AN: I posted this chapter yesterday. Unfortunately, I had written something about Kingsley in Hermione's diary entry that was racist. That wasn't my intention. Fortunately, a treasured reader pointed it out, explained why it was offensive and I took the decision to take the chapter down until I had a chance to re-write that section. I think the resulting version is a lot better. As a white writer, it's important that I react appropriately. I apologise for any offence that I may have caused, and I promise I'll try as hard as I can to be more sensitive when it comes to writing about black characters. Thank you to that reader for keeping me accountable) xxx
Hermione gets one last chance to apologise to Ron. But will it work?
Thursday 21st November 1996, 11:34 am
Dear Diary,
Well, I'm almost at the end of my first week back at Hogwarts, and it's been quite lonely, actually. Not that I expected everyone to race towards me, accept me back into their folds with open arms, of course. But I'd hoped someone would have noticed that I was gone for two whole weeks, or even tell me they'd missed me.
Aside from Harry, who is now apparently my only friend.
For years I've called this place my home. I was too bookish, too quiet and too serious to fit in at my Muggle junior school, and the bouts of accidental magic didn't help. Hogwarts showed me that I do have somewhere in the world where I can be myself and where there are like-minded people who accept me for who I am (well, some of the students, anyway). But since my disastrous attempts to fix things with Ron over the weekend, I've been wondering whether I should write to my grandmother and ask if it would be better to finish off my studies privately at Ballindalloch Castle.
After all, I didn't do too badly whilst I was stuck there at the start of the month. It was good getting some undivided attention and space to get on with my work. And even though I'm no longer going to be a princess, I bet my grandmother would be pleased to keep me somewhere safe so she can have Kingsley back.
Don't get me wrong, it has gotten a little bit better since the weekend.
After rounds with Ron on Monday night, my metaphorical invisibility cloak slipped a little, and my old friends started to tolerate having me around again. What I'd said to Ron in that empty classroom must have sunk in, because when I joined them for breakfast Tuesday morning, he didn't slam his cutlery onto the table or get up and leave. Of course, he didn't acknowledge me or say anything to me either, but I guess it's a small step in the right direction.
Still, I am trying to keep my distance as much as possible so I don't wind him up anymore. Which means I still spend the majority of my time alone.
There is some light in my dark days—oh Merlin, that sounds morose, doesn't it? If nobody else is around then Harry will come and sit with me. At least we can still fill an hour chatting away, although I still haven't told him that I'll be abdicating the throne at the ball on Saturday. For some reason, I can't force the words out, especially not after Ron's reaction. Harry was never the friend I went to for advice or support. He's rubbish at that sort of thing. Ginny has stopped throwing evil looks my way whenever I appear, too. But it's still incredibly lonely.
It doesn't help that Kingsley is far too imposing for anyone else to want to approach me. He's usually hovering over me, his arms folded across his chest and a permanent scowl on his face like he's always annoyed with me. Add in that he's almost as tall as Hagrid (might be an elaboration), wider than Harry and Ron put together (although that's not hard) and looks like he might snap at any moment, and no wonder nobody else wants to be my friend. In fact, the only time I think I've seen him smile is when he's with my grandmother. Interesting.
I've taken to spending all of my spare time in the library, which I guess is nothing new. I browse the stacks for anything I haven't read that might help me with my revision. My goal is to finish my homework on the day it's assigned, and to make sure my notes are as up to date as possible in preparation for the end of year exams. I know, I know, there's still six months until they start, but it doesn't hurt to do the extra work now. Then, if I ever make friends with Ron, I'll have more free time to make the most of it.
I swear I'll never take him for granted again.
But all this staying away from everyone is boring and it's a good job I'm giving up the crown because the press has nothing interesting to report about me. Soon, I will disappear completely, and I'm looking forward to it. No more partying or sneaking out of the castle if I have nobody to do it with. And with no friends, there'll be no gossip about our fights, or who will be my latest date. Rita Skeeter would be climbing the walls if my grandmother hadn't spoken to her boss and had the witch suspended for irresponsible reporting.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Sorry about that, Harry plonked himself in front of me and asked for help with his potions. I guess it is our rare shared free period together, and I should be working too, rather than writing to you. So I couldn't resist checking over his essay. We haven't had that much time to catch up yet today, anyway, so it's nice having his undivided attention.
I had to resist the urge to ask him where Ron was, though. I don't want to annoy Harry too much. I know how much he hates being stuck between us and I don't want to scare away my only friend.
After sorting him out, I decided to read back what I've already written. UGH. Today's entry is full of wallowing and sadness, and do you know what? I'm fed up with it. No wonder nobody wants to be my friend when I'm miserable all of the time.
