As a reminder, the E version of this fic is on AO3, username is MissELY.

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September 8, 2008

Hermione awoke to the sound of voices engaged in a heated debate.

Yelling, really.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up. The lack of light from the window told her it was late, though exactly how late was unclear.

The voices grew louder. She stood, her bare feet sinking into a plush grey carpet. She wiggled her toes and then paused when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

It became suddenly clear that there was a flaw in her plan to go find out what the ruckus outside was. She was only wearing one of Harry's tee-shirts that just barely covered her bottom. It looked like it was an old Quidditch jersey of his. It said "Potter" in big block letters. In a flash she realized she didn't know where her clothes were. Or even where a pair of pants of his she could borrow would be.

A sigh of frustration escaped her lips as she looked around the room, hands on her hips.

A pop startled her so badly she jumped. A house elf bowed low to Hermione as she tried to recover from her shock.

"Would Mistress Your Majesty like something to eat? Drink? Does Mistress Your Majesty want a bath?" The female elf's voice was a high squeak. She was wearing a fetching little dress that reminded Hermione of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.

Hermione shut her eyes for a second, trying to dispel the visceral negative reaction she had to being called Your Majesty. It didn't really work.

"I'm so sorry, what's your name? And please, call me Hermione" she said, leaning down so she was on eye level with the elf.

"I is sorry Mistress Herm—Hermin—Minnie, for not introducing myself, I is Winky. Master Harry told me to watch for Mistress Minnie to wake up while he was busy. I is telling him that if he was an excellent partner, he would stay with Mistress Minnie, but he not listen." Winky's tart tone made her disapproval of Harry's actions very clear.

Hermione hid a smile behind her hand as she tried to decide what to do.

"Could you get me something to wear? I'd like to go find Harry."

Winky eyed her, obviously not pleased with her request. "Winky thinks Mistress Minnie should stay in bed, you is still needing sleep. And food, you is also needing food."

"I promise, I'll have something to eat and go back to bed after I find Harry. I have the sneaking suspicion that whatever they're yelling about outside has something to do with me."

"It does," tutted Winky, abruptly popping away and then back with a set of robes in her arms. "Master Harry is trying to make sure that Mistress Minnie is protected, but bad men from the Ministry is trying to interfere."

Hermione took the robes from Winky gratefully. They were the type she could put on over her clothes and still look presentable, even if she wasn't wearing pants. "Can you tell me who's out there, Winky?"

"Right now it is Master Harry, Mister Sirius, Mister Remus, Lady Cissy, Lord Lucy, and Minister Shacklebolt. Sir Avery tried to request an audience, but the wards wouldn't even let him knock."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully as she pulled on the robes. She was slightly surprised that they were exactly her size. Winky popped away again and returned with a lovely pair of house slippers.

She made her way slowly to the door, finding she was still tired from the morning's activity.

The door swung open noiselessly, and she padded down the stairs. Winky walked ahead of her, guiding her to where the argument was happening. The voices got louder as she approached the sitting room.

"Are you kidding me right now Kings?" Hermione recognized Sirius' voice, but it sounded angrier than she had heard it before. "If we do that, it will put her at enormous risk!"

Winky clicked her fingers, and the door to the sitting room swung open dramatically in front of her.

"Her Majesty, the High Queen Hermione Jean Granger," Winky announced into the room, her high squeaky voice authoritative.

Hermione pressed her lips together in disapproval and shot Winky a look that made it clear that she was unhappy with the elf's over the top announcement.

She squared her shoulders and raised her chin, doing her best to enter the room with as regal an air as she could manage. It wasn't like she had anything to lose pretending to be confident in this situation. It would only hurt her if she didn't enter this room acting like she was really the High Queen, whatever that meant. At the very least it would give her leverage to negotiate the best position and the best outcome. Her heart was still in her throat though.

