September 9, 2008
Hermione woke up slowly, becoming aware of her surroundings bit by bit.
First, she heard obnoxiously loud birds, who seemed to have taken up the morning with more gusto than she could muster. Then she realized how comfortable and warm she was. She snuggled in deeper, beneath what she realized was a plush comforter. She turned her face and realized she was using Harry's bare chest as a very comfortable pillow. He smelled delicious, and she breathed deeply, revelling in how close he was. His heavy arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her in place.
There was something warm and joyful that settled in her chest. It felt like the rush she had gotten when she had done magic for the first time.
"Good morning," Harry's voice was hoarse with sleep.
Hermione nuzzled in more to his chest, resistant to starting the day when she was so comfortable and safe in his arms. He pulled her in closer and pressed a kiss against the crown of her head.
"I don't want to get up." She mumbled, dropping a peck on his chest.
"I know," he groaned and threw his free arm over his head to stretch, "me neither. But I don't know how long Dad will let us have a lie in."
Hermione sighed, a touch overdramatic and pushed herself up into a seated position.
"We have a full day. And as fond as I am of Sirius, I would rather he not seem me in this state of undress."
"I think you look perfect." Harry's eyes ran up and down her body and his smirk was a touch predatory.
She raised an eyebrow at him, her own grin playing across her face.
"That's just because the shirt you gave me to sleep in has your last name slapped across the back."
His smirk turned to a smile as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "No comment."
Hermione laughed and got out of his very comfortable bed. He stretched again, both hands reaching to the sky and highlighting a well-muscled chest that was built from hard work rather than from workouts. Her gaze was pure female appreciation, and when Harry opened his eyes to catch her watching, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, though his cheeks were pink.
A laugh spilled from Hermione's lips and a wide grin split his face.
Harry made his way to the bathroom and Hermione again had the same realization she had the last time she had woken up in Harry's room.
She had nothing to wear.
The loud pop that Winky made when she entered the room made Hermione jump. The elf curtsied low and clapped her little hands in excitement.
"Mistress Minnie, Lady Malfoy left clothes for you. She is saying that you can't wear what you tried to call clothing anymore. She is arranging a designer and seamstresses to outfit you." There was a wide smile on Winky's face as she laid out the options that Lady Malfoy had left.
They were, of course, perfect.
Hermione selected an outfit for the day, which was again leagues nicer than anything she owned, and then did her best to imitate Lady Malfoy's make-up magic. After she thought it looked as good as it was going to get she decided to leave her hair loose for the day.
Winky popped in and out as Hermione got ready. The elf brought her breakfast, and then her purse when she remembered she had left it at work after the dramatics of the day before.
Harry grabbed a piece of toast off of her plate and winked at her when she frowned at him.
"Do Sirius and Remus get the Prophet delivered? I need to see what Skeeter wrote." She said.
"Yeah, Dobby?"
The house elf popped into the bedroom and bowed in Hermione's direction.
"Is Master Harry and Mistress Minnie needing something?"
"Yes, can you get this morning's issue of the Prophet please?"
The elf nodded and popped away, returning in less than a minute with a copy of the paper.
Harry shook out the front page and Hermione looked at it, only to meet her own gaze. The photo of her took up most of the front page. She looked quite good, if she could say so herself.
The photo must have been one of the first that the photographer had taken. The chair she was in did look like a throne, and everyone captured in the frame, Harry, Albus, Lord Malfoy and Sirius were all looking at her.
She looked in control and regal, but the wispy hair that escaped her crown braid made her look approachable and human. Harry loomed behind her, looking every inch the Duke he was, and the look on his face was something she could only describe as devotion.
If people didn't know about their relationship before, this picture would certainly paint a clear picture.
Harry's mouth twisted into a self-deprecating smile. "Well, I didn't realize it would be so obvious."
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, and Hermione could only smile at him.
"I think it's quite a wonderful picture, if I say so myself." She stepped close to him and leaned against him until he put his arm around her shoulders. Going up on her toes she kissed his cheek.
She took the paper from him and read the article. It was definitely more flattering than the article from last night. It noted the prominent members of society who had rushed to support her. They had even used the positive, well neutral, statement from Professor Snape as a pull-out quote. Skeeter had still managed to get in a speculative paragraph about her romantic entanglements and even a picture from her time in Hogwarts. It actually wasn't a picture of her, it looked like it was one that Parvati or Lavender had taken of the two of them, and it had caught her in the background.
