The E version of this fic is available on AO3 under the username MissELY
My askbox is open on my tumblr, username MissELYLux
"Fuck."
Hermione's voice echoed out, breaking the silence.
The room was dark, illuminated by the eerie blue-white light of the lit wands behind her.
The box itself was laid open in front of her, the top thrown open. It took her a second to realize she was close enough to see into the box.
The lining was rich red velvet that looked luxurious to the touch. It didn't have the faded look that old velvet normally had, making it clear that the inside of the box hadn't seen light or touch in many, many years.
Nestled inside the box was a golden crown. It shone with a yellow-gold glimmer that forced Hermione to blink hard to clear her vision. The glow was contained by the box, only visible when she peered inside.
Her breath caught in her throat. It was beautiful and without thinking she reached a hand out to touch it. The touch of the metal on her fingertips made her consciousness snap back into her body. She realized her right hand was hovering over the open box, her fingertips resting on the crown. The metal was warm and practically hummed with magic under her touch.
Her hand was bloody, and with a start she realized that her skin had split around the mark around her wrist left by the box, and blood was flowing freely down her hand. She watched her blood drip down the golden crown in rivulets that looked like rubies, staining the velvet lining of the box near black.
Hermione regained control of her body and jerked her hand away, tripping backwards. She would have fallen if Harry hadn't been right behind her. He caught her easily, one hand going to her hip, the other grabbing her elbow. They both stumbled back, just barely staying on their feet.
"Are you okay?" Harry's voice was low and urgent as he spun her around to face him.
Hermione took stock of her body. She felt like she had when the box first grabbed her all those weeks ago. Her body felt electrified with power and she felt punch-drunk from it.
Harry was running his hands up and down her arms, eyes trying to take stock of all of her.
"I think—I think I'm fine." she held up her right hand and caught sight of the now familiar band around her wrist. It was bloody, but through the blood she saw that instead of silver outlined in white it was pure gold, the same shade of the crown.
The movement of her hand made the blood still seeping from the mark around her wrist run down her forearm. The gold line was bloody and she had stained the cream cuff of her blouse crimson.
Harry's hand was warm as it gripped hers. He ran the tip of his wand over the wounds on her fingers, murmuring a healing charm, closing the cuts.
His magic sent a bolt of electricity down her spine. Warmth pooled in her core and she felt her core clench around nothing.
She couldn't stop a whimper from the back of her throat.
Harry's head shot up. His hand tightened on hers and his eyes took on a hungry look.
Harry maneuvered them so that his body blocked her from the onlookers. He stowed his wand and brought his hand to cup her cheek, tilting her head so her eyes met his.
His tongue swept over his lower lip and her eyes were drawn to his mouth. She bit her lower lip. She knew from experience his mouth would feel as lush as it looked pressed against hers, that it would taste as sweet as it looked. The researcher in her wanted a repeat experience.
His thumb pulled her lower lip from between her teeth and ran over the marks left gently.
Hermione let out a shaky breath and shut her eyes, trying to rein in her physical response, reminding herself that she was in a room full of the most important people in the magical world.
Harry cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"
Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice to remain steady.
Harry took half a step back, removing his hand from her face, but keeping his fingers laced through hers.
She turned back towards the open box. The crown still sat in the box, but the blood that had stained the gold had been absorbed.
She swallowed hard.
"Miss Granger?" Hermione's head jerked up, the bubble that was just Harry and her popped abruptly.
Hermione peered around Harry's broad frame. It was Professor Dumbledore who had spoken. His wizened face was creased with worry, his bright blue eyes piercing in the low light.
"The box is open," Hermione was hoarse, perhaps she had screamed at some, but she really couldn't remember. She cleared her throat and tried again. "The box is open, there's a crown inside."
"A crown?" It was King Ragnok who asked the question, but his eyes weren't on her, they were on the box.
"And why is your hand covered in blood?" Malfoy said sharply.
Hermione glanced down at her hand that was laced with Harry's. Both of their hands were bloody.
"Nott, call in your team, she needs a thorough check up. Penelope, see about getting the lights in here back on" Harry instructed, not letting her hand go. Nott gave them both a speculative look, but walked to the door obediently. Penelope busied herself casting a diagnostic on the runes that normally lit the room, but was obviously distracted, casting frequent glances between Hermione and the box.
"Do you think it will let us approach?" Asked Professor Dumbledore, mild curiosity in his voice.
Hermione shrugged helplessly. "Maybe? I'm not sure. It let me touch it, and Harry was able to come relatively close to it, but I don't know how it might react to others."
Nott bustled in, his team behind him. Hermione was surrounded by people poking and prodding at hers, various diagnostic charms that she didn't recognize being cast and examined over her. Harry stuck close by her side, staying as close as possible, his large hand hovering over her lower back, casting wary glances at everyone who got too close to her. She endured the examination, only rolling her eyes once. But she couldn't help but crane her neck every so often to check on the crown.
