The Lost Horcrux

by Th3Alchemist

Harry Potter is thought dead, killed at the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione suffers the horrors of a forced marriage, to a Ron seduced by the lure of power. Trapped in this dystopian nightmare, Hermione's last fading hope is to somehow ask Harry to rescue her on his Deathday. Finally, after 5 years away, a hideously scarred - but beautifully alive - Harry returns to grant her wish.

40. The Chemical Wedding

Disclaimers: Dark themes, police state ideas, mention of spousal abuse (including rape) on and off-screen, death of minor characters, graphic imagery and violence, frank sex discussion, copious bad language, bashing the fucking Weasley's and Dumbledore, liberties taken with mythical history and the HP real-life timeline. Serious symbolic literary and spiritual alchemy coming up, if you don't understand it all, don't worry. Not all of us are able to.

---

"We've set a date!" Hermione announced to the Breakfast Parlour as she breezed into it. "And I'm a little bit terrified about it!"

Almost all the witches of the Palace were taking breakfast together that morning, even Sue, who seemed to be much more at ease with everyone since Hermione's birthday party. Hermione was glad of the large numbers, for she felt she needed as many sources of support as possible to offset her unexpected anxiety.

"Pre-wedding nerves are natural," Enola chimed. "So when's the big day?"

Hermione whimpered. "September the twenty-third."

"The Autumnal Equinox," Arianwen nodded as she poured Hermione a large cup of Earl Grey. "Harry always did have a good head for symbolism and natural power summoning."

"The twenty-third?" Enola frowned. "But, Min, that means your big day is … that it's … that's Wednesday!"

"I know!" Hermione mumbled. "Wednesday. Three days away. I'm getting married to Harry in three days … and the ceremony sounds so complex I have no idea how I'm supposed to get ready in time. I'm scared I'm going to get this all wrong!"

"The first thing you need to do is relax," Sue cooed to her, coming over and offering a biscuit. "You've got all us girls with you to help with it, whatever it is. So stop worrying … you aren't alone in this."

Hermione smiled weakly in her thanks and nibbled on the biscuit.

"Well said," Cassie cried, inclining her coffee cup to Sue. "It's a good point though … why is it just us girls? Where are all the men-folk today?"

"They are out in the grounds, working on Harry's latest building project," Alice Longbottom replied. She was feeding baby Alison, who gurgled as her contribution to the conversation. "Apparently, it's very much an all-hands-on-deck kind of construction."

"What's he building now?" asked Myfanwy.

"And why is he doing it three days before his wedding?" Enola frowned.

"It's because it is for the wedding," Alice explained. "Neville was discussing it with Frank this morning, when they were looking over the design plans. He and Harry were up late into the night assessing the Ritual Chamber and Harry's Alchemy Cell, eventually deciding that neither one was powerful enough for this sort of wedding ceremony. So Harry spent the rest of the night perfecting plans he had been working on for a new one, then began construction as soon as there was light to work by. I have a feeling he used his time-turner extensively to get it right, because he looked like he hadn't slept in a week, Nev told me."

"This is exactly what I mean!" Hermione squeaked, pulling on her hair in her anxiety. "All this effort, all these arcane enchantments … I'm not anything like ready enough to be a part of all this."

"Of course you are," Arianwen told her, sagely. "Harry wouldn't be doing this if he didn't think you were. So you need to get rid of that doubt at the very least."

Hermione was stilled a little by that. "Do you know much about this, Mrs Hart? About alchemical rituals?"

"I know that they are dripping in symbolism and ceremony," Arianwen replied. "My late husband was part of Freemasonry and alchemy is a central component of some of their rituals. So my knowledge about it comes from there."

"Anything you can tell me will help," Hermione begged, sitting on a footstool near to Enola's mother. "Harry has told me I need to prepare myself … but I have no idea how."

"First of all … what role are you?" Arianwen quirked. "Red or white?"

"Harry calls me his White Queen," Hermione blushed in reply. "Does that help?"

Arianwen nodded and closed her eyes. "That makes sense … I should have known, really. You are clever and love books … so clearly marked as Mind … which is the part you will bring to the union. But we need to look at your other markers. Your hair and eye colour are brown, recalling the Earth element, as does your maiden name … a Granger is a type of farmer, a tiller of earth. The question is, which other natural element do you represent?"

"There's more than one in her, Mum?" Enola asked, curling her legs under her as she listened in.

"All of us are made up of two elemental forces, though one is always more dominant than the other," Arianwen explained. "In arcane wedding rites the idea is to join all four elements to achieve esoteric and spiritual perfection, with each partner bringing two of the elemental blessings with them."

"So what do you think my other one will be, if we are decided that I'm definitely an Earth elemental?" Hermione queried.

Arianwen looked at her critically a moment. "I'd lean towards Water. Mind and thoughts are often thought of in terms of things that flow, which clearly reflects the movement of water. You are also known to be cool through your logical traits, which is another indicator of water. But we could just look at Harry, see what he is Master of."

"I've been told he is definitely Fire," Hermione began. "And I think that is obvious not just in how fiery he can be, but in his Sun markers. Narcissa Malfoy told me all about them. And if you think my lower element might be Water, then that would make Harry's Air, wouldn't it? But I'm not sure if he can be called a Master of Air, can he?"

"Of course he can," Luna chirped from near the breakfast table. She sounded so confident that Hermione was a little cross, as though she were missing something blatantly obvious.

"How so, Lu?"

"Well, it's his mastery of flight, isn't it?" Luna smiled serenely. "He was the best Quidditch player I ever saw fly, and one of the best Seekers ever seen at Hogwarts."

"That's right!" Hermione cried, feeling silly that she hadn't thought of that. "And an Adept on an Alchemical Quest is often referred to as a Seeker, which was Harry's position on the team! So he is a Master of Air … but I'm not a Master of Earth or Water, am I? That's a problem."

"Oh, I think you are," Enola quirked, cryptically. "I think any girl ruled by the Earth element can be classed as a Mistress of Earth."

"How so?"

"Well … what does Earth allow us to do?" Enola smirked, somewhat smugly. "If we use it in just the right way?"

Hermione contorted her features as she thought. "It allows us to get dirty … it gives us something to walk on?"

"Try thinking a little more abstract."

"Er … we can get food from it?" Hermione tried. "We can plant seeds deep down and then … and then … we can grow things … we can fertilise seeds and they can grow … that's what we can do!"

Enola smiled warmly as the shock of understanding flooded Hermione's mind. She clutched at her chest with the revelation.

"You're talking about making babies again," little Celesca piped up from the other side of the room, swinging back and forth on her chair as she pulled the crusts off her toast to eat them first. "I looked up what fertilise means from a book in the library, after you said about it before, Miss Hermione. It has to do with making babies, but I really didn't understand it at all. It said you need a seed from a man, but all the men I ask around here never seem to have any seeds on them."

"You wont have need of that kind of seed for a long time," Luna told her brightly.

"But I want one … to see if I can grow a baby," Celesca explained in wide-eyed innocence. "I have a plant pot and a watering can ready in the botanical garden and everything."

Luna smiled fondly at her daughter a moment before turning back to the adults. "So, how does Hermione call on the elements of Earth and Water to bless her for the wedding?"

"Go back to the Temple of the Moon," Enola stepped in. "There are Elemental offering altars there. Light a candle in each and make an offering to the natural world … I bet that's what Harry will do, if he hasn't already."

"And what should I offer?" Hermione asked.

"For Earth you could pick anything that grows … but the petals of some pretty flowers might be nice," Enola pondered. "As for Water, I'd go for a bodily fluid … saliva, tears, or - if you can stand a little pain - blood … something personal to you."

Hermione swallowed hard. "That sounds extreme."

"Hey, it's your wedding, not mine!" Enola grinned. "I was happy enough with walking down an aisle and saying 'I do' to Neville … it was you and Harry who just had to go one better!"

---

Hermione spent that afternoon in the garden with Celesca, who had readily volunteered to help with the flower-picking, seeing it as her chance to actually be a flower girl after all. After selecting a number of the most colourful red roses and white lilies, they sat and carefully picked the petals from the flowers while enjoying ice-cold, freshly squeezed lemonade in the warm mid-September sun.

Then Hermione went to make her offerings alone. She was deeply curious to have a better look at the Temple of the Moon by herself, fascinated as she was by the strange energy that radiated from the standing stones in a hum of low-level vibration. This, she reasoned, was down to the quartz content of the crystals that made up the stone, having read a little bit about crystal magic after Harry showed her the ones that captured his bad dreams.

