Note: I love revenge fics, and this happened. I'm not sorry at all.
The song who sort of inspired this fic is "You Should See Me In A Crown" by Emil Bulls (or Billie Eilish, if that's more your thing). It's the bomb.
You Should See Me In A Crown
So this was the day.
His wedding day.
Harry took in the crowd; the great hall of Hogwarts was absolutely packed. The robes and dresses of the guests blended together in a sea of pastel colours, as was proper for a spring wedding. The tables and benches had been taken away and some sort of altar had been set up where the teachers usually ate their meals. Beautiful flower arrangements adorned conjured alabaster pillars at the sides and along the walkway for him and his bride, and especially decorative candles floated under the charmed ceiling, giving off mild, sparkling light.
Music started, something dark and furious, and the hundreds of guests stirred. Harry doubted that many of them appreciated the significance of Vivaldi's Storm, if they even recognized it. Most likely they just thought him overly dramatic.
"Behold, dearest assembled, the King Apparent of Avalon, the Earl of Gryffindor and Earl of Slytherin through Conquest, and Heir Apparent to the Earldom of Blackmore, His Majesty Harold James Potter," Dumbledore intoned over the violin. His voice carried easily through the great hall, holding just a touch of a Sonorus to reach everyone. "Please step forward, Your Majesty." He gestured grandly and smiled.
Two burly aurors, loyal to Fudge, of course, accompanied Harry along the aisle to the altar and surreptitiously fixed him in place with no less than four tethering spells. That Harry didn't put up the slightest fuss visibly discomfited them, and his mild, amused smile only added to their unease.
His bridegroom - Ron Weasley, of course - shifted from one foot to the other. His festive robes looked brand new, no doubt paid for by Harry's trust fund, and someone had seen fit to scrub Ron's face so clean that it was a little pink all over.
Can't be seen with dirt on your nose, can you, Weasley?, Harry thought, eyes drifting away from the boy after a long, mellow look. Instead, he looked at the assembled crowd, drawn to a pale blue robe here and a rather high green top hat there.
Hundreds of faces were staring back at Harry in turn, measuring him, searching for a crack in his calm expression. There was Minister Fudge, his squat, pleasant-looking wife beside him. Next to her stood Hogwarts' High Inquisitor, Madam Dolores Umbridge. Even now, she wore bright pink robes and an equally bright pink fascinator. It certainly fascinated people as it had a tiny felt kitten running around the brim and chasing a golden fluff ball. On Fudge's other side stood Lucius Malfoy, smirking as if everything in his world was going just the way he wanted it to go. His wife, Narcissa, had an expression of quiet glee on her normally sneering face. It wasn't hard to guess that she was probably imagining her son as the next Lord Blackmore, now that Harry was going to be King.
The rest of the guests was made up by half the Ministry, most of them known or suspected Death Eaters, the students from fourth year and up, and, naturally, the teachers. Harry's personal guests of honour was the goblin delegation, consisting of Chief Ragnok, the Chief's two advisors, and Harry's account manager Sharptooth.
And the Grangers, bless their hearts. Harry waved at them.
A beaming Emma Granger waved back, while Dan, Hermione's father, nodded. Hermione looked a little serious, but mostly she was excited. Harry recognized it easily by the slight sheen of magic drifting over her skin, even as she smiled widely. She was lovely in her pale lilac petticoat dress and white three inch heels, the white, short robe she was wearing open over the dress her only concession to wizarding fashion. A strand of sweet water pearls adorned her slender neck. She also had pearl studs in her ears and bracelets of silver-edged pearls on both wrists. Hermione outshone all the other girls and women in Harry's eyes, especially with her wild hair curling proudly over her shoulders and down her back, a vast contrast to all the other uptight hair-dos.
Harry smiled back at her, earning himself an annoyed huff from his bridegroom.
"Are you well, Your Majesty?" Dumbledore asked, looking searchingly over the rim of his half moon glasses at Harry. His voice no longer carried over the music, although Harry suspected that people had set up listening charms the moment they'd entered Hogwarts. It wouldn't do to miss anything today, after all.
Harry's smile broadened and he lazily glanced at Dumbledore. "I'm quite well, thank you, headmaster."
He would be married at fifteen, there was no way out, and Harry wouldn't have it any other way.
