A Crown of Sacrifice
A/N: I am undertaking the astounding feat of having not one but—get this, two in progress multichapter stories.
This one I've been thinking about for a while, I wanted to write a Game of Thrones-esque vibe. It's set in Medieval times, with a fair amount of language and explicit sexual content.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Harry Potter, its characters, or world nor do I make any profit from this. They are all property of J.K Rowling and her associates.
The searing fire seemed to swallow up the walls of the castle and all that was in its path, as clouds of smoke wisped above into the moonlight.
Lily Potter hurried through the castle doors into the open air, careful to shield herself from the soldiers who ran past her. She coughed feeling the residual smoke in her lungs and she tightened her hold on the bundle in her arms. She could hear the servants screaming, soldiers were shouting orders, and just distantly a mad cackle trilled through the air.
She grimaced and made her way to the forest that surrounded the castle courtyard, and nearly screamed as she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"James." She felt her shoulders sag in relief, recognizing his dark shaggy hair, and fogged up spectacles in the dim light. A few cuts littered his face, she saw a bruise forming on his cheek, but other than that he seemed unharmed.
"Lily…" A hand cupped her cheek, and she pressed her palm over it. "Are you alright?"
She nodded, "I'm alright, but James…" She swallowed thickly. "I couldn't—Voldemort's soldiers, they attacked so quickly and then they set fire to everything…I only managed to escape with…" She shifted her arms, and it was only then that James noticed what she held so carefully.
It took a moment for him to process the tiny baby, and then he nodded, his eyes growing steadfast and determined. Her breathing steadied, and she marveled just how easily he was able to soothe her nerves with a mere look.
"Hermione." He finished for her, shifting the blanket so he could look at the child's face.
Lily nodded, staring down at her as well. She had been fast asleep when the attack had begun. But the shaking of the walls and her mother's cries had awoken the baby and she had not stopped crying till they had escaped the castle.
"Jean and Thomas they wouldn't come, I tried but, they wanted to stay and fight, and Jean, she told me to take Hermione and go. And then the doors were breached, and I couldn't change their mind—"
"It's not your fault, Lily. You know that."
But she wished she had tried harder, done something more.
Thomas and Jean Granger had been strong allies to Gryffindor, and true friends to her and James. But they were also loyal to their home and their last act had been for the protection of their daughter. Hermione would grow up without them, but Lily promised that she would know exactly who her parents were and how much they loved her.
"James, what if they figure out she's missing?"
"He scarcely knew anything. The men he sent tonight were only told to wipe out everything. They'll assume she died in the fire." She heard him shift. "When we return, there will be questions."
"Let them talk." Lily replied, tightening her arms around Hermione, her eyes had not left the sleeping baby's face. "She is merely a child James, and at the very least we owe it to them to protect her."
James said nothing but curled an arm around her shoulders in support.
In the distance, the flames flickered and grew till the stones of the castle could not be seen. Lord and Lady Potter of Gryffindor turned away as the Granger's once proud home burned away. And before they left on their horses, another loud, hysterical cackle rose through the air.
It sent shivers down their spine, Lily felt Hermione stir.
Lily gently shook Hermione awake, watching as the young girl blinked her eyes open.
"Good evening." Voice laced with amusement, she raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "It is funny, I found Harry in the same situation in his bed as well. It is nearly sundown, were you two ever planning on getting up?"
Hermione sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and spoke innocently, "I'm sorry, mother. We must have tired ourselves during lessons."
"That may work on your father, but I am not as readily convinced." Standing from the bed, Lily moved around the room laying out one of Hermione's dresses on the bed and picking out matching shoes. "The guests will be arriving soon dear, we must see to your hair and then you may get ready."
"Must we?"
"Yes." Lily gave her a look, "It is an important day, and we should all look our best."
Hermione reluctantly obliged and took a seat in front of the mirror as Lily began running a brush through her tangled curls.
At age eleven, Hermione Potter was an intelligent, adventurous young girl. Lily and James had both a fondness and a wariness of her boundless curiosity and penchant for trouble, though Lily knew, her son had as much a hand in that, perhaps more.
Ten years ago, when they had brought her to the Gryffindor castle. Her presence remained disclosed to only those that Lily and James most trusted. But it couldn't remain in secrecy forever. Nursemaids, handmaidens, and castle-goers eventually noticed the child and it wasn't long before rumors began about a girl the Potters treated as their own.
