Chapter 2

The quick scratching of quill upon paper had been the only sound in the Headmistress's room for hours, however, the lone sound did not last any longer than those few hours as the all-encompassing grinding of the gargoyle twisting up towards her office drowned over the scratching.

In all honestly Minerva had been expecting it. She had felt the wards fluctuating some ten minutes prior and with all of her members of staff within Hogwarts, she knew it was only a matter of time before her peace was interrupted.

Her nose took in the earthy smells, pine, grass and something she had never been able to describe but something she had become familiar with years ago.

"Headmistress." The gentleman interrupted her thoughts when the door opened and closed as he dipped and bowed quickly.

"Francis," she greeted casually, not even pulling away from her work, "I thought you'd be ensuring the safe…"

"There was an attack," he said as he walked forward.

Green eyes, laced with worry, flicked up quickly. "Is everyone alright? Arnaga?"

"There were casualties. Arnaga is safe, but, Ranay… is dead."

"I do not understand," Minerva stood.

"During the attack, after Ranay was killed, Arnaga took another host…"

Minerva took a breath and looked at the man who had become one of her greatest allies. They both knew the gravity of the situation.

"Who?"

"…Hermione Granger."

-HG&MM-

Images flicked through her mind.

Air.

Sea.

Land.

It was beautiful.

A hand touched hers. Feminine.

Screams filled her ears as she watched as wizards attacked her people.

Chains.

Hot poker irons.

She tried to catch her breath as another onslaught came.

Dragons surrounding her, kneeling.

Dying.

Faces in greeting.

Hips.

The war.

A hand touched her nose running over scales in kind as she lifted her head to look up into kind green eyes.

People, dragons, her people.

Her people…

Hermione groaned as her eyes began to open, the last vestiges of sleep floating away. God, it felt like lifting weights on her eyelids she thought as she tried to find full consciousness.

She took a deeper breath but winced when pain lanced through the right side of her body and chest. When she finally opened her eyes, confusion filled her as she took in the white walls of St. Mungo's.

She recalled being in Russia and the chaos that had quickly erupted followed by pain. For all intents and purposes she should be dead. Why was she here? St. Mungo's was definitely not Russia.

"You're awake." A soft accented voice came from the other side of the room. She turned towards it carefully, the pain in her shoulder and chest enough to warn her that movement was still a nuisance for the time being.

Niska.

"What… happened?" she spoke with difficulty, her mouth dry.

"Water?" Niska asked gently.

"Please," Hermione stated softly.

Niska walked forward,the door closing behind her. Hermione watched her carefully with a fresh set of eyes. She moved as any normal person would though she had to say the woman held an air of elegance and authority about her.

"Here." Niska turned with the water and waited for a moment.

Hermione tried to sit up but it was long and painful. By the time she had sat up she felt like she had just run a marathon. Niska passed her the water carefully.

"Thank you."

"It is I who should be thanking you."

Hermione frowned but was more concentrated on the delight that was water, slipping down her throat.

"You saved many of my people… and for that I thank you."

"What happened?"

Niska took a breath and looked at her with trepidation. "Perhaps when you are feeling a little stronger…"

"Niska, I'm not in the mood for eggshells. I know you do not know me well but whatever it is you need to tell me, I wish you would just do so."

"I…" Niska looked at Hermione with worry.

-HG&MM-

"How is she?" Minerva's dark robes flurried behind her as she walked through the halls of , her goal, while not in sight, had been in mind since word had found her door late last night.

"Still unconscious but faring well. It seems the transference was successful despite the circumstances," Dorinda spoke as she followed the slightly elder witch.

"Has the council been informed?" A young gentleman on her left spoke, following her also.

"We had a meeting this morning."

"It's barely gone nine, Minerva,." Dorinda chastised.

"Quite. And I doubt the day will finish any time soon." Minerva turned a corner, trying to banish the headache that had begun during her meeting with the council. To say it was a disaster was putting it kindly.

"She has no previous knowledge or training…"

"I am well aware, Peter. It has been reiterated to me on more than one occasion this morning, so I would kindly ask that you refrain, for fear of boring me further. Breakfast has not even past and my patience is already wearing thin. So forgive me for my direct attitude but I would appreciate helpful commentary rather than knowledge I already know," Minerva bit as they came to a stop outside a door which all persons present were keenly aware of what lay inside.