Dumbledore stared a moment longer, clearly not expecting that answer and barely believing it even as he used legilimency. Why, Harry had no idea. They had him dosed to the gills with calming potions and several doses of compliance enhancing substances, one of which had been dropped into his eyes every night since the marriage contract for him had been signed.
Finally, his song of choice ended, its last notes brushing against his soul in comfort, and another began. His bride's fanfare.
As one, the guests turned to the portal, where a red-headed man appeared, on his arm his daughter.
Harry grinned. There she is.
Despite being dressed in white and carrying a bridal bouquet of pink roses, Ginny Weasley's slight form reminded Harry of a dementor. While she beamed through her tulle veil at her family and the guests, even the ones she hated, she brought a shadow into the castle that would be impossible to chase away.
Once more, Harry looked at Hermione. Her coquettish flirting amused him, just like Ron's elbow in his side.
"You're marrying my sister, stop flirting with my fiancée!" Ron hissed.
"Uhm, nope. I'm pretty sure I didn't have a stag night. I'm due a little fun before I'm shackled to Ginevra," Harry replied with a smirk. When Ron tried to elbow him again, Harry evaded, grabbed the boy's thumb in his hand and bent it backwards without hesitation. "And now stop annoying me, you git. You're ruining everyone's fun."
Ron immediately yowled and sank to the floor, which earned him dirty looks from his whole family.
"Harry," Dumbledore admonished with a tut.
"He started it," Harry said, eyes wide and so innocent that he nearly pulled something.
Molly Weasley looked thunderous, first at Ron and then at Harry. Her oldest son Bill put a hand on her shoulder and murmured something. Gradually, she relaxed, but her pinched face promised retribution.
Not caring about the little drama at all, Ginny and Arthur took their time to reach the altar. There was no flower girl - none of the first years had had any desire to play the part of a five year old, and the Hogwarts house elves had flat out refused as well - and Ginny's train was being carried by Pansy Parkinson of all people.
Harry marvelled at it all.
At last, Arthur placed Ginny's small hand from his elbow in Harry's hand, smiled weakly at him, and then stepped aside to join his furious wife.
The music ebbed away and the following silence was absolute.
"We have gathered here today for a very special occasion," Dumbledore began, the very picture of a wise, old grandfather. He nearly shone with magic in the gentle spring sunlight and the falling sparks from the candles. "Today, we will witness the union of our future King, the King Apparent of Avalon, the Earl of Gryffindor and Earl of Slytherin through Conquest, as well as the Heir Apparent to the Earldom of Blackmore, Harry James Potter ..." Here, the guests began to applaud, which Dumbledore allowed for a few moments before continuing, "and his lovely bride, Ginevra Molly Weasley, daughter of Arthur Weasley and Molly Measley, nee Prewett. Please step forward and kneel before the altar of our Lady Magic ..."
The wedding rite was carried out with all the expected pomp and circumstance. Due to missing romantic feelings on Harry's side, the ritual was a basic one, not that any of the assembled guests had any illusions about a true fairytale wedding. The vow was still binding, though, and the bond to Ginny just as intrusive and unpleasant as Harry had imagined it to be.
At long last, it was over and the magic whirling around them settled back down.
"You may now kiss the bride," Dumbledore proclaimed grandly, his blue eyes twinkling madly.
Harry carefully raised Ginny's veil and took a moment to study her prettily made-up face. Not a freckle was in sight, her brown eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and a coy smile curved her lips.
"Are you going to be shy, now that we're married, Harry?" she asked flirtatiously.
"No. But I don't love you, so ..." He bent forward and gave her cheek an air kiss. "This will have to do."
"Harry!" she cried.
Ginny's outburst set the great hall atwitter, and bawdy laughter made her flush an interesting shade of red. Not even her make-up charms were a match for that heat.
"Now, now, Ginevra," Dumbledore soothed, although his voice held a note of warning. "Love will come with time, as many of us can attest to. Compose yourself, we're not done yet, as you know. Molly, dear, if you would?"
"You're horrible," Ginny hissed at Harry as her mother led her away.
Harry merely shrugged.
"Now that the beautiful part of the day is over, it is finally time to welcome back our long lost King, and it is my very great pleasure as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot to officiate the ceremony." Dumbledore waved his wand and the flowery adornments vanished from the altar. Instead, a cushion with the royal insignia appeared, the precious metal and stones polished to their best advantage. After a moment of reverent admiration, invisible trumpets heralded the beginning of the crowning ceremony.