She grimaced sadly as she thought about that, her resolution yet more steeled to make sure Harry didn't have bad dreams ever again.

So, renewed to her purpose, Hermione entered the cool energy of the stone circle and tried to find her offering altars. It wasn't difficult … for Enola was proven to be totally correct. Right at the heart of the circle, in the same space that Hermione had been inducted as an Acolyte in, she found what she was looking for … and Harry seemed to be there, lighting her way.

For his own candles were already lit for her.

Hermione stepped close and took a look at the altars, for the candles burning there were very specific and casting a mystical sort of glow around the stone crucible. Harry had placed a crimson candle on the altar of Fire, but an azure blue one on the corresponding Air altar, and the flames themselves flickered in these colours. Hermione felt her eyes reflecting the shift from red to blue and back again, with the flick of the soft gusts of air that permeated the Temple. And with each wave of light that passed over her she felt her insides stir, as though they were infusing her with some sort of unseen power. It made her heady and dreamy as she drank in their aromatic scents.

Then she set to her own work. She started with her candles, which she knew now needed a little alteration. Both of them were plain white wax, but that just wouldn't do at all. They had to correspond to the Elemental colours and Hermione wracked her imperious brain as she tried to dredge up that knowledge. But she was left frustrated as she couldn't remember them, or had simply forgotten, if she'd ever known at all.

"Right, there has to be an answer," Hermione huffed, pulling her logical brain back to life. "Okay. Quidditch - a game designed as a proxy for the alchemical process it would seem. I wonder if this means Hogwarts Quidditch in particular? Four houses, four teams, four elements … it makes arcane sense. So … what colours do we have?

"Well there's red … for fire … and Gryffindor, obviously. And blue … and that was the colour of Ravenclaw. Raven … bird … Air … this is getting a little spooky. So, what's left? Slytherin wore green, and Hufflepuff yellow. But which is which? Snakes are serpents, they slither … which is a flowing movement like water … and they also had silver in their livery, which could be seen as liquid mercury … which is watery. But what does that say about all my mercury markers? Should I have been a Slytherin? Urgh, let's not think about that.

"Actually, at my Sorting I almost became a Ravenclaw, which would have been an Air marker for me … and didn't Harry once say that the Sorting Hat considered him for Slytherin? That means we would have represented three of the four Hogwarts houses, too … and if I am a Mistress of Earth maybe I could have been a Hufflepuff instead. I wonder why I wasn't."

Because the universe wanted to pair you with Harry, silly, Hermione's heart whispered to her. It knew you ought to be together!

"Thank you, universe!" Hermione grinned to herself. "I haven't had much cause to thank you for anything over the last few years, but at least you got that bit right!"

Hermione continued on with her offerings. She placed the petals she and Celesca had collected into a shallow stone dish, recessed into the Earth altar, and took out one of her candles. A quick Transfiguring spell later, a flash of flame from her wand and her face was soon suffused with a deep, warming, daffodil-yellow glow. She felt the heat of a blessing settle on her, as though someone had placed an invisible crown on her head, and she just knew she was doing this right.

She moved slowly over to the Water altar and carefully placed the green candle into the receptacle that was waiting for it. She had chosen emerald green for the hue, to match Harry's eye, and now had to select her own personal aspect for the offering. She didn't feel like crying, so tears were out, and spitting on the altar didn't strike her as the most respectful way to go. Blood letting seemed the obvious choice, however morbid it sounded, but Hermione didn't feel that this was quite right, either.

"What else flows from my body?" Hermione mused, twirling her curly hair between her thumb and forefinger … and the answer came to her. "Of course … my hair!"

Innately knowing that this was the right answer, as she held her bushy locks in her hand, and raised her wand to cut a few strands off … then she hesitated, her heart increasing in it's tempo. She felt heat rise to her cheeks as she weighed up what she was about to do, wondering if it was perhaps a bit much. Then she set her jaw firmly with a jarring thought.

"I had to give my last husband a lock of my hair, and I had no say in that," Hermione frowned. "But this is my wedding … my choice … and I decide what sort of offering I want to make to my Harry."

Decision made … and with that, after a swift look around to make sure she was quite alone, Hermione reached down and unbuttoned her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. She shimmied out of her knickers after that and moved her wand downwards … to the curly, dark hair that lived at the apex of her thighs, which she began to carefully trim away. Once she had collected a handful she dropped it into the offering dish and lit the candle.

A wave of green light … another tickle of Elemental blessing magic … and Hermione knew she was ready now. She was an alchemical bride-to-be … she knew it in every fibre of her, as though remembering a lost piece of knowledge, and the understanding made her unspeakably joyous.

Grinning wider than she thought she ever had before, Hermione redressed herself, gave a respectful little bow to the altars - which she noticed corresponded to the four cardinal points, too - and backed slowly away from the crucible to make her way back to the house.

---

Harry didn't let Hermione see what he had been building on the grounds until after breakfast on September the twenty-second, the very morning before their wedding day. Neither of them could say the phrase without going a little distracted, so they did their best to refrain from using that exact configuration of words, in order to keep their heads fixed on. But when Hermione finally saw what it was that Harry had been constructing, it was enough to rob her of the ability to say any words for fully three minutes anyway.

"Harry … it's a pyramid!" Hermione breathed in awe as Harry unveiled it to her, after she regained the power of speech. "An actual pyramid!"

"Yep," Harry grinned. "Impressive, isn't it?"

Hermione looked up in astonishment at the huge structure, gleaming in dazzling white marble against the midday sun. Impressive didn't quite seem to cover the effect of seeing it.

"How have you managed to build this?" Hermione whispered. "You've only had a couple of days."

"I'm an alchemist, I can manipulate time," Harry smirked smugly. "I had the inverted pyramid already built, which helped a lot. Oh, did I mention that there's an inverted pyramid, too? Well, there is one … right below the one you can see here, and of approximately the same dimensions. You'll see inside it later, when we come back for the pre-wedding feast. Speaking of which, did you send out the invitations?"

"I did," Hermione nodded, trying to get her mind and her breath back. "I used gold lettering on an azure field, just like in that story about Christian Rosencreutz you told me to read. Was that okay?"

"Perfect!" Harry beamed, leaning over to give Hermione an affectionate peck on the cheek, which she felt tingle all the way down to her toes.

She had noticed that recently … how she was becoming acutely more sensitive to Harry as their wedding drew closer … how his lightest touch now could send her wild, his very scent could speed her heart, a glancing look enough to thrill her with tickly joy. It was almost dizzying, in the most incredible kind of way.

"And how do you feel?" Harry asked, softly. "It's okay to be nervous, and you can ask me any questions you like, if you're unsure."

"I'm a touch anxious, Harry … because this is all so new … but I'm not getting cold feet!" Hermione huffed a little crossly.

"I meant unsure about the ceremony … not about me!" Harry laughed. "I mean, I would hope you weren't having second thoughts about being my wife at this late hour!"

Hermione curled her arm into Harry's. "I am having second thoughts," she teased. "And third thoughts, and fourth thoughts … in fact, all my thoughts are about this, and I cant wait until they all come true!"

"Well, it wont be long now," Harry smiled back. "I'd advise getting spelled to sleep tonight if you are too excited to drift off naturally … the ceremony is extensive and all-encompassing. You'll need all your energy for it."

Hermione quirked her eyebrow. "How long does the ceremony last?"

"Seven hours," Harry replied, flatly.

"What!" Hermione replied, her jaw dropping open. "Seven hours! Wow. Is it really that intense?"

"More than I can describe," Harry nodded. "Even I cant be fully prepared for it … after all, I've never done this before, either. But it wont be like any wedding you've ever attended … or been part of."

Hermione frowned at that. "After today, Harry, this is last time we mention that, okay? I want to consign it to history, and not remember it for any other purpose than to fuel my revenge against the prick who forced me into it. Can we agree on that?"

"It works for me," Harry smirked. "But come on … I need to finish up the final touches here, make sure everything is ready. Then we need to bathe and dress for the feast tonight."

"What should I wear?" Hermione asked. "You're making this banquet sound like part of the ceremony, so do I need to wear anything specific?"

"It is … and you do," Harry confirmed. "Right now, I have Narcissa going over all of the details that Neville and Enola will need to know for their roles in our wedding. They are intrinsically part of it, far more than any other sort of Best Man and Maid of Honour could ever be. Enola will come to visit you later with a special garment you need to wear. She can explain it all to you."