King Ragnok, Professor Dumbledore, Quince, Penelope, and Draco had all congregated around the crown. From her angle she could see Nagnok and Professor Dumbledore casting charms over the crown, as the others looked on. No one was touching the crown, but several were getting rather close.
A few minutes later the Healers declared her in perfect health and were sworn to secrecy by Theo Nott before being herded out of the room.
Hermione tried to surreptitiously slump against Harry, her back against his sturdy chest. The morning's activities catching up with her. Being convinced that you were about to die was exhausting. She needed the comfort of his body against hers, but she also didn't want to appear weak in front of the most important people in the entirety of the wizarding United Kingdom.
Harry pressed a kiss into the crown of her head and one of his large hands held her hip steady, his fingers rubbing small circles into bare skin where her shirt had become untucked from her dress trousers.
Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and Hermione shifted her gaze from the middle distance she had been staring off into, to the Headmaster.
"It does not appear we are able to touch the crown." His voice was light and pleasant but he was eerily still and his eyes never waivered from her face.
"Have you made any determinations about its properties?" Hermione asked, reluctantly stepping towards the huddled group and out of Harry's grasp. He didn't let her go though, instead, he followed closely enough behind her that his warmth remained a constant against her back.
"I think you know what it is," Draco said mildly, a single eyebrow raised. But as he shoved his hand in his pocket, she could see that it was trembling.
Hermione swallowed hard.
"The True Crown."
Quince gave a jerky nod, a shade of awe in his ghostly visage. "That does appear to be the case."
"Doesn't—" Penelope halted, her wide eyes flicking from one person to another before settling on Hermione. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, and took a deep breath, trying again, "—doesn't the True Crown find the next High King according to your research?" Her voice going to a high squeak at the end.
Hermione gave a jerky nod. She had gotten close enough so that she was able to look down into the box again. The light being given off by the crown was dimmer, but still present. There was no trace of her blood on the gold, but there was a dark stain on the otherwise pristine velvet, which meant that she hadn't hallucinated dripping blood on the crown itself.
"Yes," King Ragnok had taken a step back from the knot of people and was looking at Hermione in a way that set her teeth on edge. It was calculating, not unfriendly, but it reminded her of when Professor Snape would look down his nose at her. It was the sort of look he would give her when he used to evaluate her NEWT level potions, she could never tell if he thought she was doing a good job, or if she had utterly failed.
It made her brain itch.
"Miss Granger, are you able to touch the crown?" King Ragnok's gaze remained fixed on her.
Hermione looked around the room carefully while hesitantly extending her hand. If this was the True Crown, she had been the one to be able to access it, the key to the box had come to her, the box had opened to her blood. If this was the True Crown…
She jerked her head slightly to try to interrupt her spiralling thoughts. Her fingertips brushed the top of the crown and the light that seemed to be emanating from it brightened noticeably. Penelope inhaled sharply. There was expectation in the wide eyes of all the spectators.
"Yes," Hermione's voice came out a hoarse whisper, so she cleared her throat to try again, "yes, I can touch it."
"Can you—Hermione, can you pick it up?" Harry's voice rumbled through his chest.
Hermione squared her shoulders and wrapped her hand around the crown. The angle was awkward, so one of the points of the crown dug into her palm, making her wince in pain. It was heavier than she would have thought, and she hit her knuckle on the edge of the box as she lifted it out.
Outside of the box, and in the light of the room, the details of the crown were more obvious. It was solid yellow-gold, shining and bright. Engraved in the gold were the outlines of plants; There were thistles, and oak leaves, but there were also various sorts of flowers that Hermione didn't recognize. There were nine points on the crown, the top of each held a stone that seemed to shift colors in the light, maybe black opal, but she would have to look closer in better light. At the base there was a circle of smaller gems that looked like rubies. It reminded her of how her blood looked on the gold.
She held it in the air, tilting it slightly so that the light reflected from a different angle of its shiny surface. It still glowed from some internal light, but again it had dimmed, becoming less blinding and more pleasant.
It was growing warm in her hand. Not the burning hot, but pleasantly warm in a way that made her want to cuddle it to her chest.
"And none of you could touch it?" Hermione asked, not looking away from the mesmerizing play of light from the crown.
"The only person here who hasn't tried yet is Harry," Penelope murmured.
Hermione shifted, offering the crown to Harry without thinking. He looked from her face to the crown and back again before reaching out for it. As his hand approached the crown hummed, inaudible, but the vibration of it made its way up her arm to the center of her chest.
He was a foot away, then an inch, then a centimeter.
