened, and Hermione frowned.
"That makes no sense."
"Sure it does - you just have to think creatively."
"Harry," Hermione said, exasperated, "what are you talking about?"
Harry's grin couldn't possibly be any wider, she thought. "Okay, I'll walk you through it. What are galleons made of?"
"Gold."
"And how much is gold worth?"
Hermione hated to say the words, hated to admit, "I - don't know."
"At the moment, around eleven hundred pounds per ounce," Harry said.
"Per - ounce?" Hermione repeated. Then she got it. "That's brilliant! Buy galleons for a few pounds, then sell them to a precious metals dealer. Of course, you'd have to deface them a bit, Statute of Secrecy and all that, but gold's a soft metal, so that's easy …"
Then the rest of it hit her.
"Harry - you're giving me a million pounds?"
"More or less," Harry agreed, "depending on exactly how many ounces of gold are in a galleon and the price of gold on any given day."
"Harry." Hermione's mind seemed to have turned to cotton wool. "Harry -"
Harry smiled again. "Hermione."
"Harry -" Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can't accept this. It's too much!"
"It's not just for you," Harry said. "It's for your family, to help you move to America. I know your parents are well off, but an international move isn't exactly cheap."
"But -" Hermione broke off, considering. Harry was right that her parents were well off - reasonably so, at least - and he was also right that the international move wouldn't come cheaply.
Her parents had been saving for it, preparing for it, for a couple of years, and there was another year or more before they'd actually move, and they'd told her they were on track for covering all the expenses…
But even after her parents qualified as American dentists, there was no way to know how long it would take them to find a position or build their own practice. The extra money - and how strange to think of a million pounds as extra money - would offer a layer of financial security they didn't currently have. But …
"It's still a lot of money," she said.
Harry ducked his head, looking up at her with an expression of … embarrassment? "I have a lot more."
"… what?"
Harry straightened. "I have a lot more. My grandfather was a potion master, and he created a few potions that made a lot of money, including Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, Skele-gro, and the Pepper-Up Potion. And then he sold the company for quite a lot."
"I - see," Hermione said, processing what Harry had just told her.
"I'm not saying a thousand galleons is nothing," Harry said quickly. "But there was at least that much in my school trust vault when I started Hogwarts."
Hermione could only stare at him, words failing her for the first time in a very long time - so long, in fact, that Harry cleared his throat.
"Is that a problem?" he asked quietly, and Hermione shook her head.
"That you're rich as well as brave and rakishly handsome?" she asked, as seriously as she knew how.
"Well - yes," Harry said nervously.
At the abject misery in his expression, she took pity on him much sooner than she'd intended. "That's as far from a problem as it could be."
"Really?" His expression changed to one of cautious hope.
"Really," Hermione assured him, and stepped close to lose herself in his kiss.
It was a thorough kiss, full of passion and promise, and when it finally ended, Hermione was grinning broadly.
"What?" Harry asked.
"You get to explain the galleons to Mum and Dad."