Hermione wondered how much they had been paid for that one.
Folding the paper back up, she got dressed, Winky helping her tame her hair and apply makeup.
It wasn't long before both Hermione and Harry were ready to head out the door. They met Draco in the entryway to 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Your Majesty," Draco folded over into a bow, only hesitating momentarily. Hermione understood the hesitation. She was also still in shock that she was some sort of magical royalty.
"Draco, we're going to Hogwarts first, and then I have a—a personal errand, and then we have tests to perform on the crown." Hermione stated, rather than asked.
Harry laced his fingers through hers and she looked up into his face that was creased with a slight frown.
"A personal errand?"
She nodded. "I had Winky get me my purse which had my cell phone in it this morning. The hospital called and they're transferring my mother to an assisted living facility and need me to sign some papers."
"I'll come with you, that is—" Harry paused, wincing slightly, "I mean, that is, if you don't mind the company?"
Hermione smiled and squeezed his hand, appreciative that he was still trying to make sure she could have privacy if she wanted it. She figured she wouldn't get much of that for the foreseeable future.
"Well, if you two lovebirds are done, Dumbledore is expecting us." Draco said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
Harry elbowed him, and the trio walked out the door and apparated to in front of the gates of Hogwarts.
Minerva McGonagall was waiting for them when they arrived, swinging the gate open to let them in.
Hermione couldn't help the wide grin that stretched across her face at the sight of her old Professor.
"Your Majesty," Professor McGonagall swept into a graceful curtsey for a woman of her age.
"Please, Professor McGonagall, don't—" Hermione disengaged from Harry and took a few quick steps so she could hug her old Head of House.
"Oh lass, look at you!" Professor McGonagall said, giving Hermione a quick squeeze, before holding her out so she could inspect her. "When I heard, oh my, Magic chose well. And call me Minerva, you haven't been one of my cubs for years."
Hermione blushed, clearing her throat. She was not used to effusive praise from her reserved professor.
"Thank you so much Minerva. We're here to see Prof—Albus?" said Hermione
"Of course, right this way. Mr. Malfoy, Your Grace, lovely to see you both again." Minerva gave both men a warm smile.
The grounds were much as Hermione remembered. School had just started, and there were some children enjoying the weather before winter set in. The group got some curious looks, but luckily, they were mostly ignored. Maybe few had subscriptions to the Prophet.
They were met at the entrance to the castle by a scowling Severus Snape and a beaming Albus Dumbledore.
"Your Majesty," Professor Snape, his face as if the words tasted sour on his tongue.
Hermione could only smile at him. Despite how cold Professor Snape could be, Hermione had always enjoyed his class. It had been hard at first, given his distaste for Gryffindors and his complete lack of patience for her over-eager hand waving. But after a few years he had proven to be challenging and always willing to give her more work when she asked for it.
He had even written her a letter of recommendation for her mastery program.
"Professor Snape! It's so lovely to see you again. Please call me Hermione." She offered her hand to him and to her surprise he bowed over it, though she did detect a hint of mocking in the tilt of his eyebrows as he regarded her over her hand.
"If you insist...Hermione."
Hermione pressed her lips together to stop them from twitching in amusement. It didn't escape her that he didn't give her leave to call him Severus. She wasn't sure how much emotion a queen was allowed to display. If she went by the current British Monarch, the answer would be not much at all.
"Albus," she turned slightly to greet the older wizard warmly. "It's good to see you again. Thank you so much for letting us know about the tower that opened up."
"I'm off to research in the library. Let me know if you find anything of interest." Draco said with a wave, walking towards the library.
"Hermione, it's good to see you again." Said Dumbledore with a kind smile.
"Albus, thank you again for your help yesterday. I really appreciate it." Hermione returned the smile.
"Of course, now if you'll follow me, the tower is right this way."
She trailed behind her former headmaster and former professor, letting Harry lead the conversation, instead looking around the entry hall with interest. Nothing had changed. It was just as she remembered the last time she had seen it, ten years prior. The portraits peered down at her with unabashed interest. Apparently, they were as big as gossips as ever.