"That's comforting," Hermione grinned. "At least Ennie might be able to tell me what to do tomorrow … because I haven't got the faintest idea!"

"That's actually sort of the point," Harry explained. "Us Alchemy Adepts are supposed to be a bit uninformed as we work towards achieving Enlightenment, relying on the knowledge of others who know far more about what it going on than we do, until we attain that level of insight."

"I don't think I like the idea of deferring to others for guidance," Hermione frowned. "It's like admitting weakness."

"Asking for help displays humility, and that's a noble trait to have," Harry disagreed. Hermione nodded as she accepted that wisdom. "In any case, Enola was the perfect choice for you to make … for not only is she bright and clever and your new best friend, but she's also been a bride before … a willing bride, I mean. So she'll know about everything that you might be going through, and will be there to help you deal with whatever your nerves might throw up for you."

Hermione felt warmed by that promise. "And what about Neville? Is he only responsible for your Stag Party?"

Harry chuckled at that. "No, Nev has a key role, too, and … just like Ennie with you … he will, essentially, give me away, when the time is right."

The idea of such things stirred a melancholia in Hermione that plucked at her heart. "I wish that could have been done properly, Harry … my being given away, I mean. I … I wish my parents could be here for this, to see me marry the man I love."

Harry tugged Hermione close to him. "I'm sure they'll see, wherever they are. I just hope they think I'm good enough for their little girl!"

"Of course they will!" Hermione responded playfully. "I chose you, didn't I? And you should know by now that I'm pretty much always right!"

"Pretty much always," Harry muttered back. "Thank you for agreeing to this, Hermione … for all of it. I know this is all elaborate and confusing, but it's the way it has to be for us. And you'll agree with me when it's all finished, I know you will."

"I know … I'll be Hermione Potter, wont I?" Hermione smiled warmly. "And, however that happens, the journey will be totally worth it … even if it does last seven hours!"

---

The pre-wedding feast began that night at seven o'clock, and was scheduled to last until twelve o'clock, where it would end not a minute either before or after that hour. The guests were borne along one of four winding paths leading from the confluence of the lake in a Southerly direction. Each path was lit by nine, seven-foot high torches, which crackled away on either side and made the balmy night flicker with inconsistent light.

The first path was the shortest but most dangerous, as the ground was pitted and rocky and contained hidden, fast-sinking quicksand; the second was the most ambling and lengthy, but dawdling might mean missing the ceremony entirely; the third was a royal road full of pleasant sights and aromas, and the fourth path was suitable only for those who were incorruptible.

Harry and Hermione were the only two members of the assembled persons, along with their escorts, who were permitted to take the fourth road.

Trying to process what that meant, Hermione allowed Enola to lead her to the base of the great pyramid, that Harry had built for the sole purpose of marrying her. The very understanding of that was enough to send Hermione's mind into a tailspin, and she was overwhelmed a moment with violent spikes of love for Harry and this temple that he had constructed for her, which he had called the House of Venus.

What was a girl supposed to say to a gesture like that?

Enola led them downwards, from the pyramid above and into the inverted mirror of it below. Hermione noticed a very spacious hall to her right, through a great vaulted door with a gilded frame full of shimmering inscriptions, where all the guests were assembled on three long tables and enjoying quite stately, haunting music played by a number of the house-elves, who were dressed in white suits trimmed with gold.

But Enola didn't escort them in via that door. Instead, she ushered Hermione into a small antechamber lit by soft light a little further along the corridor, and knocked three times on a heavy oak door. Rhian opened the door and bowed them through. Hermione happened to look up as she entered the banqueting hall, and noticed Harry entering at precisely the same time from a door on the other side of the room, with Neville escorting him along in much the same way as Enola was doing to Hermione.

They met in the middle, and Hermione quirked a confused face at Harry. He just grinned back at her but didn't speak, turning instead, with deliberately slow movements, to look at a raised structure down at the far end of the hall, which he bowed to. Hermione, sensing that she ought to copy Harry's example did just that … and was stunned by what she saw as she did.

For there, seated on two thrones either side of a third, slightly more elevated one, were the spirit forms of Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry!" Hermione whispered excitedly. "Can you see that? Oh, sorry … am I allowed to speak?"

Harry grinned at her. "Of course you are. And yes, I can see them. I asked them to be here."

"But … they're dead!"

"Well spotted!" Harry ribbed her gently. "And that is precisely why they have to be here."

"I don't think I follow," Hermione frowned. She really wished she had learned more about this.

"My Opus, as anyone's Opus would be, was divided into three distinct stages," Harry began. "The Nigredo, or Black Stage … the Albedo, White Stage … leading to this, my Rubedo, or Red Stage. The passing of each stage of my journey was marked by the death of the significantly appropriate kings who ruled that stage … Sirius was my obvious Black King, through his surname, and Dumbledore my White King, as Albus means white."

"But isn't Dumbledore's soul in that abomination raised by Riddle?" Hermione hissed.

"No," Harry shook his head. "That thing has a smattering of earthly memories and Dumbledore's physical magic capabilities. It has no soul to speak of."

Hermione nodded as she tried to understand that, which was a hard enough task as it was. Then something else occurred to her. "So, if you've had a black death and a white death, where is your red one?"

"It's about to happen," Harry smiled. "In a moment, Narcissa - who will preside over our wedding - will enter to begin the ceremony formally. She will both conduct and be part of the Red Death."

"Narcissa is going to kill herself?" Hermione asked, her voice a mixture of surprise and thinly-veiled hope.

Harry rolled his eye at her. "No, Hermione this death will be symbolic … and as much yours as hers."

Hermione gulped in anxious shock. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Kill your outmoded way of being," Harry explained. "We will be joined together on a basic level as the wedding ceremony begins, finally cleansing you of any lingering stain of Weasley in your system … a Red Death if there ever was one. Then you will be formally presented to succeed Narcissa as Head Acolyte of the Order of Merlin … killing her role and being born in it anew, yourself.

"For you see, this Red Death isn't just about me … it's actually about us. We will be different from this stage on … closer and more bonded than either of us can yet imagine … and we will change the world with what our union will bring. From endings all beginnings spring, my love."

"I'm so nervous, Harry … it seems like such responsibility," Hermione mumbled. "I don't know if I'm up to it."

"You are … I know you are," Harry smiled, encouragingly. "All you have to do is be yourself, for all the wondrous things that means. Without knowing, without always trying, you have spent your entire life steering me right and true, directing me to be a better man, without ever having been taught how. That's just who you are … my guiding light … and my guardian angel."

Hermione felt tears rise quickly behind her eyes, and she dried them on Harry's shawl as she pulled him close and kissed him deeper. Propriety be damned … he wasn't going to say something like that and not get the biggest kiss Hermione could manage.

They were broken apart by the sound of golden trumpets, which heralded the arrival of Narcissa Malfoy to the banqueting hall. She was preceded by a thousand lighted tapers floating in front of her and was dressed in a red velvet gown adorned with a white and purple sash. All of the guests fell silent and stood when instructed to, as Narcissa beckoned Harry and Hermione to drop to their knees in front of her.

"Behold! The Betrothed!" Narcissa cried in a regal tone, her voice magically modified so that it carried all around the space in a kind of orbit. "Harry James … and Hermione Jane … let your eternal union commence."

Hermione's insides started doing cartwheels and somersaults, to compete with the insane flutterings drifting over her skin. She couldn't even describe what was going on in her frenzied mind. After the heady magical power of the Induction Ritual, she had been left a little giddy. She wasn't sure she'd be able to handle what was about to happen this time.

But there was no way on Earth that she was going to miss her own wedding.

It was happening ... it was really happening. It wasn't a dream, or a fantasy. She wasn't curled up in her bed at Hogwarts this time, clutching a pillow between her legs and clenching a fist so hard into the corner that it left creases there. She wasn't going to wake up from this and find she'd fabricated the whole thing. No, this time, the dream was totally real.

She was about to marry Harry Potter!

Hermione had to hold onto the tiles of the floor to stop herself from collapsing at the mere thought. In fact, she decided to sit fully down for support. There was simply no way she could keep her balance, as even her knees had forgotten how to function, in the face of the electric pulses shooting through her entire body. She tried to breathe, but this was a folly.

Hermione was too excited to even do life properly, it would seem.