"Forgive me…"

"There is nothing to forgive. All I ask is your help, not hindrance," Minerva sighed.

Peter nodded and with one final look all three of them proceeded to enter.

When they entered, the scene they expected to see was not the one that greeted them. Hermione was awake for a start and no longer in bed but instead gripping a wall with one hand, her back slightly hunched, indicating the pain she was in.

Niska stood in front of her but from what Minerva could tell, it seemed Hermione was fighting her off, and if she knew anything of Niska she knew the woman would be worried sick.

"What on earth are you doing?!" Dorinda scolded, "You are supposed to be in bed…"

"Stay away from me…" Hermione rasped.

Niska tried, "Hermione…"

"Oh, bugger off!" Hermione snapped, pain lacing through her as she felt the burning in her chest.

"W, we… we are just trying to help." Niska tried again.

Hermione felt sweat beading on her forehead and twisted herself so both hands were on the wall for a moment. "Helping me… would be to leave me… alone."

Minerva took this as her cue, "You heard her. Leave us."

Hermione hadn't quite registered who had walked in, save for the healer who had admonished her, but she knew that voice and although her pain and anger were still substantial she felt herself relax somewhat.

"Minerva…" Dorinda said quietly.

Minerva looked at her friend with piercing eyes and soon all three occupants, save for herself and Hermione, had left the room.

The room was quiet for a moment. Nothing but the ticking of the clock and the harsh breaths Hermione was struggling to take. She could feel Hermione's magic crackling beneath the surface of her skin, more pronounced than ever before and now with so much more power and an element of new.

Hermione turned slightly to face her. With the way her gown fell off her shoulders somewhat, Minerva could see the marks Arnaga had upon left her. Something she would call beautiful but a mark she knew Hermione would struggle with for a while.

"I hear you had quite the adventure last night," Minerva commented softly as she walked forwards slowly.

Hermione took a breath and licked her still dry lips as she leant back against the wall. Her right side exploding with pain as her back touched the wall.

The white walls and ceiling did nothing to calm her but still she stared at them, trying to find solace. God, she was in pain.

"Quite," she managed to muster. In all honestly she was still soaking in the information that had just been conveyed to her. Merlin, what a fool she was. Why hadn't she just listened to Ron? If she had, she wouldn't be here right now, she wouldn't have… her. "Forgive me if I'm a little lacking in conversation… I am not exactly in the mood for visitors."

"That is understandable, all things considered."

Hermione didn't respond but tried to move slightly again. She didn't know much about her injury yet as Niska had been the only person she had seen since she had woken up not even an hour ago. She imagined that the pain she felt was due to the mix of magic and potions that had been administered to help with the healing. The pain was simply the feeling of her muscles, and whatever else, knitting themselves back together that was causing her so much discomfort.

Despite her train of thoughts though, it did not take away from the fact that she was in there, she could feel it. While the pain did its job to take most of her focus, she couldn't ignore the full feeling in her mind and the headache that was brewing.

"Why are you here?" Hermione asked, pain lacing her features.

"While your welfare was my main concern, there are other details to be discussed. Would you prefer me to get to the point or pleasantries?" Minerva said softly, unsure as to how Hermione would act.

While they had kept in contact since the war, their correspondence had been few and far between.

"I've never known you to skirt around the truth, why would you begin now?" Hermione stated honestly.

"Touché," Minerva admitted gently. Though the information and reasoning were anything but easy to relay. "If Niska has informed you of everything, then you know that Arnaga was and is England's leader. Queen."

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to forget. But how could she? How could one forget that the weight of a country now lay on their shoulders? "And for that I am sorry. But I am not a queen or leader. So if you've come here to say that there is a way to reverse this process then you are more than welcome to stay. If that is not the case I suggest you leave and inform somebody that I would like to see my husband."

Minerva understood her terseness but she had little time for it. "I'm afraid you cannot…"

"There has to be a way," Hermione cut in.

"There is not. It has already been trialled with little to no success," Minerva persisted. "I am sorr…"

"No, you don't get to come in here with your apologies and platitudes. If she found her way in…"

"Hermione, stop…"

"I can do the research, I can be taught the method, you have…"

"Stop! There isn't a way."