The walk to the tower was surprisingly short, and they were there in no time. It was an area of the castle she hadn't been to before, off of the third-floor corridor and down a hallway she didn't think she had ever been down.
As they approached, magic pressed against her senses. It was like a build up of static electricity she felt under her skin. It reminded her a little of the jolt she had felt from the Crown, but not quite the same.
Harry, Professor Snape and Dumbledore all had stopped a few feet back. She looked behind her, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
"The boundary seems to be this arch," Albus said, gesturing to a stone peaked arch that Hermione was standing under. She leaned back to regard the stones with interest. There seemed to be runes carved on the arch, some of them familiar from the hours she had spent pouring over the cube and the pyramid.
"And none of you can cross the boundary?"
"No, we can't even get close." Albus put his palm up to the invisible boundary and pushed. His hand snapped back and he winced, as if it had shocked him.
Hermione hummed thoughtfully. There had to be a way to lower the wards. She could proceed without back up, but Harry already looked a little anxious, his arms crossed tightly over his chest in a way that made his shirt stretch over his biceps in a very distracting way. She blinked hard to try to refocus. Bringing down the wards. Okay, well if history was precedent, she would bet that it would involve her blood.
She took a step further into the tower to examine the stones just on the inside of the entryway, looking for an obvious way to allow Harry and the professors through. After a second, she spotted it. There was a stone that was slightly recessed and a much lighter color. Taking her wand out, she cast a few detection charms that let her know that her instincts were correct, that it did have the same sorts of spells that meant that it served as a method of lowering the wards.
Using her wand, she made a shallow cut with her wand on the palm of her hand and let blood pool in her cupped hand. She then carefully pressed her hand against the stone. There was a slight wave of magic that resonated through her, making her blood hum in a way that was a weak echo of how she felt after the crown had been revealed.
"I think that should do it," Hermione cleaned the blood off of her hand and the stone. Harry stepped through first and took her hand, cradling it in his. He repeated the healing spell he had used to heal her and did so again, the cut on her palm closing painlessly.
"I'd really appreciate it if you stopped needing that spell," Harry's mouth quirked in a smile that was just the littlest bit pained.
Hermione patted her recently-healed hand on his cheek gently. "I didn't plan it," her tone was wry and her smile in return was soft.
Albus and Professor Snape stepped through the arch a little more warily than Harry had.
Hermione led the group down a short hallway. Around a blind corner was a stairway. Hermione was determined to treat this tower as she would a magical artifact. She carefully cast a series of detection charms that would let her know if she was about to step into a trap, but they turned up nothing. The stairs seemed to go on forever, and by the time they reached the top of the tower Hermione thought that they must be as higher than she had ever been in the castle, even higher than the Divination classroom.
After what felt like forever there was a door at the top. Hermione managed another series of detection spells, and again found nothing suspicious, other than a very strong stasis charm.
"I think we're at the top," she said, embarrassingly out of breath and panting. She turned slightly and was gratified to see that at least Professor Snape was breathing heavily, though Albus and Harry looked like they had just done a leisurely walk in the park instead of many, many steps.
She left the stasis spell in case there was something delicate behind the door and reached for the handle. As her fingertips brushed against the handle the door swung inward, revealing a round room that was larger than she thought it could be. She took a few steps in, enough to allow everyone else in the room.
Half of the room held built-in shelves that were stuffed with scrolls, books, and loose papers. The rest of the walls had large windows that looked out onto the Quidditch pitch and Black Lake. But what really stole the show was a large round table that took up most of the center of the room.
"Well this is a little on the nose," Hermione muttered under her breath. There was a sound from behind her that sounded like a snort, she glanced behind her and saw Professor Snape schooling his face back into a serious expression.
"Am I to assume," she said, more loudly this time, "that this is the round table of lore?"
"That's very possible," Dumbledore stepped closer to the table, peering at the large table. It was a glorious thing, the legs intricately carved and the wood looked like it was freshly polished.
"We'll need Draco in here to start going through the papers," Harry said, regarding the wall of paper through narrowed eyes. "I'll get him."
He drew his wand, and in an impressive display of magic, produced a patronus silently. It was a stag, fully corporeal and very large. He gave it a summons for Draco and sent it on its way.