"Bear witness, good citizens of Great Britain and Ireland, as the embodiment of Arthur Pendragon once more takes his place among us. Bear witness as he ascends the throne. As he will be our ruler in all things, our fortunes lie in his most magical hands. Be welcome, Harry James Potter, King Apparent of Avalon, Earl of Gryffindor and Earl of Slytherin by Conquest, Heir Apparent to the Earldom of Blackmore. Take your place so Lady Magic may judge you. Are you willing to ascend your rightful throne?"
Anticipation welled up in Harry's breast. "I am so willing."
The imperial orb began to glow, signalling its acceptance of the answer, and Dumbledore carefully placed it into Harry's left hand. "And are you willing to do whatever needs to be done to see to the protection and welfare of your people in all of Avalon?"
"I am so willing," Harry said, calmly and clearly.
Now Dumbledore placed Gryffindor's glowing sword into the bend of Harry's right elbow, ensuring that Harry could hold it safely at the heft. The silence in the great hall was deafening. "And are you willing and ready to bring law and order to our most excellent Avalon? Are you willing and ready to pass judgment on your subjects on all matter of disputes? Are you willing and ready to act as a father to your people, to guide and protect and help us better ourselves to meet your Royal standards?"
"I am so willing and ready," Harry said evenly, even as magic stirred in him, powerful and true. As Dumbledore gently placed the brightly glowing crown on his head, the magic began to stream right out of Harry's skin in shimmering waves of every colour.
"Then vow so on your life and magic," Dumbledore said, beard and robes stirring in the heaving magic.
"I, Harry James Potter, vow on my life and magic to give everything that I am to the protection and guidance of my beloved Avalon and my people. So mote it be."
The carefully banked magic broke loose and burned through Harry with a horrifying fury. It burned away all the imperfections and spells and substances that had no place in the King of Avalon.
It went on for minutes, the surge healed and cleansed and built until it was finally done with setting Harry to rights.
"What, no applause for your King?" Harry asked into the silence. "I'd have thought to have someone on the throne who fits the picture would make you happy. Oh well." He shrugged. "Tough audience."
"Your Majesty," Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, you have to acknowledge your Queen now ... if it pleases you." He motioned for Ginny to climb the few stairs.
"It pleases me," Harry said, making Ginny's face light up. It was almost obscene how much pleasure he was about to feel to set her straight. "But not her. I have chosen my Queen, and it is not the woman you forced me to marry. Return to your family for now, Ginevra. We will settle our affairs later. "
"Harry!" she exclaimed in horror. "We will settle them now!"
"It's Your Majesty to you," Harry informed her patiently. "None of you have the right to address me informally."
"How dare you treat my daughter that way!" Molly Weasley shouted. She was as red in the face as Ginny, testament that it was really the Prewett temper that was so frightful. "Albus! You promised!"
"Yes, he did, and we will discuss this, as well." Harry dismissed them both and found Hermione in the shocked-speechless crowd. "Miss Hermione Jean Granger, great-granddaughter of Hector Dagworth-Granger, please join me."
Her father took her hand and accompanied her, her mother trailing half a step behind them.
"Please treat her well, Your Majesty," Dan said as he gently put Hermione's hand in Harry's. Sparks danced over all their fingers.
"You know I will." Harry pulled Hermione up the last step so that she stood beside him. Dan meanwhile stepped back and to his wife's side, who took his hand tightly in hers.
"Your Majesty," Hermione murmured and performed a very pretty curtsy.
"I was always just Harry to you, and I always will be." Harry bowed over her hand and kissed it. "Hermione, would you do me the immeasurable honour of accepting my suit, to join me in magical marriage and in leading Avalon together as equals to the best of our ability?"
Hermione's eyes welled with tears. "Yes, I do," she whispered.
"No!" Ginny screamed, throwing her flowers down and stamping her feet. "He's mine! He married me!"
Not letting go of Hermione's hand, Harry quietly regarded her. Bill had to restrain her physically and the make-up charms were unravelling fast now. Ginny's face was splotchy and the dark colour on her lashes ran down her cheeks, imitating runny muggle make-up.
"Magic made me do it, and you know it, Ginevra," he told her. "I don't love you, and I never will. We might be bound together, but I am your King. It is my Royal Right to take more than one spouse, and to choose my Queen from among them. Your seniority, such as it is, is of no consequence to the House of Avalon."
"It is of consequence!" Ginny howled. "They said you would be mine! They said I would be Queen!"