Narcissa smiled at her warmly, as she stepped forwards and placed a laurel wreath gently onto her head, before doing the same to Harry.

"Friends!" Narcissa called to the hall. "In your duty as Witnesses of this union, please take the golden goblets placed before you at your tables and bring them with you, as you file before the Betrothed to pay homage.

"Once they are seated, a fountain will be placed before them, and next to that an altar bearing a black leather book and a quill made from the feather of a crow. Fill your goblets with the honey wine from the fountain, and sign your name in the book using the quill, as proof of your fealty and support for this union. Do not drink from your goblets until instructed to do so."

There was a great shuffling of movement as everyone began to line up. Narcissa offered a hand each to Harry and Hermione and guided them to the raised platforms, where the spirit forms of Sirius and Dumbledore beamed widely at them. Harry and Hermione were eased down onto a single, large throne at the base of the platform, beneath an elaborately sculptured golden crown beset with red and purple jewels, in which sat a little cupid who shot arrows first at the lovers and then about the hall in general.

Hermione could only blink at the whole thing, as waves of heady emotion swept over her, intensified beyond description by the effect of Harry's adoring smiles, which she could feel from behind his shawl, even if she couldn't quite see them.

As promised, as soon as Harry and Hermione were seated, a great marble fountain materialised before them, along with a narrow altar of black onyx. One by one, the guests dutifully filed past the Betrothed, filling their goblets and signing their names in the Book of Fealty. Some did more than just sign, writing several lines of support and congratulations for the happy couple.

Hermione couldn't wait to read them later, but for now she just cuddled up to Harry and tried not to blush too deeply at all the warm affection being showered upon them. She felt it might permanently tint her skin crimson if she did. Harry was so soft and warm, safe and cosy, bedecked in a beautiful robe of scarlet and flecked gold, mirroring Hermione's own dress almost exactly in style, though hers was ice-white and interwoven with silver thread instead of gold.

And Hermione was hit with such a sensation as she sat there, melting together with Harry on their shared seat, that she felt full up with happiness. They were together, almost alone in this mass of people, but joined together as one. Dressed alike, sat so impossibly close that they were indistinguishable as separate entities, being loved and well-wished not as Harry and Hermione but as a couple, joined by love, on the brink of an unbreakable union.

That was when it began to feel truly real for Hermione, sat there on her throne with Harry. She slid an arm around his lower back and curled in close, shutting her eyes and just drinking in their shared energy, gorging on it, as though she might never get enough.

But one thing was comfortingly for sure … she had a lifetime to test that theory.

Once everyone was reseated, Narcissa filled a goblet of her own and faced the congregation, raising the goblet to them all.

"Drink, brothers and sisters, and live!"

As one, the assembled guests placed their goblets to their lips and drank deeply, toasting to Harry and Hermione, who felt the Witnessing Oath pass over them with a warmth that seemed to fuse them a little inside. There a was momentary tightness in both their chests, as the newness of their Bond entered their consciousnesses, but it soon passed and left only a lovely heat that surged up from their hearts and set their three eyes alight with the flame of divine passion.

Then the feast began, and there was much talk and drinking and merriment. Once everyone had gorged on all the food and wine and ale that they could manage, a company of young elves - led by Sally - entered the hall to perform a comedy on a stage they had set up on the left hand side. The play was in seven acts and Hermione found that she was getting used to this now, starting to see the pattern of repeating stages and processes and symbols. Even the play, itself, seemed like an alchemical allegory, a roadmap of what was to come that Hermione felt the most confident that she ever had over her capacity to follow the real thing successfully.

And the best part? The comedy had a happy ending … which Hermione was inordinately eager to experience for herself.

Then, once the raucous applause for the young elves had died down and they had taken their bows, Narcissa stood and addressed the congregation again.

"My friends, brothers and sisters!" Narcissa called to them all. "It is seven minutes to twelve and our feast is nearly at an end. To conclude, all must bear witness to the Ascent of the Adepts, as the first to leave the banquet. Tomorrow, they will be joined in a most intimate ceremony, of which only the worthy will be permitted to attend.

"So tonight, consider yourselves deeply. If you wish to join us to witness the final stage of this unique union, assemble in front of the House of Venus at first light. There, a set of scales will be erected to weigh the integrity of each Witness. Those unwilling to bear this ordeal ought not to attend.

"Now, to conclude … the Bridegroom, if you please."

Harry stood and walked to the right, past where Hermione was still seated and into Narcissa's care. She in turn guided him up a shallow flight of seven steps to the handsome, grinning form of Sirius, who bowed to Harry in a gesture of symbolic surrender and fealty. Harry touched his shimmering head with the Potter family ring, and Sirius dissipated into a fine mist.

Narcissa led Harry on, along another seven steps which curved to the right and slightly upwards to Dumbledore, who repeated Sirius' earlier actions. Once he, too, had vanished from view, Harry mounted three more steps to face the throne that Narcissa had occupied throughout the ceremony. It was covered in the same red velvet as her robe and had a purple satin cushion trimmed with a golden tassel. Harry looked at it … and waited patiently.

For Narcissa had now returned to Hermione, calling her to her feet merely as The Bride. Harry thrilled at that, watching as Narcissa flicked her wand and conjured a new set of white steps, twelve in all, that ran directly from where Harry and Hermione had been sat, through the middle of the space between the thrones of Sirius and Dumbledore, with the uppermost step materialising right beneath Harry's feet.

Narcissa led Hermione up the steps to Harry, stood her at his right shoulder, then took his right hand and placed it over her left. Next, she drew her wand and traced a thin line of silver over their skin, binding them together with an earthly vow, one that shone brilliantly a moment before sinking into their flesh.

"When tomorrow, that thread turns gold, so shall you be husband and wife," Narcissa announced with a smile. "Now, go and rest and be renewed. At dawn, we shall begin again."

---

The Ceremony of the Scales was held under the first light of the new day, as tradition dictated. There were far fewer people attending than Hermione had expected. Perhaps some felt this was a ceremony so intimate that only immediate friends and family ought to gain admittance, or maybe it was being held so early that some hadn't been able to shake off hangovers from the celebration the night before.

Or maybe the others simply believed so profoundly in their own shortcomings that they feared the outcome of the test. Hermione felt her heart break for all of them knowing, as she did, just how it felt to be made to feel so utterly valueless under the Dark powers of King Voldemort. This was something she would have to correct in each and every self-doubter.

It was an act she felt befitted her role as their White Queen.

Hermione was woken early by Enola, dressed in a new gown of black silk and escorted to the giant set of golden scales that now stood at the end of a new, single path made of white gravel edged by crushed, sparkling coal, which lead from the lake to the pyramid. There were large weights sat next to the Scales, and Hermione wasn't surprised to find that there were seven in total. There were four small ones, one medium sized and two that were very large.

Harry was the first to be weighed and measured by the Scales. Lit by the fiery first light of the new day, Harry - who was dressed in a black robe almost identical to Hermione's black silk dress - stepped onto the large, golden dish of the Scale and the weights were applied to the counter-balance. But none of them moved him, not even when all seven were applied, and not even when three of the heftier male Witnesses climbed up to sit on the topmost weight.

His integrity assured, Harry smiled a dazzling smile at Hermione, one mostly shrouded to secret by his silk shawl, but still so aflame with love for her that it made Hermione's knees shake violently as it fell on her body. She ached for Harry so much that it was starting to hurt her a little being out of reach of his arms. The next seven hours promised to the most trying form of delicious torture for her.

Harry was escorted from the golden plate by Narcissa, who led him to a door of the pyramid that was shaped like a disc, with flame motifs carved like eruptions from the circular edges. Harry stood a moment in meditative contemplation before them, then the sun's rays fell upon the disc-shaped door, which opened in a dazzling flash of light that none of them could look at.

When the light had dimmed, Harry was gone … and Hermione was injured by the loss.

"Ouch!" Hermione whimpered to Enola, while massaging the stabbing pains pricking at her chest. "That hurt! When Harry went through that door, I felt like someone had punched me in the heart!"

"It's a mark of the strength of your Betrothal Bond," Enola smiled in explanation. "Harry has gone into a hermetically sealed space, one so drenched in arcane power that it might as well be another plane of existence. Crossing a dark boundary like that is bound to sting you both a little."

"Well, I hope I get to go in next," Hermione whined. "I hate this. It's agony, En! I don't know how long I can stand it."