Within a few minutes, Draco was in the room, panting. His normally perfect hair was out of place and there was even sweat beading on his forehead.
"Merlin," Draco breathed out, stopping in the doorway to look at the room of documents. "I'll need at least four researchers to get through this in a timely fashion."
Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I know that some Professors would be eager to help, as would Madam Pince.
Malfoy didn't disguise his wince, but still nodded in agreement.
There was something about the wall of documents that was bothering her though. It felt like it was pulling her, in the now very familiar way that so many things seemed to nowadays.
She took a few steps towards the wall of documents before she felt a hand wrap around her wrist. She knew it was Harry's without looking. Sometime in the past few months, few weeks really, his touch had become so familiar she thought she would always know what his skin felt like against hers.
"Is it safe?" He kept his voice low to ensure it wouldn't travel.
"Yes, there's just a very strong stasis spell on it. But there's something that I think I need to see there. It's—" she sighed, trying to think of how to explain it, "—it's like a much tamer version of what the True Crown felt like."
Harry gave her wrist a gentle but reassuring squeeze and let it go.
She took several steps closer before she spotted it. There, on the bottom shelf was sword. There was a large stone that appeared to be a ruby on the end of the pommel/hilt, and the silver shined as if it were brand new. There were runes etched into the blade, some of which she recognized, other of which were entirely unfamiliar.
"Oh," Albus had followed Hermione and his eyes were caught on the same object. "That appears to be the Sword of Gryffindor."
Hermione reached out with a tentative hand towards the blade. "Gryffindor had a sword?"
"Yes, legend says that it was lost, and that a true Gryffindor could retrieve it in their time of need. But most thought it was just misplaced centuries ago or stolen."
Her hand was a few inches away from the hilt when the sword practically jumped into her hand. It was heavier than she though it would be and she almost dropped it.
"Is this going to be one of those things that only I can touch?" Her voice was slightly exasperated. If she had to carry around this sword for the rest of the day, she would be annoyed.
"Well, let's experiment!" Albus sounded much too excited at the prospect. He was the first to reach out to the sword, and just like the crown, it rejected his touch. Professor Snape and Draco tried in short order to the same result. Harry then reached out, she was expecting his hand to skate across the surface, just as the other men's had, but to her shock, he wrapped his long fingers sound the hilt with no problem at all.
"Huh," Hermione tilted her head and watched him hilt the weight of the sword. "Do you know how to use it?" She asked
"Some. Dad made me take lessons, but it's been years now." Harry said, eye glued to the blade in his hand.
"Well, it looks like it likes you, so I'm going to leave you to deal with that." Hermione said, nodding to herself and returning her attention to the wall of papers.
After about an hour she decided that whoever had previously organized these documents was a sadist. There seemed to be no discernible logic to where different things were. One book held what appeared to be financial reports, but the scroll on top of it was potions research. Luckily all the men were helping her, and Draco had called for Penelope to help as well.
Sorting the documents into piles took hours, and by the time Hermione looked up from reading a fairly interesting treaty on the use of loyalty spells during wartime, it was almost time for her to be at the hospital.
"Harry," she said, setting down her parchment and standing. Her back ached from the long period of inactivity so she stretched slightly, hoping to work out the kinks. Harry's hands were suddenly on her shoulders, applying just the right amount of pressure. She bit her lip to avoid a very inappropriate noise from escaping and tilted her head back to give him a grateful smile.
"It's time to go," he said, "I think I'll leave the sword here for now."
"Why don't we take the most interesting and relevant documents to the research room that I've set up?" Suggested Albus, standing as well.
Hermione nodded, and everyone packed up, Harry deciding to leave the sword in the tower. It was best to lock up the tower, who knew what precious or dangerous documents were inside. Plus the last thing anyone wanted was students wandering in.
Locking up the tower involved the same process as un-warding the tower had, which made Harry scowl at her as he healed her hand yet again. The smile she gave him in return was slightly chagrined and he brushed a kiss on the crown of her head in response.
"I have a personal errand to run and then I'll be back at the Ministry after this," said Hermione, addressing the people who had been researching in the tower. She and Harry said their goodbyes and left the castle.
On the walk down she felt tension that she hadn't realized she'd been holding leave her body and her shoulder relaxed.