"They were wrong," Harry said. Yes, it was an extraordinary pleasure indeed to see so many people blanch from the roots of their hair to their toes. "Who thought that the King of Avalon could be subjugated by spells and potions? Who dared assume that the Lord and Lady Magic wouldn't reach out to their champion?"
Dumbledore raised his hands placatingly. "It's a misunderstanding, my boy-"
"It is no such thing. You all conspired to use and abuse me after the goblins insisted on inheritance tests after Voldemort's resurrection last year. Funny how it turned out that I could fire you all for gross incompetence. I couldn't do it then, but I certainly will do it now. You are all fired from your positions, effective immediately." He nodded at Chief Ragnok. "Please halt all payments to the Ministry, and seal everyone's vaults for that long overdue audit, Ragnok."
"Your will be done, Harry," Ragnok replied with a small nod.
"You cannot do this," Lucius Malfoy said haughtily. His voice carried easily.
Arrogant enough to use a Sonorus, Harry thought, amused. Let's see how he likes the consequences of annoying his King.
"Who says that?" Harry inquired politely.
"I'm afraid that would be me," Dumbledore said. He raised his wand and shot a spell at Harry. "Imperius."
A gasp rang through the great hall.
Harry felt the spell slide right off him, not that he wouldn't have been able to shake it off himself. "I had planned to save the unpleasant parts for later, but you don't leave me a choice." Drawing his own wand with lightning reflexes, it was no issue at all to disarm Dumbledore. Hermione caught Dumbledore's wand for him and handed it over with a smile. "Thanks, love."
"Harry, you don't know what you've just done ..."
"Your Majesty," Harry corrected Dumbledore. "And yes, I do. I've stopped your meddling once and for all. You have attacked your King, the King you have crowned just minutes ago, with the intent to subjugate him to your will, possible for the rest of his life. That is treason, Albus, and treason can only ever warrant one punishment."
"Death," Ragnok supplied helpfully, showing rows and rows of sharp, pointy teeth as he grinned. "More specifically, death by the Nation's hand."
"You cost the Nation millions of galleons," Harry said. "You stole from countless orphans and appropriated inheritances of lost families without ever looking for heirs among the mundane-born. Worse, you took gold out of the economy that could have nourished the goblins for decades, had it been allowed to circulate. Your death is my present to the Nation, along with my deepest apologies, and an offer of the renewal of our treaty." Harry bowed.
"The Nation accepts, Your Majesty," Ragnok said, returning the bow. "We shall bind Dumbledore now. Do you still want him here for the rest of your business?"
"I do," Harry said. "I thank you for your patience."
"This day will make for many songs and dances," Ragnok smirked.
"Dobby," Harry called. At once, the house elf appeared. He was livered in the finest fabrics, looking just like a gentleman of the realm ought. "Please bind the headmaster and escort him to our goblin friends."
Dobby nodded eagerly. "Dobby brought the binding irons, King Harry."
"No! Harry! You can't let them kill me! There's so much you don't know! So much that still needs to be done!" Dumbledore screamed as Dobby and three other quietly appearing elves subdued him and snapped the magic suppression irons around his wrists, ankles, and neck. "Please, don't let them do this!"
"You had no compassion for me when I begged you not to marry me off to Ginevra Weasley," Harry said. "You also had no compassion for me when I begged you not to overturn Professor McGonagall's decision not to betrothe Hermione to Ronald Weasley."
"But she is betrothed to me now," Ron shouted, face ruddy with temper. "Is my sister not enough? Do you also have to take my future wife?"
Harry inclined his head. "I'll let Hermione answer that one," he said over the rising din in the hall.
"Thank you, Harry." Hermione glared at Ron. "I never wanted you, Ronald Weasley. You are lazy, boring, foul-tempered, and a racist as well as a speciest. You knew that I'd never accept you, and you didn't care. When the Ministry pushed through that unspeakable law, you jumped at the chance to ruin my life. You're nothing more than a bully and a rapist, and I hope you will burn for eternity in your afterlife."
Mrs. Weasley drew her wand and fired a nasty curse. It harmlessly bounced off an invisible barrier. "You ungrateful girl! I knew that I should have given you potions and had him marry you immediately! Why, my Ron not good enough for you? Just look at yourself, you ugly little thing! The only way our King would have you is if you'd potioned him half to death!"
