Hello! Here's a chapter that I hope you guys enjoy! I do quite enjoy Hermione being a complete bad ass and becoming a royal out of sheer brilliance, and I hope you do to!
The bright red box sat before her ominously, its gold-leafed letters taunting her as they glinted in the low light of the office. Well, not the office. It had some sort of fancy title that Hermione couldn't be bothered to remember, but it certainly held some significance. King Marvolo, King Morfin, Queen Merope and even King Tom I and his recently deceased son, King Tom II had all sat here and worked.
While she did not care who had previously perched on this chair to open this box, the people did, which unfortunately meant she had to respect it instead of setting it alight with her fury. The gold lettering was in mint condition, of course. She was slightly surprised by that, however. The box had not been used since Queen Merope's time.
She didn't think that a maid went into wherever the scarlet box was kept just to give it a daily dusting, and yet the gold inscription declaring it the Queen's box remained clear as day. Pulling herself from her thoughts, she began rifling through the blasted thing.
She couldn't keep herself from remembering how she had helped her late husband read through it all, eager to learn how it all worked and what to do when she was Queen. Tom, as brilliant as he thought he was, insisted that paper shuffling should be done by two instead of one. He had not been a bad partner, she reflected. Merely an unsuspecting pawn.
While his constant whinging and ignorant remarks had made him nearly unbearable, he had countered it with relatively well-rounded actions and a rather stable work ethic.
Before she knew it, hours had passed, and her lady-in-waiting was knocking on her door.
"Come in!" She called, massaging her temples as a headache began to form. Caroline scurried into the room, dropping into a hasty curtsy with a murmured 'Your Majesty'.
"Forgive me, but the Duke of Manchester has requested an immediate audience, and I've been sent to get you ready." She said apologetically, knowing just how much the Queen disliked this particular Duke.
Hermione sighed loudly, standing up tiredly and stretching. Caroline giggled quietly, before becoming a petrified mouse at her own lack of composure. Hermione turned and smiled at her.
"It's quite alright, Caroline. I may be Queen, but it hardly matters in an informal setting. We're about the same age, yes? It's more then acceptable to engage in comradery." Hermione said kindly, watching Caroline smile brightly. Hermione nodded towards the garment bag in Caroline's arms.
"Yes! I picked out that black suit that I know you like. I figured you could use any advantage that you could whilst meeting with the emwretched /emDuke of Manchester. And of course, still wear mourning colours for the late King Tom. " Caroline informed her, remembering the terrible temper tantrum the Queen had had after her last meeting with the Duke.
"Thank you, Caroline, you are quite right. I think wretched is the best way to describe him." Hermione said dryly, ignoring the comment about her late husband and hustling out of the office, Caroline in tow.
"Mr. Malfoy. As much as I do enjoy your company, may I ask what was so urgent that you simply had to call upon me quite so suddenly?" The Queen asked, sat regally in her chair, leaning forward to let the blonde bastard kiss her hand. She handed him a cup of tea and began to stir sugar into her own.
"Your Majesty, I simply insist you call me Draco. I wanted to inform you of Astoria's wonderful news! She is with child, and my wife and I wanted your blessing to announce it to the public. I know that our nation is still grieving the loss of His Majesty, King Tom, but this child could be a symbol of hope!" The Duke said, nearly going off on a tangent but seemingly stopping himself. Hermione covered a rude face, keeping her composure.
She didn't like children. It was just a plain fact. They were icky, high maintenance and annoying. Thankfully, the death of Tom should stave off any nudges towards making an heir to the throne.
When the time came, she would neatly marry some well-off and respected man and after getting pregnant she would kill him and raise the child on her own. She wouldn't need to worry about some arrogant man teaching her child how to be just like him.
Draco was staring at her expectantly, his stormy eyes poking her. She sighed, watching his lean frame tense. She enjoyed watching him suffer in the silence for a moment, knowing that he could not address her again until she spoke, as was formal etiquette.
After circling her gloved fingers around the rim of her cup for a time, she looked up at him, nearly smiling at the nerves that wrought his posture.
"I suppose you may. Give Mrs. Malfoy my best and tell her that I will join her for a celebratory tea soon." Hermione replied shortly, watching the pale Duke relax and smile.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." He replied, waiting for her to push her little button that told the men outside the door to let them out. She surveyed him for a moment before reaching over an placing a finger on the gilded button and holding.
The Duke bowed and left promptly. Fuck it, she thought, I'll be a king instead.
Hermione finished her tea and left the room, thanking the servants that came after her to clean up the tea. They still managed to look startled at her thanks, which was surprising.
Ever since she had arrived at the Palace, she made sure to thank everyone who worked in the household. She would've thought that they were used to it by now. She strode out of the hallway and back to her office.
She finished up most of the paperwork in the scarlet box, severely tempted to throw it all out the window. Look at all this bureaucratic shite.
By the time she was done, it was nearly time for dinner. She was escorted to the terribly lonely dining room and sat alone.
She wondered what her old childhood friend Harry thought of her now. She hadn't talked to him in years, ever since she began her political climb. Regardless, he had been a friendly face. He'd defended her from the start, shielding her from the world that he had experienced one to many a time.
She hadn't needed to be protected, but it had been a comfort to know that he cared. She'd help him boost his marks and helped him apply for a scholarship.
She motioned to one of the many butlers scattered about the room. He quickly made his way over to her, bowing deeply.
"Kingsley, I need to find an old friend. Who could I ask to help me?" She asked, nearly laughing at his expression. He seemed rather surprised that she remembered his name.
"Your Majesty, I believe that you could simply send a summons to them and pay for their travel here, or wherever you would like to meet them." He said nervously, though his deep voice betrayed nothing.
Hermione nodded
"Thank you, Kingsley. That will be all." She said, standing up and brushing her trousers off. The doors were hastily pulled open for her as she strode to her office once more.
She picked up the gilded phone, momentarily swept away by the memory of murdering her husband and frantically calling for help on an identical one.
"Your Majesty, how may I assist you?" A feminine voice asked, slightly tinny through the phone.
"I need to request a meeting with Harry James Potter. Have a messenger sent to him, requesting his presence at The Goring for dinner, please. Make sure his transportation is paid for as well." Hermione shot off, eager at the prospect of seeing her friend again.
"Of course, Ma'am. Can I help you with anything else?" The woman asked.
"Have a bottle of vodka sent up, please." The Queen requested. She didn't register what the woman said, hanging up on her abruptly.
She stumbled into her chair; her mind assaulted with images of Tom bleeding out in her lap. His cold eyes gleaming with that final, delicious moment of recognition. His fingers trembling, unsure if he should stroke her cheeks or slap her. His warm blood gushing around her, bathing her in a coating of scarlet. She was not unlike a phoenix at that moment, bathed in blood.
She blinked, unsure of how much time had passed. A loud knock sounded from the door.
"Come in." She called, nearly salivating at the thought of losing herself in a wave of alcohol.
A maid came in, carrying a silver platter. Atop it was a shining, polished and iced bottle of vodka, a crystal tumbler, and a small bowl of ice. The maid placed the tray onto the low mahogany table.
"Goodnight, Your Majesty." The maid said, curtsying low and scurrying from the room. Hermione rushed forward, cracking the bottle open.
She gulped straight from the bottle, unsure of why she craved the burning of alcohol down her throat quite so badly.
Next up, a meeting with old friend Harry! Please leave a review if you like.