"Good evening," her eyes went to each person in the room, lingering on Sirius, who was scowling and slightly out of breath, his face red. He and Kingsley were standing in the center of the room while Remus lingered by the fireplace, his hand on Harry's shoulder, speaking to him in a low voice. Harry looked quietly furious, his entire body tense. Lord and Lady Malfoy lounged on a sofa, looking like the picture of aristocratic disinterest.

Both Lord and Lady Malfoy stood as she entered, and everyone else turned to face her. To her shock, all the men, including Lord Malfoy and the Minister of Magic himself, dropped into low bows. The curtsey that Lady Malfoy executed was straight out of an etiquette book.

Hermione swallowed hard, she felt the urge to hunch her shoulders, to become smaller, but she resisted. Bargaining position , she kept reminding herself, bargaining position .

"Please stand. I believe I was under discussion?" She kept her voice level and calm.

Harry was the first to rise and gave her a crooked smile that made her heart clench. She flashed a smile in return, but it fell off of her face as she quickly turned her attention to the other occupants of the room. She did her best to channel the way she thought royalty might behave. She made sure her back straight, her shoulders were down, and that her hands were folded neatly in front of her. She may not fully understand whatever happened that morning, but it obviously meant something to everyone else, and she was loath to give up that power, whether or not she thought it was real.

"Your Majesty," Sirius rose from his bow and gave her a playful smile, "how wonderful it was to learn that the House of Black was playing host to royalty." He went to her and kissed her hand, bowing again over it in his predictably over the top fashion. Remus sighed audibly, and Sirius' smile widened.

His teasing tone had Hermione repressing the urge to roll her eyes, but it brought a slight smile to her face.

"Sirius, you were just yelling at someone, weren't you?" Hermione prompted. She was eager both to get some information about what had happened when she was asleep, and to get the attention off of her.

Harry walked over to her and took her by the hand, leading her to an empty wingback chair. She shot him a grateful look, but could not fully relax, perching on the edge of the chair. Lord and Lady Malfoy sat back down and Harry stayed standing just to the right of her chair.

"I was yelling, wasn't I?" Sirius turned to Minister Shacklebolt, his face going stormy again.

"Your Majesty," Minister Shacklebolt ignored Sirius' glare and instead focused on Hermione, "When you...claimed the crown some noticeable changes occurred which has forced our hand."

She tilted her head and nodded for him to proceed. Her stomach clenched though and she hid her hands in the folds of her robe, lest they shake and give away her nerves.

"When you claimed the True Crown, the current Ledger, which is held in the Wizengamot chambers, disintegrated. Unfortunately, that happened as the Wizengamot was in session to debate a minor bill. So the disintegration of the Ledger was witnessed not only by a majority of the Wizengamot, but by the press as well."

Sirius threw up his hands in exasperation and Lucius gave him a quelling look, which Sirius promptly ignored. "I still don't understand why you insisted on debating something that couldn't be voted on!"

"You agreed at the time!" Minister Shacklebolt bit out, obviously frustrated, still not looking at Sirius.

Sirius scoffed, but allowed Remus to lead him over to the fireplace.

"So the press knows the Ledger disintegrated, what does that mean?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice patient. Her hand clenched and unclenched.

"Well, they demanded an explanation." Minister Shacklebolt looked slightly nervous, a far cry from the confident demands he had made the last time they were together.

"And what explanation did you give?" She kept her tone mildly curious, though she was confident she wouldn't like the answer.

Harry's hand dropped to her shoulder and gave it a subtle squeeze. She leaned back into the touch.

Minister Shacklebolt ran a hand over his bald head and looked chagrined. "I—we told them that the High Queen had been found."

"Foolish," Lady Malfoy's voice cut through the room. She remained seated, but her glare was icy. It was something that this slight woman made Minister Shacklebolt look at her with an expression that resembled genuine fear.

"You completely gave up the opportunity to build the narrative in your mindless panic. Now we will have to scramble to get ahead of the story." If Hermione had been Minister Shacklebolt, she would have withered away from the disdain in Lady Malfoy's tone.