"I'm afraid you'd better get used to it," Enola told her, gravely. "Because we aren't going in next … in fact, we'll be going in last."

"What do you mean? I'm the bloody bride!" Hermione riled. "I should be important enough to go in right after Harry!"

"You are, but you are also the representation of the completion of his Opus," Enola reminded her patiently. "He began it, you have brought it to an end, and when you emerge together it will signal the sealing of that circle and the start of your new life as a Divine Couple."

Hermione huffed, elated and cross at the same time. "So how long do I have to put up with this pain?"

"A little while," Enola confessed. "Separation is part of the alchemical process, just as the act of joining is. You cant have a final union, if the two unifying principles aren't separated from each other for a time."

Hermione blinked in her shock. "You … you're making it sound like all that happened in my life was all necessary … that my being apart from Harry for so long was part of some cosmic design!"

"It was, Narcissa explained all that to me," Enola replied. "Your suffering was never part of the design, but separation and trials are key components for an alchemical couple. You and Harry went through that, were dealt some of the worst cards in Mother Nature's pack … but here you are, on the verge of being united … joined forever, as you were meant to be."

Hermione felt full up with love again, which drove back the dull ache in her body, which retreated into her stomach.

"So, when will I be unified with Harry?" Hermione asked again. "When can we make each other better, because I assume he'll be going through this, too.?"

"He will," Enola confirmed. "And you wont be able to go in for a good few hours."

"What! Why not?" Hermione thundered.

"Harry was lit by the first light of the new sun, as befits his role," Enola explained. "And you cannot enter the pyramid until you are also appropriately illuminated … by the first glow of the new moon, which will rise tonight with the Equinox."

Hermione blinked again as she processed that. "My word … Harry really has covered everything, hasn't he?"

Enola grinned as she nodded. "He has … and I'm insanely jealous of you, Min! Narcissa was telling me about the ceremony, about how closely you will be bonded to Harry … and I want that for me and Nev. It could happen … he is a Red King, just like Harry, so I'm hoping we can do this one day."

"So, how will it all work?" Hermione asked, moved by Enola's words.

"The ceremony starts off simple - you will be cleansed and purified, your essence and Harry's dissolved into Mercurial waters … his own energies added yours," said Enola. "You will infuse each other, bonding more closely than any normal couple could ever hope to imagine. In terms of connected union between two people, we are pretty much venturing into unheard of territory ... then you and Harry will have a lifetime to explore what that really means.

"I truly envy you, Hermione. You are about to be given one the most beautiful gifts that nature has to offer … and I so wish that Neville and I will be able to do this, too."

Hermione felt a breath escape her. She was beyond humbled by Enola's reverent words, her venerated tone … Hermione didn't know how to receive either. She needed Harry, right now. She couldn't deal with all this alone.

The other guests were measured one by one on the Scales, their integrity measured. All of them passed, even Sue Bones, even though by being moved by five of the weights she was nearly omitted from the rest of the ceremony. She joined Arianwen and Alice, Luna, Cassie, Angharad and Myfanwy, Sir David, Patrick and Angus, and finally Frank and Owain completed the party of twelve who would Witness, in addition to Enola, Neville and Narcissa, who were part of the rite themselves.

Hermione wasn't able to partake in the Ceremony of the Scales until the moon was full in the night sky, which proved to be a torturous, anxious wait of over twelve hours. She spent much of this time in a state of restless worry, driven miserable by her concerns. They plagued her, ate away at her fraught mind, sent her to disquieted distraction that meant she couldn't settle to anything besides her roiling panic.

What if she didn't pass the test? What if the Scales deemed her unworthy and flung her off to drown in the lake? How could she face Harry after that? Would he still want to be with her, even if they weren't able to marry in this way? Which was something that Hermione didn't even want to contemplate happening, as Enola's constant vaunting of alchemical marriage made Hermione feel sorry for everyone else who had to marry in the conventional way.

It was a way that, somehow, just didn't seem enough for Hermione anymore, not after all she'd learned in her short time submerged in the subject of alchemy.

But Hermione needn't have worried, for no sooner had the last, heaviest weight been applied to her counter-balance during her Test … which was just as ineffective at moving her as the others had been before it … than Narcissa was escorting her to the pyramid, to a door next to Harry's that had been invisible in the daylight.

"In a moment, the moon will reach it's highest point in the night sky," Narcissa told her, quietly, her red-purple robe flapping in a steady breeze.. "At the Lunar Zenith, the door will open. Take a moment, to leave all your worldly concerns behind, then step inside … Harry will be waiting for you, as eager to be reunited with you are you are with him."

"I wont hesitate," Hermione promised, faithfully.

"Good girl," Narcissa smiled. "Now … get ready. Here it comes!"

Three seconds later and Hermione felt the door, and herself, burst alive with silvery moonlight. It shone dazzlingly around the crescent-shaped portal and Hermione felt a fierce force tugging her forwards, as the barrier between her and Harry was lifted. Searing hot love washing over her like a torrent of lava, Hermione swore off anything and everything that might have existed in the rest of the world.

For Harry was inside this pyramid, and there was nothing else in the world outside that could even remotely tempt her to stay there. Smiling deeply, she sucked in a huge breath, then took seven steps forwards ...

---

Hermione found herself in a cool, utterly dark room. She couldn't see her hand in front of her face … she couldn't see Harry … but she knew undoubtedly that he was there with her.

"Hey you," he breathed lightly from an unseen point in the darkness.

"Where are you?" Hermione whispered back. "I cant see a thing in here!"

"Forget about your eyes … your eyes can be deceiving," Harry hushed back, a step or two closer now. "They make you think I'm ugly, I know they do. But, in here, I'm as handsome as you ever remembered me being."

"Or as handsome as you will be again, when I fix you," Hermione promised. "I love you, and I'm loving doing this … though I'm going to tell you off for not explaining it to me better and sooner … and for not warning me that I'd spend half of my wedding day in abject misery!"

Harry laughed somewhere in the darkness. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder! That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!"

"Well, it worked," Hermione admitted, fairly. "I've missed you like mad all day! You had better have a good plan to make it up to me!"

"Oh, I do … I finished our marital chamber enchantments last night … they'll be ready once the Reception is over."

Hermione huffed in the dark. "Then it will be the shortest Reception in the recorded history of weddings … alchemical or otherwise!"

Harry chortled back just as a shaft of light illuminated the chamber. It grew and grew until it filled the entire room, as Narcissa led the wedding procession into the place, which, Harry whispered to Hermione, was called the Alembic. All of the Witnesses were now dressed in identical, high-collared scarlet robes with golden tassels, and Narcissa's ceremonial gown now looked a deep, regal purple in the half-light from her flaming torch.

Then there was the chamber itself, which was totally bizarre. They were at the base of the pyramid, so the room was a perfect square, but the corners of the chamber had been raised and rounded, forming a flawless circle in the centre of the space. At the heart of the circle were two, long vessels made from shiny, black stone … that Hermione morbidly thought looked like coffins … and next to these were two fountains, again carved from the same black stone, one containing a silvery substance and the other more of a golden colour. Neville stood astride these fountains holding two, very large, silver ewers.

At two sides of the room, cut into the very stone itself, were two flights of stairs made from gleaming marble, that seemed to sparkle where the torchlight caught the edges. Hermione tried to see where they led, but it was palpably dark above their heads, and all she could make out was a dark, uncertain path. Hermione shivered slightly as she stood at the edge of this dark abyss, pondering the voyage.

Then she was shaken, as Enola came up quietly from behind and took her arm, before guiding her down to the centre of the squared circular room. She felt like a little dot at the very heart of it. Close up, the oblong vessels seemed more like ceremonial baths than anything else, which calmed Hermione slightly, even though she still thought they looked a bit too much like coffins for comfort.

Enola led her to the side of the bath on the right, then moved to join Neville standing between them. Harry stood by the other bath, and turned his head to the right to give Hermione an encouraging smile. Hermione looked back warmly, then glanced at the staircase on her other side, then up at the gloom again, then down into the bath, as Neville began to dip one ewer into the silver water, then the other into the gold, before pouring them both together into the empty chamber in front of Hermione.

Once it was full, Neville began the process on Harry's bath, as Enola offered Hermione her hand … and motioned her to step into her bath and its swirling, milky depths.

The water was cool but not unbearably so. Hermione slunk down into it, watching the skirt of her robe billow up comically as she became fully submerged. Enola helped her pat it down, until it grew heavy with the water and sank under its own weight. Hermione took a deep breath, waiting for whatever was coming next.