Harry even offered me a bite of the Chocolate Frog he'd stolen from Ron's stash in the hope of cheering me up. It must be dire for him to have noticed it, as he's usually oblivious to everything.
Well, no more sulking Hermione. I have loads to look forward to:
* My dad's ball is only two days away
* My grandmother still wants to spend time with me, even though I let her down by abdicating
* Because of all the spare time I now have, I am top of my class and I'm pretty sure I will achieve over 100% in most of my exams this year.
* I am alive and well.
Plus, I have Harry and he's trying his hardest. He's even promised me he'll be there Saturday and he's going to try and coax Ginny along too, so it'll be nice to see him there. I'm nervous about the speech I have to make, even though my grandmother hired the best writer to help me. I don't want to let anyone down. So I'm glad at least Harry and my mum will be there to support me. And Tonks, if Kingsley has paid any attention to my constant pleading to give her her job back.
My grandmother told me my speech will come at the start of the event because I deserve to have some time to unwind and relax. I'm looking forward to partying with the few people who still like me. Although, that might change once the news is out.
Harry keeps on telling me I need to try harder with Ron. But I'm not sure what else I can do….that's it!
Hermione slams her diary shut with a loud thunk and throws an excited smile across the table at her best friend. "Harry, I've worked it out!"
The last bite of his Chocolate Frog is halfway towards his mouth, but Harry freezes anyway, gawking at Hermione across the table.
"Got what?" he asks, before devouring the final morsel.
"You keep on saying that apologising to Ron isn't enough, and I need to show him how sorry I am after everything I did."
"Yeah, and…?"
But she doesn't reply. Instead, she fumbles for her bag under the table, dropping it twice in her haste to put her plan into action. After hauling it onto her lap, she shoves her diary and potions notes inside without care before jumping to her feet. The bench scrapes back, echoing around the hall.
"I'm sorry. I have to go, I don't have a lot of time to do it."
As Hermione hurries toward the top of the room, where Kingsley is enjoying a cup of tea with Professor McGonagall, she's sure Harry mumbles, "So glad you were clear about your intentions. Good luck." But she ignores his complaints, too fixated on her idea to snap out a retort. He'll find out soon enough anyway.
The Head of the Order is deep in conversation, and although Hermione tries to be patient with him, her body buzzes with electricity. She wrings her hands as she clears her throat, shifting from foot to foot with anxiety.
Kingsley takes a mouthful of hot tea before turning his head in search of the disturbance. His eyebrows fly towards his short, red Nigerian-style cap as he takes in her nervous energy. "Yes, Princess?" he asks. "Have you finished your work already? Don't you wish to stay for lunch?"
"Actually." Hermione waits for Professor McGonagall to leave the table before lowering her voice. "I need a favour from you. Do you think we could pop out to Hogsmeade?"
"Why, Hermione?"
"I need to buy Ron something to try and fix our friendship. With the ball coming up, I don't have time to wait for the next weekend trip. Please Kingsley, it's urgent!"
Kingsley's eyes flit to McGonagall's retreating figure before he lets out a heavy sigh. "I could get into a lot of trouble for taking you out of the school, you know."
"Yes, but couldn't we—"
"And I want you to fix your friendship with Ronald. I don't like it when you're sad, Princess. But—"
"I promise I'll behave. And go on more walks with you—"
"But your grandmother sent word for me to pick a specific item up from Schrivenshaft's on my way back to the castle tonight." Kingsley raises his voice, putting an end to Hermione's interruptions. "I guess there's no harm in me popping out now instead of later. We have to get back by Transfiguration at one, though, so no funny business."
"Yes, yes, I don't want to miss the class. Cross my heart I'll behave."
Hermione draws an X over her heart with her pointer finger and gives Kingsley her sweetest smile. It must work, because the Auror sighs again before draining the last of the amber liquid from his cup. He takes his time but eventually, he's on his feet and staring down at her.
"Alright, but quick before someone spots us."
He places his hand on Hermione's shoulder and gives her a gentle nudge towards the Entrance Hall. As they walk past Harry, she lifts her hand in a small wave. In response, he throws a smirk back at her, forcing a giggle from her lips. It's great having someone on her side again, even if they only have limited time together.
⁂
As soon as Kingsley and Hermione step outside of the castle, they're assaulted with the cold bite of late fall. The freezing air steals the breath from Hermione's lungs as she digs in her bag for her hat and scarf, but it's refreshing, bringing clarity to her plans. She knows it'll work this time. The exhilaration of being outside lifts her spirits as she follows her protector out of the grounds.