"I had no choice!" Minister Shacklebolt was beyond exasperated, "the choice was to tell them or let the public think the government had fallen out of favor with Magic and that there was no replacement! It would have been anarchy!"

Lady Malfoy did not respond, though the sneer that played across her face made her feelings on the matter clear.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"And what exactly have the papers said?"

Lord Malfoy, who had been sitting in silence, summoned a paper from a side table with a wave of his wand and sent it to Hermione.

She unfolded it and shook the Special Evening Edition of the Daily Prophet out.

Ministry Falls, Muggleborn High Queen Found

She quickly skimmed the article. It wasn't flattering. It described her as an aging bookish spinster, whose plain looks and career focus had driven away all her romantic partners.

It wasn't wildly inaccurate either.

Surprisingly, there was no scepticism about her position as High Queen. The Prophet seemed to readily accept that she would be the next leader of Wizarding Britain. However, they didn't seem to regard her with much respect or deference. One line stuck out to her, and her eyes circled back to it half a dozen times before she put down the paper.

Sure, she's our leader, but can she actually lead?

Hermione glanced up to see everyone was again watching her. She took her time and folded the paper into a thin rectangle, before setting it on an end table next to her.

"So," she said, glancing between Minister Shacklebolt and Lady Malfoy, "if this is how the papers reacted, how did the Wizengamot react?"

Harry's fingers tightened around Hermione's shoulder. She steeled herself, it couldn't have gone well.

"Well, the other thing that happened after the old Ledger was destroyed, was that a new one appeared in its place. There is an issue though. None of the old laws transferred."

She was unable to stop her eyebrows from shooting up. "Are you telling me that at this moment there are no laws in the entirety of this country?"

"Not quite," drawled Lord Malfoy from his position on the sofa, "the treaties still remain in effect. This includes all treaties with the various magical creatures like the Goblins and the Centaurs, as well as treaties with other nations, including the Statute of Secrecy. These treaties codify some basic laws, including those against things like murder and theft. So to say that there are no laws is an exaggeration."

"Then why does Minister Shacklebolt look so nervous?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the Minister who had uncharacteristically begun to wring his hands.

"Because," Lord Malfoy sat a little straighter, his eyes shifting briefly between Minister Shacklebolt and herself, "all the laws that gave the Ministry power are gone. Technically, none of the Ministry departments exist anymore. And there is now no funding for any position."

"So you're telling me that there are only very basic laws, but there is no body to enforce them, and that hundred of witches and wizards just lost their jobs with no notice?" Hermione spoke slowly, hoping that she had interpreted the situation incorrectly. She managed to keep her tone light, but she could feel the panic welling up inside of her.

"Is there a process for reinstating some of these laws? Or at least ensuring that the employees of the Ministry can continue to draw a paycheck?" Her hands were clenched so tightly she could feel her nails cut into her palms.

"You need to pass them." Sirius said from his place by the fire, almost apologetically. Hermione's head turned sharply to look at him.

"Well technically," Lord Malfoy cut in, "the Wizengamot must first vote for them and then you must pass them—"

"If you're going to get into technicalities Lucy—" Sirius bit back, rolling his eyes at Lord Malfoy.

"And has the Ministry begun to vote on these so I can pass them as quickly as possible?" Hermione interrupted. As amusing as these antics would have been on any other day, her patience was wearing thin.

"That's another problem." Sirius ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair.

"You mean to tell me that the peers of the realm, who are charged with protecting its people, are holding up this process?" Her voice was slightly shrill by the end of her sentence.

Harry used his thumb to rub small circles into the skin of her neck. It made warmth seep into her muscles, but it wasn't enough to make her unclench.

"A faction is" Harry's voice was low and angry, but his hand on her remained gentle.

"Sir Avery is at the front. He and his sycophants demand a formal coronation to ensure you truly are the High Queen." Lady Malfoy said.

Hermione's hand went to her wrist. She remembered how Sir Avery had crushed her wrist in his fist, and how he had been so certain of his superiority. She again swallowed hard and blinked once, then twice.