"You okay?" Harry asked, reaching for her hand. She let him take it and laced their fingers together.
"Yeah. I just—I hadn't been back there since I graduated."
"Did you miss it?"
"Not really. It wasn't a very fun place for me. I didn't have a lot of friends."
"Why, you're wonderful,"
Hermione laughed at the confused sincerity in Harry's voice.
"When I first started, I was a bit of a swot. Very over-eager. Too much for a lot of people. I was bullied. There were some unkind people. In fairness, I didn't do much to endear myself to anyone, but still."
"I know, Draco, you said."
"Yeah, but the girls tended to be worse. My roommates, some older girls too."
Harry rubbed his thumb across her knuckles encouragingly. "How so?"
"There was an older girl who got a boy to pretend to like me and ask me out. I said yes. And then a few weeks later he told me in front of the whole Great Hall at dinner that it had been for a joke. That was deeply unpleasant."
"I'm so sorry, that's awful."
Hermione shrugged, the memory still stung a little, but time and perspective had dulled almost all of the pain from the memory.
"But going back there, it just made me remember how miserable I was, but also that I weirdly missed it? I learned so much there, and even though there were some unkind people, I did love it."
Harry brought their intertwined hands up to his mouth and he pressed a kiss into the back of her hand. The warmth of it spread up her arm and sent a shiver down her spine.
They reached the boundary of the anti-apparition wards of the castle and they left.
Harry brought them to the hospital, apparating in a nearby phone booth. It was a little crowded, but they got out immediately.
Hermione kept a hold of him as they walked into the hospital. She stopped to speak with the receptionist, who gave them her mother's room number and paged the doctor to meet them up there.
"So," Hermione started as they stepped into the lift, "I should warn you. My mother isn't well."
"I know love, she's here."
"No, well, yes, but I mean she's not mentally well. She really, well, after my father died, she couldn't take care of herself, couldn't live with herself. She took it out on me. It made things...unpleasant."
"I'm sorry that you had to go through that."
"It's fine. I mean, it's not fine. But it is what it is. I just wanted to warn you, that she might say some things. But she's not well. So if she says things to you, don't take it personally."
Harry pulled her closer into him, so her back was leaning against his front, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her in place.
"I'm just here to support you, don't worry about me."
Hermione turned slightly in his arm and kissed the edge of his jaw. It made a warm feeling spread from where she had kissed out through the rest of his body.
"Thank you." Her voice was soft, but Harry could hear the gratitude lacing both syllables.
The lift reached the correct floor and they stepped off, making their way to the room the receptionist had said.
Joyce, her mother, was awake and in her room. Hermione was more tense than he had remembered seeing her before, even when she was about to try to open the box. She was practically vibrating with it. He rested one hand on her lower back, standing slightly behind her, but unlike other times when he put his hands on her, she didn't relax into him, but stayed rigid.
"Hermione. You're here to take me back home." The woman who spoke from the bed was slight, and obviously undernourished. Her face had hints of Hermione's though, around the mouth and eyes. Her speech was slightly slurred, but still comprehensible.
"No mum, I'm here to sign some papers because the doctors think that you need further care in a rehab facility." Hermione's voice was conciliatory, but it didn't stop the angry glare her mother gave her.
"That's nonsense." Joyce shook her head, "I just need to go back home."
"No mum, being at home was no good for you. You didn't eat, you didn't go out, you didn't take your medicine. All you did was chain-smoke and sleep. The doctors have said that they can help you establish new routines, get you on medications that work. You still need to recover from your ministroke." Hermione spoke slowly and clearly; Harry didn't think that Joyce was listening though, her mouth had twisted to something angry and unpleasant.
Harry, with years of Auror experience, turned slightly, and out of the corner of his eye he watched as a Doctor in a white coat approached the door, which was mostly opened. The doctor, an older woman, knocked on the doorframe to announce his presence.
"Miss Granger? Mrs. Granger, it's good to see that you're awake."
Hermione pivoted, offering the doctor her hand. "Dr. Jenson, it's good to see you again, thank you for all your hard work."
"Miss Granger, thank you for coming in again, you've been here almost every day, and even though you work full time. The staff has noticed."
"You came by?" Joyce's eyes narrowed and she regarded her daughter with something that looked like suspicion to Harry.