"There must be!"

"There isn't…"

"Why? Explain it to me."

"You're tired-"

"Don't you dare! You have no idea!"

"Hermi…"

"NO!" Hermione's head whipped painfully towards her. "My life has been irrevocably altered! I just got married. I'm supposed to live a normal life with children and research, not leading a country!" Hermione cried, the tears finally falling as she pushed away from the wall. Agonisingly, she made her way towards the window and clambered to open it the mere crack that it would allow. "Have I not already given my country enough? Led them through war, been a pillar of strength when I had nothing to give…" Hermione drifted off. "I am not a leader, Professor."

"Whatever you may think you are, is not necessarily what you have become. There are matters that go far beyond your anger. I am not here to be your friend, Hermione. "

"Then you have absolutely no place here…" Hermione ground out as she tried to cool down.

"You are a queen now…"

"She had no right! I didn't ask for this! I don't want it!"

"But you have it!" Minerva tried to calm the woman, "She saved your life…"

"To save her own!"

"To save yours!" Minerva's voice getting louder by the second. "I know this isn't what you had planned, nor did you ask for it but what she did, gave you a second chance. A chance to move forward with your life, a chance to continue your life with young Mr. Weasley. So before you start trying to exile the very being that saved you, you might want to have a long hard think and actually try to communicate with her."

"Excuse me?" Hermione's eyes widened.

"You can communicate with her. You share an existence…"

"I don't want to hear anymore!"

"Y…"

"Leave!"

Minerva looked at the woman who had gone through so much in so little time. She understood more than she knew but right now she needed for her to see what was at risk.

"I regret to inform you that whether you like it or not, Arnaga is a queen. Now she has been born anew, the dragon council are waiting for her to take her place. Politics and civil war are at play and they will not wait."

Hermione said nothing.

"Arnaga took you as her host in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Against your will. But you forget… you were not the future she had planned either."

-HG&MM-

Minerva flung her coat into the air where it floated and made its way to her closet, her hand running through her hair tiredly as the portraits above her rustled to life.

"You look tired, dear tabby," Albus's voice came gently.

Her feet were nearly at her desk when she looked up into kind blue eyes.

"Tired doesn't even begin to describe my state of being."

"I take it all did not go as smoothly as you would have liked?"

Minerva sighed and took her place at her desk, eyeing her correspondence wearily. She had been out of the office for one day and her desk looked like she'd been gone for months.

"Hermione is refusing to accept Arnaga, which bodes ill as the longer she suppresses her the more painful it will be if she fights back. She wants her removed…"

"Does she know that it is impossible?"

"She has been informed, although she does not understand how or why as of yet. I'm sure she will learn in time. And the council have been jumping down my throat in nearly every way possible."

"Whatever for? You are no more responsible than they are."

Minerva just gave him a look that she knew he would understand. "Placing blame was always the council's strong suit. I doubt it will change anytime soon. And while I want to help, England will have to take care of its own, I cannot do it all… nor would I like to," Minerva muttered as she pulled a letter from a pile, beginning the mammoth job she knew would take most of her evening. Well, what little she had left of it and probably some of her early morning. "How has Hogwarts faired today?" she asked gently.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I believe Filius left you a small rundown of the day and anything of report just to the left of you," Albus gestured to the letter not far from her reach.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly and she began writing. Silence hung in the air for a few moments before words that she knew were coming invaded her ears.

"How is she?"

Green eyes closed. The crackle of the fire that was constantly lit doing nothing to conceal the sigh that left her.

"I do not know…" she confessed quietly.

Because she didn't know. How could she? All day she heard nothing but the roar of voices. Who was responsible? Why had it happened? Who were the people who had attacked? Was Hermione ready? Was Arnaga still fit enough? Why hadn't she been there? Who was to take over if Hermione could not take her place? On and on.

But nobody had asked how either, Hermione or Arnaga were. Not even she had asked. She knew it was an impossible question. Their lives had been shaken to the point of no return. Where they had landed was still unsure.

How could she ask how both were, when she knew the answer already?