Narcissa stepped forward just then. She had handed off her sconce to someone else and was now bearing a thin sheet of emerald green crystal, which she now proceeded to read from.

"In time honoured tradition, following the instructions laid out in the Emerald Tablet, we begin this Alchemical Wedding" she began dramatically, holding aloft the item in her hand for all to see. "The Matter for the Work has been selected, in the form of the Lovers you see before you. The dross has been burned off, the Prima Materia prepared, and now we engage upon the spiritual path to grant everlasting love and enlightenment to the purified souls.

"Harry James Potter … the Prima Materia … the Matter of the Work … your chosen, ideal partner has reached the stage of Dissolution. She has overcome trials by fire, has learned to let go of her earthly struggles and awaits you to join her. To achieve this, you must allow the destruction of your ego … you know what to do."

Hermione looked over curiously at Harry just then, wondering what he was about to do. She saw his slumped shoulders rise and fall with his anxiety, as he waged a war inside, and she suddenly thought she knew what was about to happen … and how hard it would be for him. She wanted to stop him, to call out and race to his rescue. But the Mercurial waters seemed to have rendered her inert and mute … she couldn't move … couldn't cry out in protest …

She could only float there and watch in heartsick horror … as Harry reached up to the back of his head … and slowly began unwrapping his veil … before beckoning his closest friends to move right up next to him, and cast their pitying judgement over his ruined, smashed face.

And the assorted gasps from those who hadn't seen, who had never known the true extent of it before, cut to Harry like the hottest, blackest knives. He seemed to shrink a full foot in the face of their collective, compassionate disgust.

The sound sliced piercingly to Hermione's heart, too. She screamed inside, cursed all her friends for their cowardess, then willed Harry to stand up and face them with all the courage she knew he held within. Amazingly, as Hermione watched in her silent astonishment, Harry seemed to hear her. His shoulders rose up, squared off in that powerful stance he possessed, and he looked at each of the congregation in turn.

And it was the youngest of them who responded first.

Handing aside the torch she'd been carrying from Narcissa, little Celesca Lovegood - who Hermione hadn't noticed in the dark - stepped right into Harry and wrapped her tiny arms around his thighs and clung on like a limpet, her eyes shut as tight as she could get them.

"I love you, Mister Harry, no matter what you look like."

Hermione heard Harry break in a snap of powerful tears. She was beside herself in her bath, heavy emotion thumping at her from all parts of her heart. Love for Harry, love for little Cesc and her courage, when the adults around her didn't know how to show theirs … and proud of Harry, immensely proud, for facing this fundamental fear in such a public way.

And his public quickly followed Celesca's example. Harry was unable to return her declaration of affection, such was the force of his surging emotion, but she wouldn't have heard it anyway, as first Luna, then Myfanwy, then every single one of them closed ranks on Harry and hugged him dearly, in turn and as a group … as the family they truly were.

And then, just like that, Hermione fell in love with the whole lot of them!

Harry was eventually persuaded to step away from the others. He looked up at the ceiling, gathering his composure in a series of raspy breaths as he fought to regain mastery of himself. It took a minute or so, but once he was calmer, Neville approached him, gave him the biggest hug of the lot, then helped him to slide under the water of his own ceremonial bath.

Narcissa joined Neville, then turned to smile at her granddaughter. "Celesca? Are you ready?"

"I am," Celesca chirruped brightly. "What do you need me to do, Nanny Ciss?"

"Can you take hold of Harry's internal energy cord?" asked Narcissa. Celesca nodded that she could. "Good. Do that ... and then guide it into the water, before doing the same thing with Hermione."

Celesca stepped forward and closed her eyes, holding her hand over Harry's chest. Her tiny fingers closed around something that Hermione couldn't see. Harry seemed to jerk and writhe a moment, then became utterly still. Celesca nodded at a job well done, then turned to face Hermione.

"Sorry, Miss Hermione … this is going to feel a bit strange."

A bit strange! That definition didn't even come close! Hermione felt as if Celesca had reached down her throat and into the very base of her life energies, before dragging them out through her navel. She lost her breath at the invasion, and was too shocked by the sensation to offer any kind of resistance or response.

"One minute … one minute … there!" Celesca cried triumphantly. "All done!"

"Very good," Narcissa smiled. "Now, Harry and Hermione, allow yourselves to completely relax. Open yourself up to the energies of the world, of the water, of the magic of the chamber. You will bathe here for one hour. Use that time to meditate, to think about your wonderful future together. After one hour, the ceremonial waters will be drained, they will be purified and treated, then prepared for you to receive them again … when we complete the operation and announce your union as husband and wife."

The hour passed in a flash. Hermione thought all about her past, her present … indulged in every fantastical dream about her future. She knew that Harry was doing exactly the same, though she had no idea how she was so sure. She didn't know his exact thoughts, but she could pick up on the gist, and she knew he was just as euphoric about their promise as she was.

Then the water was swirling away beneath her, until she was laying on the bottom of the bath, which was definitely deep enough to be a coffin. Trying not to think about that, Hermione greatly accepted Enola's hand when she offered it to her, pulling herself up with her Maid of Honour's support and stepping out of the bath.

It was then she noticed, with utter astonishment, that she was completely dry.

Shaking her head in wonder, Hermione numbly allowed Enola to lead her to the steps on her side of the room, while Neville led Harry to the set of stairs opposite. More separation, Hermione thought, missing Harry for every micron of the second or so that he was out of her sight, as they passed through parallel holes in the ceiling to the floor above.

Once everyone was assembled again, Narcissa approached Harry and placed a dark, Scotch Cap over his head. Hermione was thankful a moment, for Narcissa protecting Harry's modesty, but it quickly became clear that the gesture wasn't about that at all. For Narcissa pushed Harry to the centre of the room, which looked the same as the one below, only smaller and without the baths.

Once there, Narcissa forced Harry to his knees and arranged the congregation in a circle around him, all with their backs to him.

"Harry James Potter," Narcissa called out. "You are Separated from your peers … scorned by them for your failings … bitter at what you allowed to happen to your Bride. Meditate on that … think about it … and think hard."

Hermione turned to scowl at Enola, who was similarly looking away from Harry.

"What is this?" Hermione demanded, as she felt Harry's anguish spike in her own chest. "What's going on?"

"This is the Separation," Enola explained. "Harry must accept, then let go of, the shadowy things from his past, the things that he is most ashamed of ... separate himself from them. Then he must allow dreams back into his consciousness … and truly accept that he has earned the right to dream again."

"What? No!" Hermione riled, angrily. "That's awful! I wont allow it, wont stand for it!"

"You must!" Enola implored. "This is the only way for him to cleanse his soul … to finally let go of his guilt … over you."

Harry heard that, and whimpered as tears dissolved him again. Hermione shoved herself past Enola … but the congregation barred her progress.

"Out of my way!" Hermione demanded. "Harry! I'm coming! Move aside, Sue!"

But Sue held her ground, as though bound by some invisible, impenetrable force. There was no way through. Hermione went to rage against it, then something in her mind stopped her, as though thinking clearly for a second.

This was symbolic, so she had to treat it that way. This was how Harry felt about everything, guilty for crimes real or imagined … they were all very potent in his mind. And hadn't they decided how they were going to heal each other of such things? Suddenly, Hermione knew what to do. She took a deep breath.

"Harry … I forgive you … for everything," she called out softly. "I was hurt, but you healed me … I was sad, but you made me happy … I was lost, but now I am home … now let me bring you home, too."

And, as though a spell was broken, the congregation parted for Hermione, then turned to face them as she hurried forward and scooped Harry up into a powerful embrace.

"That's it, no more separation," she breathed into his ear, smiling warmly as she threaded her fingers rhythmically through his hair. "We're never being parted again."

"No, not ever," Harry agreed, hugging her close to him. "Come on … not much longer to go now."

They stood together, never once letting go of the other. They might as well have been fused as one. They moved together to the staircase on Harry's side and Narcissa addressed them again.

"We will accompany you no longer," she announced. "The opposite staircase will now take us to the final chamber, where the Opus shall be completed. The next stages, you must complete alone. We shall see you soon."

And with that, Narcissa led the procession to Hermione's staircase and they slowly made their way up through the gap in the ceiling, which closed up once the last of them had passed through.