At least she remembered to pull on her thick robes this morning, although it doesn't do a lot to stave off the chill.
"So tell me about this plan, Hermione," Kingsley says, his voice barely audible over the swirling snow and howling wind. "I would like to know what I'm risking my career over. And the wrath of both Professor McGonagall and Queen Beatrice."
Hermione takes a deep breath and tries her best to arrange her thoughts, even as they fly through her brain like a Chupacabra chasing a goat. "Okay, so Ron likes Chocolate Frogs. Well, he adores any food, but the frogs are his favourites. So much so, he's almost finished collecting the cards which is a pretty mean feat since there are hundreds of them. But the last two left on his list are so rare, that he's often moaned he has no hope of finding them. It doesn't help that we don't even know what they are.
"I thought if we went to Honeydukes, and bought as many Chocolate Frogs as we possibly could, he might have a chance of finding the last two cards and completing his collection."
"And how is that supposed to help fix your broken friendship?"
"Oh." Hermione stops walking, her heart dropping into her stomach in dismay. She was so excited, she hadn't considered whether it would be enough to mend things between them. "Well, I guess I could leave them on his bed with a little note? Half of our troubles are because I've been an awful friend, so maybe I need to show him I do pay attention. Will that be enough?"
A smirk breaks over Kingsley's face, confusing the young witch. "Considering all that you've done?"
"Maybe not." She sighs. "I'm sorry, Kingsley. This wasn't well thought out. I got excited that I may have found a way to get through to him but you're right, I don't think it will work. We should head back and get some lunch."
She turns on her heel and is about to march back to the castle when he grasps hold of her elbow, putting a stop to her retreat. "We're already half-way to Hogsmeade, so we might as well continue with our journey, enjoy our trip. We'll buy the Chocolate Frogs, maybe I'll treat you to lunch on the go. After that, well, I think it's time I showed you something special; something that might help you with your friend. What do you say?"
His cryptic words intrigue Hermione and put a smile on her face. There's no way she can turn his offer down, especially if he's offering to buy her food too.
"Alright. Lead the way!"
⁂
Honeydukes has two hundred Chocolate Frogs in stock, and Hermione purchases all of them. It might be over the top, and she's had to dig deep into the allowance Queen Beatrice sends her once a month to pay for them, but it'll be worth it if it goes some way to thaw the ice between her and Ron.
With the boxes shrunken and secure in the pocket of her robes, she ventures back out onto the cold high street. The bad weather has forced most of the usual shoppers inside, giving Hermione and Kingsley the privacy to continue with their mission without worrying about being spotted or disrupted. Hermione takes a deep breath, letting the sweet smell quell the nervous energy that still buzzes all over her body.
"Got them all?" Kingsley asks Hermione as she steps up next to him.
Patting the small bulge in her pocket, she throws him a smile. "Yep! Every single one. Good job there's not a Hogsmeade trip soon, or everyone at the school will hate me even more."
"They don't hate you, Princess." He checks his watch before holding out his arm for her to take. "We'll have to skip lunch in order to have enough time to reach our next destination, but I need a promise from you before we leave."
"Okay…"
"You're not to tell anyone where we're about to go. It's of utmost importance."
"That sounds ominous."
"Oh, it is. But seeing you happy will be worth it. Ready to apparate with me?"
"Yes, let's go."
Hermione barely has time to wrap her fingers around Kingsley's arm, when he turns on the spot. Hogsmeade spins into black, and she tries to relax into the sensation of not being anywhere. But the yank on her stomach is uncomfortable, and she has a sudden understanding of why Beatrice prefers to use the magical car to travel around.
Turning up and vomiting is not exactly becoming of royalty.
Soon enough, the grey skies appear again. Rain replaces the snow, and hard cobblestones press into the soles of Hermione's feet. She swallows the bitter bile and when she opens her eyes, she spots Winchester Palace staring back at her.
"We're in London?" she asks, as she casts Impervius over the two of them to stop them from getting soaked.
"Yep! Winchester Palace is your grandmother's least favourite out of all her castles. She doesn't stay here often, so the place should be quiet today. Unless the cleaner is in, of course. You'll have to mind the dust."
Hermione rolls her eyes. Queen Beatrice must have such a hard life if she can choose to ignore one of her castles enough for it to get into this state of disrepair. Although Hermione doesn't blame her for not visiting often. Standing outside of the protective charms, all she can see is blackened ruins. And when Kingsley raises his wand to remove the security wards, the revealed building doesn't look much more appealing.
The dark sand coloured stones are stained with pigeon droppings and dirt from the nearby busy road. Gothic gargoyles stretch out their stone wings with a clatter before settling back to sleep, their grimaces enough to scare away even the bravest of intruders. Winchester Palace is miles away from the bright and colourful Ballindalloch Castle.