"She…"

"Please don't, Albus…"

The portraits rustled around and she knew they were giving her the space she sorely needed but would never admit to. Just as they all knew, that while they could have each given their opinions and asked a millions questions, the only one who dared even utter a word was Albus. Neither portrait wanting to test Minerva's patience or wrath.

Not today.

-HG&MM-

Hermione sat in the bed, the ward having long since become void of all visitors. Ron stopping by in the afternoon had been a great comfort to her. But to her disappointment, she had been informed that he was under the impression that it had just been a mere random attack. He had no knowledge of her current situation and she had been sworn to secrecy.

How could she keep it from him though? He was her husband, her best friend. Yet when he walked in asking how she was, his lips peppering kisses on her face, she'd said nothing. The only words leaving her mouth were ones of reassurance. Lies. Words laced together by people she barely knew.

She tried not to think of the reasons why she was sat here. She tried to avoid the feeling of pressure in her head and the crackling of her magic beneath her fingers, as though somebody had turned on electricity just beneath the surface of her skin, the buzzing and power almost palpable.

It scared her. She was scared.

And not because she had seen things no 27 year old should see, and not because she was dealing with something she didn't understand. Not because a country and a woman she had never met had just landed in her lap. Not because her life was no longer her own.

She was scared because she could. She could. She could lead… even though everything in her had been ready for monotonous and boring.

Days sat at home. Days in the kitchen. Walks that took hours because you had hours to spare. Kisses that bored children and children that stole your years that fell into repetitive routine.

Oh, how she had wanted that. Her beautiful boring.

But as she sat there, the distant footsteps of a healer walking passed her door, cutting through her silence, words she didn't want to admit filled her head.

She could.

-HG&MM-

The next day found Hermione's health much improved. While she could not say she was as easily progressive in her thought process she was glad to not feel blinding pain through her shoulder and chest.

One of the healers had just finished changing her bandages and had left when her door opened to reveal a sunkissed man with auburn hair and a chiselled jaw. Hermione had to admit he was rather handsome.

A frown came over her features as she did not recognise him, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Forgive my intrusion. My name is Francis. I am your second in command. Well, Arnaga's second in command."

Hermione shifted on the side of the bed, "Ah, I see. And you're here because…?"

"To help you, teach you, and prepare you for your place amongst our rulers."

Hermione nodded as she looked at her feet, "And what makes you think that I want to 'take my place'?"

Francis had not moved further than the door upon entering but decided as Hermione fired her question that he would dare get a little closer to her. Maybe it was her standoffish tone or the way she remained completely calm but it reminded him of the woman he knew lay inside of Hermione.

"It has come to my intention that you aren't inclined to share an equal existence with Arnaga."

"Good. So you can get on with your day and I can get on with mine."

"What you are doing is wrong."

Hermione went to move off the bed, but as her toes touched the cold flooring Francis's words made her pause.

"Arnaga is a wonderful woman and what you are doing right now, supressing her, is suffocating her…" He could see the cogs in her head turning as he spoke, "If you went out of your way to save somebody's life would you like to be rewarded by being shoved in a cage, with no one and nothing around you?"

Hermione felt something inside her fall.

"Because if you think pressing her down is going to get rid of her, you are sorely mistaken. You are killing her no doubt, but it will take many, many years till she is nothing more than a shell."

Hermione looked up into eyes she didn't know, but ones that felt so familiar. It was an odd sensation. In one moment she wanted to fling herself at the man, hug him and hold him. And in the next he was just a stranger to her. Deep down she knew the familiarity was because of her new counterpart. He was familiar because of Arnaga.

"Just… talk to her."

Hermione flexed her jaw wanting to run away and yet knowing that she of all people who founded S.P.E.W. should be willing to accept this.

"How?" she said softly.

"Reach inside. Let the walls inside your mind down."

"I don't know how…"

"Yes you do, she knows, so you know too."

Hermione went to open her mouth but stopped as she tried to trust herself and Arnaga.

Closing her eyes she tried not to think of all the things that would change. She tried to push aside the pain of missed birthdays and secrets that would take over. She let go of Ron's kind face and her parents' tears as they watched her take those first new steps into marriage. Instead she allowed calm to fill her mind as she entered the void and forgot about magic and Hogwarts and…

"Hello."

Authors note: As always, I hope you enjoyed!