"So, what's next?" Hermione asked, breathlessly. She didn't want to let Harry go, not even to climb the seven steps to the next floor.

"Next comes our Conjunction," Harry explained as they began the ascent. "The first time we must work together, and only together, to complete a task."

"A bit like when we saved Sirius and Buckbeak," Hermione considered, as she followed Harry up the stairs. "We did that all alone."

"We did, and you were amazing," Harry smiled as he fondly remembered.

"Me?" Hermione chortled. "I wasn't the one who dispelled a hundred Dementors with one spell!"

"No, but you were the one who looked after my best interests, even though you knew how badly I'd react, when you went to McGonagall about that Firebolt," Harry pointed out. "Then you were the only one who helped Hagrid fight for Buckbeak's freedom, even though you were snowed under with your schoolwork. Then you were prepared to fight someone we thought was a mass-murderer, when we faced off to Sirius in the Shrieking Shack. You're a real-life heroine, Hermione."

Hermione grabbed the back of Harry's robes and turned him bodily to face her, as she pulled him close for another lingering kiss. The force of Hermione's yank on Harry caused them to topple backwards down the stairs, where they curled up in a heap, still kissing furiously. It was a good few minutes before they broke apart, breathless and shivery with passion, battling for some clean air.

Harry grinned down at her. "What was that for?"

"For you, stupid!" Hermione laughed. "You just know all the right things to say to set me off. It's getting quite annoying, actually!"

Harry laughed and fell down atop her for another hug. "Come on then … let's get up and see what's next, get to a point where we don't need words anymore."

"Now that's a promise I like the sound of!" Hermione hooted, as Harry helped her back to her feet.

But the next floor didn't seem to have an obvious answer. There were no more stairs, no way to reach a wide circular portal that was floating high above them. All they found was a deep pond of silvery-blue liquid with a plain rowing boat, painted white, bobbing merrily at the heart of it. For a while, both Harry and Hermione just stared at it.

"What do we do?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Harry frowned. "Just get on the boat, I suppose."

Then he stepped forward … and Hermione saw what was about to happen, but couldn't move quick enough to stop it.

"No, Harry! I don't think …"

But Harry was already in mid-flow. He placed his foot on the boat, which was too flimsy to take his weight. It slipped from beneath him, pitching him over into the water, before drifting harmlessly away.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried, as she erupted in laughter. "I did try to tell you!"

"Well try harder next time!" Harry scythed. "I haven't even got my wand to dry myself off!"

Hermione tried very hard to stop giggling, but Harry was riled by the challenge now. He chased the boat around the pond and tried again … and again … but the same result happened, leaving Harry very wet and very cross.

"Will you stop laughing!?" Harry cried, as Hermione wheezed up next to him, clutching at her chest in her mirth.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione tried vainly. "But you should see yourself … it's so funny!"

"Well maybe you might want to stop laughing and try to help me!" Harry scowled. "Or do you not want to finish our marriage at all?"

That worked. Hermione calmed and slowed her breathing. "Right … this is going to want some thinking about."

"Take your time," Harry bitched, throwing himself into the lotus position to stave off a tantrum.

So Hermione did, circling the pond three times as she considered the problem. Then, she came to an abrupt stop.

"Right, I've got it!" Hermione announced in triumph. "We have to work together. That's what you said. So that's what we'll do. We'll get on the boat together, at the same time, then we'll see what happens."

Harry was dubious, but he went along with it. He and Hermione joined hands, and slowly tried to board the errant boat. It didn't seem to work at first, but with a bit of timing and co-ordination, moving in complete synchronicity, the boat became firmer and more stable … they edged forwards, and with one last haul, they finally stepped aboard the little ship, which rocked in gentle Harmony as they sat inside it.

And immediately, two balls of flame erupted above their heads. These orbs of fire then soared up, before splashing into the water below them. Utterly perplexed, Harry and Hermione watched as the fireballs slowly began to heat up the water. It bubbled and churned and popped all around around them. And then, carried by the steam from the bubbles, the boat began to rise into the air.

Up and up they went, the heat all around them smothering and causing them to sweat. Both were thinking just how unsuitable their clothes were for a wedding ceremony now … when suddenly, as they passed through the portal in the roof, their robes turned from soiled black into fresh, shimmering white, as though an invisible dye was washing over them.

"Well, that was pretty funky!" Hermione nodded, smoothing out the satin of her new robe. She looked across to Harry. "You look good … all clean and pure … ripe for me to corrupt all over again!"

Harry barked out a laugh. "I look forward to it. Oh wow … look at that!"

Hermione glanced around as they entered the next room. It was so bright and white in here that it was like being trapped in the middle of a cloud. It was hard to see anything as they stepped out of the boat, and for a moment it looked like there was nothing there, until Hermione looked to where Harry was pointing. And there she saw a dove, a swan … and a large, shining white …

"Hippogriff!" Hermione whispered. "It isn't Buckbeak, is it? How odd would that be, as we were just talking about him?"

"It would be odd, but it isn't him," Harry mused. "But I think I know why he's here."

"Why?"

"Symbolic flight," Harry explained. "More specifically, our symbolic flight. For to fly with a partner on a hippogriff is to be blessed by the divine love essence. We already have … that blessing is ours … so it is fitting that a hippogriff appears now to bear us to the final step. Are you ready?"

Hermione smiled beautifully. "Harry … I think I was ready the moment we slid off Buckbeak all those years ago! Come on … we're almost late for our own wedding!"

Both knowing instinctively what to do, they approached the silver-white hippogriff, bowed to the great beast, then climbed aboard when he bowed back and beckoned them forward.

"It's just like old times," Harry funned, as he locked his arms around Hermione's waist.

Then the hippogriff took flight, with far more grace than Buckbeak had ever displayed. The swan and dove did the same, leading Harry and Hermione on three orbits of the room as they climbed higher and higher, before breaking through the cloud … and emerging into a chamber far more suitable for a marriage.

They were in a pretty little chapel in the domed apex of the pyramid. It was impossible to tell if it was night or day, or even how much time had passed. For the light from Harry's dawn streamed in through two segments of the roof, while the glow of Hermione's dusky moon poured in from the other two. They mixed in the chapel, illuminating everything with the brilliant golden glow of the midday sun and midnight moon combined.

The congregation were all seated in three rows, divided by a central aisle with a scarlet carpet, in front of an altar that Narcissa was standing behind. The oak-panelled walls of the chapel dripped with red and white flowers, and golden torches in purple brackets crackled away around them. Music began to play from the very air itself, and Enola and Neville emerged from either side of the aisle, to begin escorting Harry and Hermione towards the altar, in front of which was another large bath made of clear glass. A figure of Saturn with his scythe stood at the end facing the altar.

Hermione was shivering with delirious, excited nerves. With each step, the moment of union grew closer. And she could hear Harry thinking it, too .. almost there, almost there … as though he expected it to fall apart at the last minute. She took his hand and squeezed it lovingly, willing him to know that she was his, and that she was going nowhere. He turned, and for a moment … just a flicker of a second … Hermione saw his face without his scar … and it was the single most beautiful thing in her world.

Then they reached the altar and Neville and Enola took up positions on either side of the matrimonial bath. Celesca was sat in the front seat, rocking back and forth on her chair with restless energy, nearly as excited for this as Harry and Hermione were.

Narcissa smiled warmly at the lovers, then beckoned them into the single bath. Enola and Neville discharged their duties, moving Harry and Hermione to face each on their knees until they knocked together.

"Are you ready to make your vows?" Narcissa asked to the lovers.

"We are," they replied in unison.

"Never, in my life, have I come across two people, two souls, so perfectly suited to one another," said Narcissa. "Nature has ordained this union, brought these two separate halves together. Let all aspects of magic bless and Bond them as One."

"May magic bless and Bond them," the audience recited.

"I call upon the Spirits of Alchemy to Bind this union, to align this perfection for eternity," Narcissa went on. She drew two vials from her robe, offered one to Enola, and the other to Neville. "Maid of Honour ... seal this union."

Enola stepped forwards, tears glistening in her eyes as she beamed at Harry and Hermione in turn. Then she took Hermione's left arm, turned it, then linked it with Harry's left arm. Then she poured the contents of the vial over the point where the arms linked together.

"Left to left … a joining of the minds," Enola recited. "I call on Queen Luna, Goddess of the Moon, to bless this union. I offer Mercury, body of the White Queen, and my own blessed power."