"If I remember correctly, you already did that to me and I still refuse to make your daughter my Queen," Harry said. "Accept the fact that your two youngest children are thoroughly undesirable as partners and leave it at that before I'll have you thrown into a deep, dark hole under Azkaban." When Hermione nudged him, Harry amended, "That is, before this day is over. That curse you tried to hit my future Queen with earned you thirty years."
"How dare you!" Molly screeched, throwing a whole barrage of curses. All of them bounced off the ward, and a couple of them actually hit bystanders.
"I think they're completely broken," Hermione commented, looking fascinated at the chaos that was starting to break out. The cursed guests broke out in bloody boils and their arms and legs seemed to melt like ice in the sunshine.
"Impedimenta!" Harry called. Magic surged from deep within him, through his wand, and out into the whole of the great hall. At once, the guests stopped their flailing and angry gesturing. There wasn't much anyone could do for the bystanders that had been hit by Molly's curses, one of the twins among them, so he put them in stasis with a sigh. "What a madhouse."
"And you're asking me to help deal with it," Hermione huffed. "Real classy, Potter."
Harry grinned. "And yet you love me."
"Yes, I do." Hermione sighed. "Can we please get on with it? It's only been half an hour and I'm already tired of all that bullshite."
"Of course. Let me just take care of that," he pointed at Ginny who was fuming even in her stunned state. Out loud he said, "In case you don't want to miss the coronation of your Queen, this is the perfect moment to pay attention."
The crowd actually quieted down.
Hermione smirked. "A moment for the history books."
"You know it." Harry brushed kisses over the knuckles of both her hands. "I'm so sorry that there wasn't another way. It could've been so nice."
"Nevermind me, Harry. You suffered the most, but it ends now," Hermione murmured and returned the loving gesture. "I love you."
"And I you." Taking a deep breath, Harry called, "Hear me, people of Avalon. As my marriage to Ginevra Weasley was forced by man and magic, I hereby renounce her as my wife and send her back to her family. As no dowry was paid, no monies shall be returned along with her. As no consideration to me was given, no honour shall be given to the woman who stole me from my one true love."
Ginny struggled against the Impedimenta. "No!" she wailed. "You can't! I'm your wife! You love me! You have to!"
"I don't have to do a damn thing," Harry retorted coolly. "That's what it means to be King, you silly girl. I warned you and you didn't listen. Now you have to bear the consequences of your actions. Don't think that anyone will pity you."
"I certainly won't," Hermione said. "You stole my soulmate from me, Ginevra. That was a wretched thing to do."
"I won't allow it!" Ron shouted, face red and eyes bugging as he fought against the spell. "Hermione's my betrothed! It's the law and not even you can change that, Potter!"
"Oh, right. I'm sorry, love, I forgot for a moment that I wanted to abolish that perversion of law-making as soon as I could. Which I can do now, of course." Harry hoped that his expression let Ron know what an idiot he was being. He then cleared his throat to speak to the masses. "Let it be known that from this moment forth no marriage contract shall be binding when one or both betrothed are unwilling. All contracts for children under the age of seventeen shall also be invalid. So I have spoken, so magic will rule."
"So mote it be," a male voice said from behind them and a huge swell of magic rushed out and away from the altar.
People shrieked and a few actually fainted.
"Malijar," Harry sighed and turned around. "I thought you were too furious with them to attend?"
The tall, dark haired man with a short beard and beautifully tailored robes in white and gold with turquise stitching snorted. "Oh, I am. But my Lady reminded me that I would also miss your wedding, and that would have been such a shame."
"We're glad you came," Hermione said with a smile and a curtsy. "It was just getting good."
"I know." The Lord of Magic grinned and clapped his hands. "Where were you?"
"I abolished the abomination that passed as the new marriage law," Harry said. "You aren't satisfied with your marriage contract, right, Hermione?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I hate Ronald Weasley with the power of a thousand burning stars. I am such an unwilling bride that I'd rather hang myself with barbed wire than spend one minute married to him."
Ron howled in outrage. "Lies!"
"Yeah, sure." Hermione rolled her eyes with exasperation. She began to glow and the marriage contract shimmered into existence before her.
Just before she could touch it to rip it apart, Ron shouted, spittle flying from his lips, "Don't you dare! You're mine! I'll show you your place, you little bitch!"
"You really won't," Malijar told him. "Do it, Hermione. Your friends have already started."