If she had decided to keep the crown, this would be the first on Hermione's list to sell off. You don't need more than one castle, anyway.
"This place gives me the creeps," Hermione mutters, her cheeks heating as Kingsley chuckles.
"Me too, Princess. We mostly use it for storage nowadays as it seems both the Queen and your father had the same opinion as yours. They detested being here."
"Why doesn't Beatrice get rid of it?"
"Winchester Palace has its uses. If there's a visiting royal from another country, they sometimes like their own space. The proximity to the Ministry comes in handy for anyone on official business. It's smaller than Ballindalloch and Castell Coch, which I guess makes it more appealing but…" Kingsley trails off with a shrug. "Now, are you going to waste what little time we have asking inane questions, or shall we get to the real reason why we're here?"
His bluntness makes Hermione laugh. She'd been worried about spending time with Kingsley, especially given how close she was to Tonks, but once the tough exterior is gone, he's a decent guy. Although he's too fond of Hermione's grandmother for the young witch to trust him entirely.
Their secret mission might help bridge that gap though.
"Alright, I'm ready."
With a nod, he unlocks the front doors with Alohomora. A shiver creeps down Hermione's spine as the hinges creak and groan as if protesting them being there. The foyer is empty, and they pass through it quickly before heading along a series of dusty corridors. Old leaves collect against the walls, dancing in the breeze made by the passing of their feet and billowing robes, but otherwise, there are no signs of life in the palace. It's clear the cleaners haven't been here for a long time.
But as they weave their way around the ground floor, Hermione can see hints of the building's heyday. Under the thick layers of dust and ragged paper ends, the tourmaline walls are adorned with beautiful floral patterns and murals of magical beasts. Cobwebs hang from the gold light fittings, and a wry smile appears on Hermione's face as she realises how much Ron would hate being here. The spiders would terrify him.
The prevalent mould catches in her throat, and Hermione is about to ask if they even bother to clean the palace before visitors show up when Kingsley stops in front of an ornate set of white doors. At least, they used to be white many years ago. A thick layer of grime has turned them yellow. He taps them once with his wand, and grins as they swing open.
One by one, the lights in the ceiling spring to life, revealing rows upon rows of shelves and display cases. It looks like the Room of Requirement when it transforms into the Room of Hidden Things, only a lot more organised and easier to traverse. And it is full of glittering goods, photos and paintings hanging from the ceilings, and jewels as far as the eye can see. The room must be enormous because there are no walls in sight.
The floors, units and ceilings are sparkling clean, and fresh air pours into the room from hidden vents at just the right temperature, creating the perfect atmosphere and forcing Hermione to loosen her thick, woollen robes and pull off her knitted hat.
"What is this place?" Her words fall out of her mouth as she takes a tentative step into the room, glancing at Kingsley to make sure she's allowed.
He smiles in reply. "Plenty of people send your grandmother gifts. And her father, and his father before them. She receives bags full of them every day. Some are trinkets, small gifts that can be donated to her charities or the house-elves as a form of payment. Others are edible, but we have to throw all of them out, just in case they're unsafe. And there are also priceless items, gifts we should keep because to destroy them or get rid of them could cause a political catastrophe. We store them here, where we can keep them safe under preservation charms and make sure they don't go missing.
"Once a month, we send Dedalus here to check on the stock and update the inventory."
"That's amazing." Her eyes scour the countless rows. "But it's so sad they're locked away."
"I agree. Your father had a different plan for them. He wanted to put every item on display in the public areas of the Ministry so they could be enjoyed by everyone. He curated a lot of this collection himself. But after his untimely demise, your grandmother didn't want to see the items. I guess they reminded her too much of Prince Hugo."
It's understandable, yet Hermione can't shake the overwhelming sadness that these stunning items won't ever see the light of day. They're far too beautiful to be shut away. As she makes her way down the first aisle in front of them, she reads a few of the labels. Rocks from the moon, the ashes from a Heliopath (although Hermione rolls her eyes at this one), the golden arrows from Isolt Sayre's Pukwudgie. She could spend hours browsing the room, but why did Kingsley bring her here?
After reading the information on the card under a portrait of Queen Beatrice that looks more like a Muggle hologram than a magical painting, she turns back towards Kingsley. "Whilst all these items are lovely," she says, hesitance laced through her voice. "I still don't know how they will help me fix things with Ron."
Kingsley's grin grows wider. "Follow me."
He leads her down the fifth aisle, and they walk for what feels like forever. Eventually, he stops and peers up at a large golden frame hanging from the ceiling. Inside is a complete collection of Chocolate Frog cards.