And then his fingers glanced off the surface, as if an ultra thin glass wall was between him and the crown.
Professor Dumbledore made a confused noise in his throat.
"So it's just me, as of right now at least." Hermione said. She wanted to set the crown down. Despite its weight, her arm didn't ache and something about it made her want to keep it close, even put it on. But at the same time, she was having trouble forming coherent or complete thoughts. She wanted to get out of this room, she wanted to process what had just happened, she wanted a nap.
"Yes, just you." Quince floated closer, his eyes on the crown.
"I just—I don't know what this means." Hermione was proud of how steady her voice was, despite the panic that was welling up in her stomach.
King Ragnok stepped towards her and executed an elegant low bow.
"The Goblin King recognizes the True King, or Queen as the case may be."
Harry's hand tightened around Hermione's hip as she swayed on her feet.
All he wanted to do in this moment was to physically pick her up and carry her out of this room at a run.
His heartbeat was still elevated, and he could feel the oiled sweat on his back. He had been so terrified when Hermione had approached the box, and the fear hadn't gone away.
"Queen?" Hermione's voice was reedy and thin.
"The True Crown would not have come to you if you were not meant to rule, Your Majesty." Nagnok too had bowed low to Hermione.
"But—I mean—we don't have a monarchy."
Draco cleared his throat, "actually Granger—" Draco yelped as Nagnok poked him with his awl, "fine, Your Majesty, Merlin, that thing is sharp. Technically, we still have a monarchy, but the use of it simply fell by the wayside. In my research I found we never renounced the Wizard's Council or the High King. We simply gave additional powers to the Wizengamot and the Ministry that were once held by the Council and the King. Both still technically retain power, though it has gone unexercised since 1707."
"But if no one knows about the Monarchy, then how can it retain power?"
"Well Your Majesty—" Professor Dumbledore started
Hermione cut him off.
"Stop calling me that—I'm not—I just—"
Harry felt her shaking and ran a soothing hand down her back. Her shoulders dropped slightly and she took a shaky breath.
"I'm sorry Headmaster, it's just that, this is all quite a lot. Please continue."
Dumbledore dipped his head in acknowledgement, "I completely understand, this is quite a shock for all of us. As I was saying, even though the general public may not remember the High King, they will know that it is the will of Magic once they find out what has happened with the Wizengamot and with just now. There will, of course, need to be a thorough and accurate reporting done, but the will of Magic is persuasive to every Witch and Wizard. We dare not go against the will of Magic."
Hermione's lower lip was white where she bit down on it. Harry was concerned she was going to bite through it in a moment.
"Hermione," he kept his voice pitched low and soothing, soft enough to keep the others from hearing, "why don't we call it a day. Think you could use a rest?"
She nodded slowly but then stopped, her hand going to tangle in her hair and pull at it. "But I—I mean we—need to research whatever just happened. And I need to at least conduct some initial testing on the—on the crown to ensure that it's safe? And maybe we need to move it? Is this room still secure? Even with the magical backlash? Are we sure that the crown even has anything to do with being able to activate the Ledger again? Is there a way to try it?"
"Your—" Quince started, but she began to shake her head in jerky movements. Quince sighed, "fine, Hermione, you need to take a rest. I'm sure that took a lot out of you magically, and emotionally. We can handle beginning more in depth research. The room is still secure, you can see for yourself, that the wards remain in place."
"Your Majesty, it would be an honor if you would allow the Goblin Kingdom to give you access to our full records and histories. I think you and your team would find them most enlightening."
Hermione's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Are you telling me, Your Majesty, that you limited our access to your records previously? That there was information you had about—" Hermione paused to wave her hand to encompass the box and the crown,"—about all of this that you didn't disclose?" Her voice was sweet, but Harry could hear the ice beneath the surface, and from King Ragnok and Nagnok's expressions it was clear they heard it as well.
"No, Your Majesty," Nagnok said quickly, glancing at King Ragnok.
"Listen, it's rather complicated with two Your Majesties in one room, please call me Hermione."
Nagnok leveled a flat look at Hermione that made it clear that he probably wasn't going to adhere to her wishes and continued.
"The archives are segmented, and some were entrusted to us by the last High King. We were unable to even reveal their existence until the True Crown found the next High King."
Hermione's hand tugged at the roots of her hair, and Harry wished they were alone so he could take her into his arms and give her the space to decompress. He knew that he couldn't try to whisk her away. If she truly was the High Queen, then she needed to be able to be seen standing on her own. It would hurt her in the long run to look weak in front of these people, even though she may have counted some of them as friends.
So instead he settled for continuing to stroke her back and by moving in an inch closer so that she could lean against him subtly, and was gratified when she did.