And they had. Among the students, who were miraculously free of the Impedimenta, all the muggle-borns and not a few of the others were ripping up their contracts and shouting with glee. Dolores Umbridge shouted back, demanding that they stop and threatening them with dire consequences.
"You'll have to take care of that one, Your Majesty," Malijar said, crossing his arms over his chest and pointing his chin in Umbridge's direction.
"Oh, I will," Harry assured. "Since she started this whole shit show and all." He turned to Hermione. "Are you ready?"
"She's not!" Ron screamed. "I'll kill her!"
"Go to hell, Ronald," Hermione said and ripped up the parchment before setting the pieces on fire. "I'm really very ready."
"Splendid." Malijar's form shimmered for a moment. When he was solid again, he wore ceremonial robes in pure white adorned with gold thread. The light in the great hall subtly changed from the mild shine of a spring morning to the golden orange of a late afternoon. Sweet, flowery fragrance drifted through the open owl windows and a gentle breeze made the flower decorations rustle. In another swirl of magic, Hermione wore a crown of spring flowers and Harry had a small bouquet pinned to his robe lapel. "My dear, beloved children. I've come to you to unite you in the eternal rite of magical marriage. As I can see into your hearts, souls, and magic, it is my great pleasure to know that you have kept yourself pure for each other. Take your Lady's hands, lad, and hold them tight."
Harry smiled and lovingly curled his fingers around Hermione's soft, capable fingers.
"Harry James Potter, do you vow to enter your bond with Hermione Jane Granger with open eyes and open heart?"
Harry swallowed back the emotion rising in his chest. "I do."
"Do you vow to share your burdens and sorrows with your Lady Wife, and will you share your successes and joy with her in equal measure?" Malijar continued.
"I will," Harry murmured. With every word, the colour of Hermione's whisky brown eyes turned lighter.
"Do you vow to always hold her in the greatest esteem, to value her council and her opinions, and will you do the same for your children?"
Hermione's breath hitched when Harry vowed to do so as well and watched as the Lord of Magic wound a piece of ribbon around his right and her left wrist. A swirl of magic settled over their hands, tying the ribbon without leaving a knot.
"Hermione Jean Granger," Malijar intoned, turning all of his otherwordly attention on her. "My lovely wife told me to let you know that she couldn't have found a better companion for her champion if she'd made you."
"Oh." Hermione lost the fight against the tears and sniffed through her smile. "Thank you very much, Mylord."
"It's only the truth, love." Malijar winked. "Do you vow to enter your bond with Harry James Potter with open eyes and open heart?"
"I do," Hermione said, watery eyes gleaming with magic.
"Do you vow to share your burdens and sorrows with your Lord, and will you share your successes and joy with him in equal measure?"
Hermione smiled and squeezed Harry's fingers. If her eyes were sparking, his were shining from the inside out with so much magic that they glowed. "Of course I will."
"Do you vow to to always hold him in the greatest esteem, to value his council and his opinions, and will you do the same for your children?"
"I do so vow."
Malijar smiled and bound their other wrists as well. Another swirl of magic left no knot behind.
"I can feel you already," Harry whispered.
"Me too," Hermione replied shyly. "You're so lovely."
"My children, a magical marriage is never to be entered lightly and thus I ask again, do you vow to enter your bond with open eyes and open heart?"
"We do."
Malijar took a breath. "Do you vow to respect each other even if your days are dark and the nights too cold to keep warm?"
Harry looked at Hermione and could only see light and magic in her. He hoped she saw the same in him, and that she couldn't imagine ever being parted from him again.
"We do."
"Love is eternal," Malijar said roughly. "It may start small, it may innocently present as friendship, deepening over the years to familial bonds. It also may tear the world asunder with its romantic passion. But no matter its form, it will always be there, in the light and in the darkness, in the beginnings and the endings. As long as you treasure your love, and as long as you allow it to change its shape and grow, you will always know happiness in your marriage. My children, you will not only be man and wife, but King and Queen of Avalon. Not only will you need to love each other, but your people as well. Do you vow to do so for as long as you draw breath?"
Harry and Hermione shared a long look and then said in perfect unison, "We do so vow."
Compared to the forced binding with Ginny, this one was lovely in every respect. Magic gently welled up around Harry and Hermione and flowed into them, reaching in from the earth and streaming again from their crowned heads, filling them with light and a sense of the love they shared. For a moment, they saw not each others' bodies but their souls in all their starlit glory, cradled as they were in Lady Magic's warm, healing embrace and shielded by her Lord's all-powerful shield.