"Yes mum, almost every day," Hermione didn't look at her mother, but was focusing on the doctor. "Dr. Jenson, you said you needed me to sign some forms?"
"Yes, they're the transfer release forms for the rehabilitation facility."
"Shouldn't I be the one signing those?" Joyce sat up straighter in bed, reaching a hand out for the clipboard in Dr. Jenson's hands
"No Mrs. Granger, you're still not considered competent because of your ministroke and your previous incapacitation."
"I wasn't incapacitated." Joyce's tone was mulish, and she jutted her chin out in a way that made Harry think of Hermione.
"Your daughter reports that prior to your illness, you hadn't left the house in months, you were unable to care for yourself, and were essentially bed bound. She also reports that you nearly caused fires on a number of occasions when you forgot about cigarettes and left them burning."
"My daughter is a liar."
Hermione's hand tangled in her hair and Harry edged slightly closer to her, hoping his nearness could provide her with some level of comfort.
"Mum, the nursing service also provided detailed records. I'm not lying, and you know it."
"I can't believe you're letting them put me in a home, your own mother." Joyce's voice was shrill and her eyes were overbright.
"Please mum, don't make this difficult. You can't care for yourself and I can't care for you. The people at the rehabilitation center will be able to help. You're ill and I—"
"Your father would disown you for this, how dare you put me out of the house I paid for."
Hermione flinched, rocking back on her heels slightly.
"You didn't pay for it! I've worked full time, more than full time for years, I—"
Joyce turned to the doctor. "I don't want to see her."
"What, mum—" Hermione looked distressed and Harry longed to whisk her out of this obviously painful situation, but he restrained himself.
"I don't want her in my room. I don't want her here."
Hermione sighted deeply, her shoulders drooping. "Fine. Dr. Jenson, I'm sorry about this. I'll sign the necessary paperwork in the hallway."
Hermione turned away from her mother and skirted around Harry, not making eye contact with him. The doctor followed her out of the room.
Harry lingered for a second. Joyce looked very unwell, and as her daughter stepped out of the room and out of sight, the harsh, scowling expression on her face seemed to crumble. It only lasted a second though, as she seemed to realize that Harry hadn't left the room.
"You can go too," she said, pointing a bony finger towards the door, "just let me die in peace."
"Hermione is precious, and she deserves more than your cruelty." He spoke softly, but Joyce flinched as if he had hit her.
"You don't know what my daughter deserves," she ground out through gritted teeth. She didn't look angry though, she looked like she was in pain.
Harry was pretty sure he had already overstepped, so decided to do it just a little more. "Your daughter is amazing, Hermione is everything. She's brilliant, kind, and just. You've hurt her deeply."
Joyce's eyes shut, and she turned her head away from Harry. "I don't know who you are, but don't think I don't know my daughter. I know her better than anyone. She's already ruined her life, and is now just prolonging my pain and hers. Leave me alone."
He pressed his lips into a thin line. Shaking his head, he stepped out into the hallway as Hermione handed the forms back to the doctor.
"Thank you for all your help, Dr. Jenson." Hermione shook hands with the doctor and turned back to Harry.
"I'm sorry you had to see all that," she said, a blush climbing up her chest.
Harry took the couple of steps necessary until he could reach her and pull her into a warm hug.
"Stop apologizing. It's not your fault. Your mum's very ill. You've done everything you can, none of this is on you."
He felt her shaking against him, and he tightened his grasp around her. They stood like that for a minute before he felt her pulling back. He let her go and brought his hand up to tilt her chin up to look at her face. She was still slightly red, but the soft smile she gave him was much less brittle and she seemed calmer.
"Okay," Hermione took a full but uneven breath in, "to the Ministry?"
"Do you need time? We could go back to Grimmauld Place?" His brow creased in a frown, using his hand on her chin to tilt her face this way and that, examining her for signs of distress.
"No, I need to finish this day and then get home." Her voice was determined, and he nodded, letting her face go and taking a step back.
"All right," he offered her his arm with a bow, "then shall we?"
Hermione nodded, taking his arm with a grateful smile, and they made their way out of the hospital.
As always, the E version of this fic can be found on AO3 (missely), my ask box on my tumblr (misselylux) is always open, and comments are my love language.