The gasp escapes her lips before she even realises what she's looking at. All of the cards Ron already owns are there, and the two that he's missing are pasted to the top, above all the rest of them.
"Ron's missing cards are my grandmother and father?"
Nodding, Kingsley removes the frame from its hooks so Hermione can take a closer look. "The company made five of them in total, and all of them are kept here. Mr Weasley has no hope of finishing his collection since none of them are in public circulation. Even with the entire stock of Honeydukes and Sugar Plum's in your pocket. But I doubt Beatrice will notice if we take one of them to help your plight, especially since she never comes here."
His words almost disappear as she gawks at the picture on her Dad's card. He looks happy, and she wonders if it was taken when he knew her mother.
"Your friend," Kingsley continues, breaking Hermione out of her reverie, "does he take good care of his collection?"
She smiles as she recalls the folder Ron has stowed right at the bottom of his trunk, hidden under layers of protective charms, just in case. "Yes! It surprised me at first because he's so messy otherwise, but I think it's because the cards are truly his, not handed down from one of his brothers."
"That's good enough for me. Let's get it finished."
Whilst Hermione holds the frame, Kingsley taps his wand against the gold wood and withdraws the spare cards stashed behind it before passing them over. When she looks, there are three cards in her hand.
"But Ron's only missing two."
Kingsley hangs the collection back on its hooks and double-checks that it's secure. Smiling at Hermione, he replies, "Well, I thought you'd like your own copy of Prince Hugo's."
Eyes wide, she shifts Beatrice's card to the bottom of the pile and grins at her Dad. He waves back with a massive smile, and the sight of him sends her heart racing. How has she never noticed how similar they look before?
The massive crown on Hugo's head does nothing to flatten the massive bush of curly hair. His cheeks take on the same structure as hers, with a similar spatter of freckles over the bridge of his nose. When Hermione looks closer, she's sure Hugo's two front teeth are bigger than the others. She's more like him than she first thought.
This is the most precious gift she's ever been given. Even though she's been devouring her father's diary since Beatrice passed it over, Hermione still hasn't felt that connection with the late Prince. But the two together makes it like he's in the room with her, and she knows both parts of her dad belong together.
Wiping her eyes, she shifts closer to Kingsley before saying, "Thank you, so much. Not just for the cards, but for looking after me the past week."
"It's my pleasure!" He leads her back out of the cavernous storeroom, the bright lights extinguishing as they leave. "You know, I always thought it was a shame you decided to give up your crown. Your tenacity with Mr Weasley this week, and the fact you don't want to give up are two examples of why I think you'd make a brilliant Princess. That, and how you took your grandmother's telling off with grace and your head held high."
His words steal the air from her lungs. Of course, after overhearing him reprimanding her grandmother the other week, Hermione knew Kingsley was on her side, but there's something reassuring about hearing it first hand. It's a shame other people don't have the same faith in her, though.
"Thank you, Kingsley, but I've already informed my grandmother. The ball is Saturday and the speech is written. I don't think I'm made for royalty."
"It's never too late, Hermione. Now let's get you back before you miss Transfiguration, or someone spots us here! I don't want to have to take back all the nice things we shared."
Thursday 21st November 1996, 08:43 pm
Dear Diary,
Well, the deed is done. This evening, after a frosty dinner in the Great Hall, I waited for Ron, Harry and Ginny to head out for training before sneaking up to the boy's dormitory. Luckily, nobody else was there, giving me time to leave the two hundred Chocolate Frogs on Ron's bed. Most of them I placed on his pillow, but I used some of the boxes to spell out the word 'Sorry' on top of his orange Chudley Cannons blanket.
The two cards to complete his collection are folded under the note I left, secured with a protective charm. I tried to keep it short and didn't pour out my heart since I'd already done that Monday and it hadn't helped.
Here's a copy of the note:
Ron,
I know you want me to leave you alone, but I couldn't resist apologising one last time.
I'm so sorry for how I've acted these past few months. I've been a rubbish friend, especially as you've been so brilliant. You don't deserve the way I've treated you.
Enclosed are the last two Chocolate Frog cards to finish your collection. I know how important this is to you. I can't tell you where I got them from, but I took a few risks to get hold of them. This is not a bribe, but more of a thank you for being there for me, and not only since September, but from the moment you saved me from the troll.
All my love,
Hermione
I hope it's enough, but if it's not, I promise to leave him alone. After all, I want him to have a good life, and to not constantly have to deal with me being an awful person. And if me being out of his life for good makes him happy, then so be it.
Until I remember to write again x