"You are my life," Harry muttered into the stunned silence, studying Hermione with wondering eyes that probably wouldn't ever stop seeing the beauty of her whole being.
"You're my heart," Hermione whispered back.
Drawn together by magic, as well as love, their lips touched in a tender kiss. All was quiet and the moment purely theirs, and it was all the more wonderful for it.
After a suitable pause, Malijar announced, "Behold your King and his Queen, people of Avalon! Behold the beginning of a new age!" He sketched a shallow bow at the teens. "Make me and my Lady proud, children, and never hesitate to call upon us if you are in need of council or my sword."
"How about a stiff drink every now and then?" Harry asked, quirking an eyebrow at the Lord of Magic. "We will all need it."
"Quite regularly, I'm sure," Hermione added.
"We will at that," Malijar agreed and suddenly grinned in a manner so reminiscent of Harry's deceased godfather that the boy's breath caught in his throat. "Now, who of you wants a wedding present?"
Still the hall was as silent as a tomb, every ear pricked to hear what was being said between the new ruling pair and Magic itself.
"You mean you officiating for us wasn't it?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Because that was pretty awesome."
"It was, even if your poor parents seem a little overwhelmed, Hermione," Malijar mused and then grinned again. "As fun as this was, it's time for me to go now ... I'll just leave my present here. Take good care of it, kiddo, it's been rough for him after Dumbledore had him killed."
For a second, Malijar's inner glow brightened to an intense burn, which then dissipated in a slow, rolling wave of magic that touched everyone in the Great Hall, forever marking them and tethering them to the new rule of law. In his wake, a man with dark hair and stubble staggered like a newborn fawn, a soft groan on his lips.
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. "Sirius!" He caught the swaying figure before he collapsed, Hermione on the other side doing her best to steady the surprisingly fit and definitely handsome wedding surprise. "Is that really you?"
"Sure am, kiddo," Sirius rasped. He stared first at Harry and then at Hermione. "My best wishes to your wedding - you managed to snag the most beautiful bride. It's a family gift in the Potter line."
"You old charmer," Hermione scoffed, but her eyes were shiny with tears. "Here, sit down for a spell. We have a few things to do, but then you're coming home with us."
"I am?" Sirius asked hopefully as he was prodded onto the flower-bedecked altar.
Harry glared. "If I have my way, I'll never let you leave my sight again. Getting poisoned by Snape of all things, you should be ashamed of yourself."
"Lily already laid into me for that one," Sirius confessed. "Said that being depressed was no excuse to get careless around that git. And James threatened to disown me if I fucked up this second chance with you."
"The fucking up will end here and now," Harry said, turning to the congregation and measuring everyone with a vengeful eye. "Malijar asked me to be a just king, but being just and getting even aren't mutually exclusive at all."
Most of the adults blanched, again, while a lot of the students cheered.
"All of you who are found to carry the Dark Mark are punished with a hundred and fifty years in Azkaban, as well as the forteiture of no less than half of your family's whole fortune," Harry announced in his ruling voice. Chief Ragnok stirred in excitement, while Dumbledore moaned pitifully. "Magic will reveal you to me." As nearly a hundred people developed a sickly green aura and wails and screams reverberated through the Great Hall, he continued, "The borders of Magical Britain are closed to you, you have nowhere to run. If you are of the opinion that my ruling is unjust, you may appeal it in an audience after turning yourself in. Everyone will get the opportunity to plead their case." His furious eyes then rested on Dolores Umbridge, the woman who had started it all. She shrank away from his glare but found her way blocked by quite a few muggle-born students who had suffered in her detentions. "Rest assured that my Queen and I will deal with all of you in time. You have been touched by the Lord of Magic; don't be stupid enough to try and run from our will. You'll find that magic won't follow your petty commands anymore. So mote it be."
"So mote it be," Hermione repeated, her voice clear and heavy with magic. Her slender fingers linked with Harry's and she easily pulled the cloak of his overwhelming presence around her, just as she cloaked him with hers. "We have earned ourselves a nice, long honeymoon after all this song and dance, but before we leave you to stew for a bit in the dragon shite creek of your own making, let's deal with our biggest headache. If you will, Mylord?"
A nearly feral smile came over Harry's lips. "Oh, I will. I summon you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, to pay obeisance to your King and swear the very first oath of fealty in more than a thousand years ..."
The End