"What is a formal coronation?" She asked. "Can't I just put the crown on my head?"

"Well, the Goblins found the documents that detailed how High Kings were crowned in the past. And Penelope didn't properly mark the document as top secret, so the Wizengamot got a hold of it." There was a surprising amount of contempt in Remus' voice. Though she didn't know the man well, he had been mild mannered and good humoured during all their interactions.

Hermione did sigh out loud this time.

"In under—Harry, how long has it been?"

"Ten hours." Harry offered. His thumb hadn't stopped its soothing motion on her neck, and she was grateful for that bit of comfort.

A shocked scoff escaped her lips though the cool facade she had tried to maintain.

"Word travels fast when the government spontaneously dissolves." Lady Malfoy said crisply. Her hand smoothed over her hair, which was already perfect.

"Okay then," Hermione worried her lip for a second in thought. "What do I need to do for a coronation ceremony?"

It couldn't be much. She tried to recall what she had learned in primary about Queen Elizabeth's coronation. The crown? A fancy robe? Some blokes with trumpets heralding her arrival? Surely with magic those things would be easy enough to conjure into existence.

"It involves a lot of pomp and circumstance." Minister Shacklebolt said. "The issue is that the documents provided by the Goblins mention a specific place where the coronation must be held. They call it Avalon."

Hermione let out an incredulous laugh. "Avalon? The legendary island where Excalibur was forged? Whose exact location has been lost to us for centuries? That Avalon?"

Minister Shacklebolt grimaced.

"...yes."

Hermione was silent as she processed. No one interrupted her.

Her hands had again curled into fists. She tried to focus on the pain that the impressions of her nails had left in her palms to focus her train of thought. It helped a little.

"This a stalling tactic to further undermine me and make me seem powerless. The Prophet article more than left the door open for that. If my—" Hermione paused and wet her lips, forcing herself to continue, "—my reign starts with hundreds of people out of jobs, no one to enforce laws on the streets, and chaos, then it certainly will let others to strong arm their way into power."

Lady Malfoy gave Hermione a sharp smile that was both predatory and proud. It made her nervous.

"You are correct, Your Majesty." Lady Malfoy offered Hermione a deep nod from her seated position.

Hermione wildly had the urge to tell these people to let Sir Avery do what he wanted. She didn't want power. All she wanted was to be able to live a quiet life and do her research in peace. Maybe marry Harry. The most people ever under her command had been a research team of ten back in Paris. She had always craved knowledge, and to some extent recognition. But this went well beyond that.

But she remembered again how Sir Avery had left marks on her skin, remembered the sneer on his face, like she was less than filth.

She didn't want power, but more than that, she didn't want him or his cronies to have power.

She unclenched her fist and consciously relaxed her shoulders. She would have to play this game, whatever it was, at least for now. Maybe she would be able to find a way out of this, but for now she couldn't just walk away, not if it meant Sir Avery being in charge or people going without pay.

"Do we have any idea where Avalon may be?" Hermione asked.

"It is possible that there is a lead." Sirius said. "Dumbledore sent word that a tower in Hogwarts that was previously blocked off has now been opened. It seems to have coincided with your claim on the True Crown. He can't enter the tower, but from what he can see, it's in pristine condition."

"Also Draco, along with other researchers lent to us by King Ragnok are still combing through the High King archives in the Goblin Realm." Lord Malfoy offered.

Good. Draco would bring back reliable information. She had seen, during their time together, that he was diligent, thorough, and fast. She trusted he would be able to competently achieve the desired outcome.

But she hesitated, remembering how the Goblins had held back information from her. "Can we trust these other researchers?"

Lord Malfoy shrugged. "Draco is keeping an eye on them, but King Ragnok seemed eager to help."

Hermione nodded, that would have to be enough, at least for now.

"So what do I need to do today?"

"Give an interview." Lady Malfoy immediately said.

"I'm not—I don't" Hermione stuttered.