"I believe we could all use some time to decompress. I will ensure that the room is secure and will discuss with King Ragnok and Mr. Malfoy access to the rest of the archive in possession of the Goblin Kingdom."
Hermione nodded slowly, reluctantly. "Keep me updated though, I want to know if you make any discoveries."
Harry paused his hand so that it rested on her lower back and turned to lead her out the door. Hermione followed his lead reluctantly, but she was practically swaying on her feet with exhaustion.
He exchanged a significant look with Draco, who gave him a sharp nod of acknowledgement. He trusted Albus, but he knew that Draco would absolutely have his back and give him a detailed and thorough report.
Hermione sighed defeatedly, turning to face the door. Harry kept his hand glued to her lower back as he ushered her out of the door.
Hermione was exhausted. She felt it deep in her bones. She wasn't sure if it was because the ritual was actually draining, or if it was the deeply shocking accusation that she was some sort of royalty.
She allowed Harry to guide her, his presence solid behind her as they walked through the halls of the Ministry.
When he pressed the button for the Auror floor in the elevator she made a curious noise in the back of her throat.
"We're stopping in my office and we're going to go to Sirius' house."
He took a step closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and allowing her to lean back against him. She practically melted into his embrace, her head resting against his shoulder.
"I want to make sure you're safe. I know you don't have strong wards at your place, and even though the ones at my place are good, the ones at Dad's are the strongest I've ever encountered. I want you tucked away somewhere no one can reach you. You've just become the most important person in wizarding Britain."
Hermione could only muster a soft noise of protest, and Harry laughed softly in response.
"I know this is scary and new. But if King Ragnok and Dumbledore think that you are the most important person, you'll be hard pressed to find anyone who disagrees with him."
She sighed, frustrated as they reached his floor. He resumed his guiding hand on her lower back and they made their way to his office, only getting a few curious looks from the aurors who were in the bullpen, filling out forms and chatting amongst themselves.
Once they got into the small floo room in the DMLE, she couldn't help but give a deep breath of relief. She was glad to be away from all the other people. If she had been disconcerted by the attention of just the people in that room knowing she was—well, whatever they thought she was, then she didn't want to know what would happen once the world knew.
Harry threw floo powder into the fire, and the next thing she knew she had arrived back at 12 Grimmauld Place.
At least this time she was too tired to be so nervous she vibrated, she thought in a detached sort of way.
Each step that Harry guided her seemed to reinforce how exhausted she was. By the time they got up the stairs and he opened the door to what must have been a bedroom, Hermione was asleep on her feet.
She had enough energy to glance around the room. It was obviously a boy's room. There were Quidditch posters, and even a scantily clad witch she saw waving invitingly from over a well-worn desk. The four-poster bed was huge though, and reminded her of the one she had at Hogwarts, only bigger. The curtains were a rich red, slightly darker than the Gryffindor red she had grown up with.
She turned to Harry and raised an eyebrow. To her amusement he blushed a little.
"This was my room when we would come to visit London. Always in secret though, those papers were vicious. I haven't...uh...redecorated. As you can tell."
Hermione huffed out a soft laugh and sat on the edge of the bed, blinking slowly.
She had to at least take off her shoes, she thought through her sleep fogged brain. She leaned down, but Harry beat her to it.
"Here," he murmured, "let me."
He helped her out of her shoes and then her robe like a child. Hermione tried to help, but was really only capable of keeping her eyes open.
"I don't want to sleep in my clothes," she said pouting slightly.
It was Harry's turn to offer a raised eyebrow. "Do you want me to undress you?"
She nodded, suppressing a wide yawn. "And I'll also need some of your clothes. That's what a good boyfriend does, isn't it? I get to steal your clothes and you get to admire me in them?"
Harry let out full laugh, as his hands went to the buttons on her shirt, his talented fingers undoing her top with ease. She maneuvered herself so he could get her shirt and skirt off before falling back on the bed in her underwear.
She lifted up a hand and made a grabby motion, her eyes shut. A soft teeshirt made its way into her hand. She forced herself to sit back up and pulled on the teeshirt, Harry helping by pulling its hem down. It was big enough so that she knew if she stood it would at least cover her butt.
She was about to lie back down, when she realized her bra was still on, so she did the fun trick of taking it off under her clothes and pulling it through the arm of the shirt. She flung it somewhere she hoped she would be able to find it in the morning and crawled back on the bed, settling under the blankets.
Though she knew full well it was still daytime, she reached out her hand again, beckoning Harry over.
His solid warm presence curled around her, tucking her into his body. He radiated safety and calm and she felt herself sinking into sleep.
"I've got you," Harry whispered into her hair. He pressed a kiss on the crown of her head. "We'll figure this out in the morning."
Comments are my love language, and I deeply appreciate everyone who has taken the time to comment/read/follow this story!