There was an eruption of magic around the chapel, one so powerful it whipped Enola's long hair around as though she had been caught in a gale. It took Hermione's breath away a moment, as did the surge of thoughts she suddenly had … for they were not her own …

… they were Harry's ... his thoughts were in her head!

Harry grinned knowingly as he spotted Hermione's astonished expression. He knew … he knew this was going to happen. Ooh, she was going to tell him off for that later. But Narcissa was speaking again.

"The Best of Men," said Narcissa. "Seal this union."

Neville stepped forward, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, overcome with the emotion of the moment. His voice was fracturing as he spoke, as he copied his wife's actions, snaking Harry's right arm under their conjoined left ones and linking it with Hermione's.

"Right to right … a joining of the spirits. I call on King Sol, Lord of the Sun, to bless this union. I offer sulphur, body of the Red King, and my own blessed power."

And he tipped the vial of red liquid over Harry and Hermione's inter-crossed arms which now formed a very definite figure of eight … the symbol of infinity.

And the silver line that Narcissa had drawn at the banquet the night before flared up in vivid gold, burned dazzlingly for exactly seven seconds, then melted into Harry and Hermione's flesh with a surge of gorgeous heat.

If anyone had been watching through a window, they might have thought the room had been hit by a sudden hurricane. Nowhere, in the history of magical Britain, had a level of magic of this magnitude ever been recorded. It would be told and retold by those who experienced it for years to come.

Narcissa took a breath, and held onto Celesca tightly, as though afraid the rushing magic might somehow sweep her away. Then she regarded the lovers again. Of all the people being buffeted by this sparkling, magical gale, Harry and Hermione alone seemed unaffected. It was as if they were the eye of their own, irrepressible storm of delicious emotion.

Narcissa cleared her throat and moved back behind her altar. "May all here rise, to bear witness to the spiritual joining of Harry James Potter and Hermione Jane Granger.

"Do you, Hermione Jane, take Harry James as your eternal husband? Do you give your mind to his mind … your thoughts to his thoughts … your heart to his heart, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Hermione whispered. Tears were coming. She knew it. They were tickling behind her eyelids already.

Narcissa reached down for a huge golden ewer from beside the bath, and slowly poured the contents of the purified Mercurial water over the crown of Hermione's head. When it was empty, the entire bath was half full with silvery liquid. The next thing Hermione knew was that she was swimming in a pool of Harry. That was the best way she could describe it. She felt his power, his energy, all his emotion flowing all around her with the swirling water. It was the single most contented moment of her entire life. She would have happily stayed in it forever.

Then Narcissa turned to Harry. "And do you, Harry James, take Hermione Jane as your eternal wife? Do you give your mind to her mind … your thoughts to her thoughts … your heart to her heart, for as long as you both shall live?"

Hermione closed her eyes, smiled inside with so much love that it hurt. She didn't need to look as Harry answered the question … the emotion in his response was so emphatic it left her a little senseless.

"I truly and completely do."

Hermione's tears came closer to the surface, as Narcissa poured a second huge ewer of water over Harry's head, turning the water golden. Hermione could feel Harry's spirit rise inside her with her tears, almost as if his loving emotions had spilled over into her own heart.

"And do you both," Narcissa went on. "Give your soul … to the other's soul?"

Warm tears fell before Hermione could stop them. Her words caught with the joyous sobs they were borne on.

"We do."

And Hermione gasped. She hadn't answered first, which she might be cross about later. But it wasn't her voice hanging in the air now ... for Harry had beaten her to this wondrous declaration.

Harry eased Hermione's head up to look at him, his one eye streaming with tears. He looked so incredibly happy that Hermione felt certain her heart would explode if she looked too long.

"We do," she echoed through her own delirious weeping. "We so totally do!"

And then Harry was kissing her, dragging her under the water with his infectious enthusiasm. They resurfaced a full minute later, spluttering and laughing and clinging onto each so impossibly tightly. Harry looked hungrily into her face, his eye literally every lovely emotion he'd ever felt all at once.

"We haven't reached that bit yet!" Narcissa grinned. Then she stepped back and called to Celesca.

"It's time, sweetheart."

"Oh, goody!" Celesca sang. She leapt up and hurried to the bath.

"You know what to do," Narcissa urged, nodding to Celesca.

"Right. Hold on Mister Harry and Miss Hermione. This is going to tickle like crazy I imagine."

Then Celesca dove her hands into the water, grabbing hold of these invisible cords of energy that only she could see. She grinned impishly at Harry, then at Hermione … then, ever so slowly, she moved her hands closer together.

And the new Mr and Mrs Potter were utterly devastated by the ferocity of their own love for each other, as it exploded out from them like a bomb.

"Ooh … the cords … they're touching now!" Celesca swooned. "It's so pretty, like two halves meeting after years and years and years apart! Oh Nanny … Mummy! It's so beautiful! I wish you could See like I can … you should see the light coming off them ... it's like they are glowing with gold! It's so bright and lovely … I want one."

It was a good thing Celesca was saying something, because Hermione had lost all concept of language. In fact, she'd lost all concept of everything. Life was being redefined, rewritten as she floated there, hugging Harry impossibly close. She had no idea how she was still alive, because she'd forgotten how to breathe. All she knew was this connection, this link from her soul, touching Harry's own and fusing with it in the most tender, delicate and unbelievably emotional way, a way she had never even conceived would be possible.

"Never, ever … in all my life …" Narcissa breathed lowly, clinging to the side of the altar for support. "Have I ever felt anything like this! I think I'm melting."

"I've become a jelly," Enola whispered, nodding in hearty agreement. She was clutching onto Neville, smoothing his hair. He had fallen to his knees, so overcome with the gorgeous emotion shooting all around the chapel that he was weeping into Enola's thighs. She cooed to him and held him close, as each member of the congregation rose and found someone to love, too.

"You have to finish the ceremony, Nanny Ciss," said Celesca. "Seal them together forever. They ought to never be apart again. It would be so wrong if that happened."

"You're right," said Narcissa, gathering herself again. "Harry, Hermione … can you hear me?"

"Y-yeah," Hermione spluttered out. She could only imagine how unfocused she looked.

"Do it, Narcissa," Harry implored. "Tell Cesc what to do … tell her to take our cords, tie them together … Hermione and I are ready to tie the knot."

Hermione's jaw dropped open. It stayed that way as Celesca followed the instruction, gently turning and twisting the energy cords until they were tied together. Narcissa stepped close, then conjured a ball of fire from a dainty wrist circlet she was wearing.

"The Secret Fire!" she cried out, holding aloft the flame. "Let it fuse this Bond forever … let it turn this pair of individuals into a single entity … let it announce them as Husband and Wife."

And Narcissa cast the Secret Fire at the Bond. It melted the knot, then fused it back together as a single, unbreakable cord. It exploded with a burst of light, and a flash of heat so warm that Harry and Hermione were tinted red a moment, as though infused with the deepest blush. Then, when the light dimmed, there were two more figures standing either side of the matrimonial bath.

"Mum! Dad!" Harry called. "You're late!"

"Nonsense," Lily beamed through teary eyes. "We arrived precisely when we meant to! Here, Hermione … these are for you. A bouquet of twelve red roses, the traditional flower carried by every Mrs Potter."

Hermione smiled widely as she accepted the roses, allowing Lily to carefully thread one into her hair.

Then James approached Celesca and smiled as he knelt down. "I understand you are the Ring Bearer?"

"I am, because they wouldn't let me be a flower girl," Celesca confirmed.

James chuckled deeply. "This job is more important anyway. Here, take these."

And he handed Celesca a pair of glimmering golden rings with red stones set into them ... offcuts of a genuine Philosopher's Stone. James smiled at Celesca.

"Give these to your Grandmother … let her finish the ceremony … to announce my son and his partner as Mr and Mrs Potter."

Celesca beamed widely and followed the instruction. Narcissa took the rings, handed one to Harry and the other to Hermione, who took turns slipping them onto the ring finger of the other.

"I declare this ceremony complete ... and announced this couple as … Bonded for Eternity!" Narcissa cried out joyously. "Arise … Mr and Mrs Potter."

Rapturous applause exploded all around the little chapel. Trumpets sounded, Lily the Phoenix burst into the place in a gout of flame and circled Harry and Hermione three times, soaking them with heat and turning their gowns from white into the perfect red-purple … the Opus was complete, the union sealed …

And Harry and Hermione were husband and wife.

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