"You are and you must." Lady Malfoy's tone brokered no argument.

"About what?" Hermione was baffled. They already had published an article about her.

"Well for one about your impressive resume." Sirius said, grinning at her. "We've lined up others to boast about your accomplishments. We even have a quote from Snivellus saying you were above average."

Hermione frowned in confusion. Snivellus?

" Professor Snape was...willing to give you such a glowing review once he heard what had happened." Remus clarified.

Hermione pressed her lips into a thin line, unsure of whether to laugh or not at Sirius' habit of giving others unfortunate nicknames.

Instead she asked, "and what is that supposed to do?"

"Though you rule with the will of Magic, you still also most have the good will of the people." Lady Malfoy sounded more regal than Hermione could ever hope to. "Right now they see you as a powerless nobody. They must see you as the Queen."

Lady Malfoy hustled Hermione upstairs to get ready for the interview.

Hermione desperately wished she could go back to bed. Ten hours of sleep had not been enough to fully recover from the magical and emotional shock of the day. She and her team had also been working nearly flat out for weeks now, so the exhaustion was bone deep.

And her mother. Hermione had totally forgotten. She hadn't told her mother about any of this. How would Joyce even deal with Hermione's new position as the High Queen? Would it even matter?

The stress that had been added on in the meeting downstairs certainly hadn't helped either.

Lady Malfoy had informed Hermione that they had invited over a reporter. Hermione had been trying to decide if she should wash her face when Lady Malfoy had pulled her out of her chair without any ceremony, insistent on ensuring that Hermione looked at least presentable.

Hermione was slightly nervous at what Lady Malfoy's definition of presentable might entail.

After they had walked into the room Hermione had woken up in, Hermione broke the silence.

"Who will I be speaking with?"

Lady Malfoy looked at her assessingly.

"Rita Skeeter. Dobby?"

The house elf popped into the room and offered Lady Malfoy a bow, and then turned to offer Hermione a bow so low his ears touched the floor. When Dobby rose, awe was clear across his face, though he said nothing.

"Can you fetch my burgundy gown from fall 2006? It will need alterations, but it should suit her coloring. And can you ask Harry if he has any heirloom jewelry he is intending on gifting her? Something in gold. If there are stones then they should be diamonds, opals or onyx. Pearls are acceptable but not preferred."

Dobby nodded, a soldier taking his marching orders from his general, and popped away.

Hermione was left with her mouth slightly open in surprise until she could find her voice again.

"Heirloom—gift?"

"I've seen how he looks at you, Your Majesty." Lady Malfoy managed dry and bored better than anyone else Hermione had ever met.

"But I—" Hermione stopped, unsure how much she should reveal. She decided against saying anything and instead let Lady Malfoy push her into a conjured chair.

After a minute of silence, Hermione could not help herself.

"Why is everyone treating it like a foregone conclusion that I will rule?"

"Because it is, Your Majesty." Lady Malfoy said distractedly, running her hands through Hermione's hair, somehow managing not to pull at knots. That was a feat Hermione herself had never mastered. "You have been selected by Magic, and whether you believe it or not, Magic will have no other ruler. There is no abdication, no retirement. You will rule until Magic deems it fit that you no longer are fit."

"I don't—" Hermione let out a frustrated huff as Lady Malfoy began pulling on her hair, "—I don't understand why there is so much faith put in the will of Magic."

"Because we are made of Magic. Our very souls are Magic. How could we not follow something that makes up our innermost essence?"

Hermione rubbed a hand across her sternum. What Lady Malfoy was saying made sense, the pull to Harry, to the crown. It had felt inevitable. She could no more deny her attraction to Harry then she could her own heartbeat at this point.

Lady Malfoy seemed to take her silence as acceptance and proceeded to wave her wand in a rather complicated pattern. Hermione's hair began to weave itself into a braid that wrapped around her head like a crown.

"This will have to do since Harry said that you left the real one at the Ministry." Lady Malfoy said, still eyeing her with something less than satisfaction.

Hermione sat stock still, not wanting to get in the way of Lady Malfoy's wand, which was still in motion.

Dobby popped back in briefly to drop off a pile of fabric and then away again.

"Put this on" Lady Malfoy shoved the dress into Hermione's hands.

Hermione stood, trying to shake out the fabric to find how to put it on. Lady Malfoy took a step back, letting Hermione struggle for what felt like too long, before raising a single brow.

"Are you unable to find how to put on a dress?"

A flush made its way up the back of Hermione's neck as she shook her head. It took her a few more seconds to find the front of the dress. As soon as she did, Lady Malfoy plucked the garment from her hands, and began making sharp jabs with her wand against the fabric. Hermione watched as the fabric of the gown lengthened and expanded.

After about a minute Lady Malfoy nodded, apparently satisfied with the changes.

"Put this on," She instructed, handing the dress back. Hermione stripped her clothes mechanically. After seven years of living in an all girls dorm, Hermione didn't have much modesty left.

She was down to her underwear when Lady Malfoy tutted audibly. Hermione turned to look at her, but Lady Malfoy was looking down at her knickers.

"Those are unacceptable." Lady Malfoy said flatly.

"Winky," she called out, "Her Majesty will need a whole new trousseau."

Winky popped into the room and curtsied low. "Yes, Lady Malfoy," the elf squeaked. Winky then whipped out a measuring tape from one of her little pockets and began holding it against Hermione's body. The tape was measuring the width of her kneecap before Hermione thought to object.

"Winky—Lady Malfoy, I don't know—"

"Nonsense, you are the most powerful woman in this country. Underwear that are obviously from your Hogwarts days are no longer acceptable. You are a full grown woman and all your attire must reflect that. Now take off your bra."

Hermione opened her mouth to object but was cut off as Winky magiced away her bra and then Lady Malfoy yanked the dress over her head in an efficient motion.

The dress was beautiful. The dark burgundy silk fabric made Hermione's tan skin look like it was glowing. There were three quarter length sleeves and a lovely sweetheart neckline bodice that was high enough so that even her conservative grandmother wouldn't have turned up her nose at it. It wrapped around her torso and flared out at her waist, the bottom just brushing the top of her feet.

She rarely paid any attention to her clothing, and most of it was secondhand and thrifted. This luxury was entirely foreign to her.

Lady Malfoy eyed her critically, but gave a stiff nod after a moment of inspection.

"Hold still," Lady Malfoy again brandished her wand in Hermione's direction, this time with it pointed towards her face. Hermione froze in place as Lady Malfoy performed more beauty charms than Hermione even knew existed.

After several minutes of silence, in which Hermione barely dared to breath, Lady Malfoy pulled away and turned Hermione to face the mirror in the room.

"There," Lady Malfoy looked satisfied with her work, and Hermione had to agree. The makeup was subtle and tasteful. Her skin tone was evened out, her cheeks had a healthy flush and her eyes sparkled under long dark lashes.

"This interview will be with Rita Skeeter." Lady Malfoy brushed an imaginary piece of lint off of Hermione's shoulder and adjusted the neckline of the dress.

"I'm familiar with her work," Hermione said, shifting uncomfortably. "She wrote a salacious piece about Viktor Krum and me when I was in Fourth Year. He had asked me to the Yule Ball, but I turned him down. She stated that he had retracted his invitation after he found out about my dark past, which apparently included multiple lovers at the same time. I hadn't ever kissed anyone when that was published." Her mouth twisted into a frown. She still had a sour taste in her mouth, all these years later.

"Well, we will be around to keep her in line. And we have some information that can reign in some of her baser impulses." Lady Malfoy said.

"How?" Hermione asked, still eyeing her reflection in the mirror.

"Unregistered animagus."

Hermione smirked. "Well that would have been useful to know back then."

Lady Malfoy nodded in approval as she herded Hermione out the door.

Hermione tucked her want into a hidden pocket in the dress and allowed herself to be shepherded out to face this interview.