Speculation about her birthright and relation to the Potters spread through the castle walls to all of Hogwarts, but as time went on the sensationalism eventually wore off and she was treated and regarded as a Gryffindor in her own right, by most.
"How does this even manage to happen?" Lily asked exasperated, as she attempted to detangle several more knots in Hermione's curls as the girl squirmed.
"Mother! It hurts."
Lily gave her a look. "I should think so, with the state of your hair."
Hermione huffed, "It was not my fault. Harry and Ron wanted to go into the forest today, and they always get lost, so I had to go with them, for their own good. It wasn't my fault the wind was exceedingly harsh today."
"The forest, you say, the one we've expressly forbidden you two from? I suppose that explains the branches." Lily mused. "Nevertheless, you knew of the important anniversary today."
"I know. I'm sorry." Hermione murmured sinking into her chair. Lily set down the brush and began weaving Hermione's hair into a braid. "I don't see why I have to go though."
"It's important child, it marks the decade since Voldemort's defeat. People from all four houses of the kingdom will be attending, even the King himself."
"I'm sure no one will notice my absence and besides we go to them every year."
Lily's hands paused and she looked at her daughter.
Hermione was an exceptionally bright child. She attended and excelled in all the lessons, Lily had been adamant she partake in. Proper customs, needle work, household duties, figures, and writing. In all of these subjects, she was prodigious.
Lily just wished, she also took an interest in them. Instead, her daughter would disappear at the ends of her lessons and be found in the courtyard battling Harry with wooden sticks or aiming a bow. James indulged the habit, claiming there was no harm as it only incensed and motivated Harry more, to someday be good enough to be beat his sister.
Lily did not see it as harmful either, but she noticed Hermione's aversion to ladyship and nobility whether done consciously or not Lily did not know. More than anything, she did not want Hermione to feel as if she did not belong and she did not like her daughters notion that because she was not blood, she was excluded or could not enjoy herself among nobility.
"Ah, but this year is most special because Gryffindor is hosting. And as the ruling family of Gryffindor, every Potter family member must attend, including you. And besides, it is time you learn the proper hosting customs for the head of houses."
"But that is part of Harry's lessons." Hermione's eyes held no malice or envy. "He is the heir. Shouldn't he be the one focused on learning lordship and ruling duties?"
"Harry must also take these lessons yes, and your father and I see to it that he does. But we also have a responsibility for you, and perhaps one day you will be a ruler in your own right, you must also learn these things."
Hermione looked at her, as if she was disbelieving of her words. She was still just a child, and though Lily knew that discussion of these things, blood, customs, and dominion, were vital for Hermione's future, Lily resolved to let her daughter's childhood be just that, a time of innocence and mirth.
It could wait.
She placed a kiss on her forehead, "All done." She said, stepping back and watching as Hermione twirled and admired the long braid that hung down her back. "You look beautiful, Hermione. Now change into your dress and, then come meet your family in the courtyard."
As her mother left, the door shutting behind her, Hermione did as told and changed into her evening clothes.
It wasn't that she didn't enjoy these parties, she liked the music and the dancing and the pretty gowns. What she didn't particularly like, were the many people that attended.
She knew she was not a Potter by blood. When, Hermione had been ready, Lily and James had told her about her parentage, how Thomas and Jean Granger perished in the First War protecting Hermione but that no one could know of this. And that though biologically she was not theirs, they loved her just as they loved their own kin.
Most people around the castle did not bother her, but nobles from other houses were not as used to her presence, and these balls and parties only reminded Hermione of the reality of her parentage.
Focusing on her mother's directives, Hermione made her way out into the hall. The castle was alive with people bustling around, she could already hear the music coming from the large dancing hall and the smell of food wafting in the air from the banquet hall. She made her way towards the main doors where Harry and her parents stood in their formal attire.
Harry grinned when he noticed Hermione, no doubt at the dress she was wearing. It was pretty but not what she was used to being seen in. She rolled her eyes at him, meanwhile her father smiled at her. "Look at you, Hermione."
She beamed and then listened as her mother began to explain that they were going to be greeting their guests as they arrived.
"How many guests will be coming?" Hermione asked, with slight trepidation.
"Most of the noble families from all houses, dear."
Harry groaned as Hermione turned to her father wide-eyed. "Father, will we have to greet all of them?"
Her father hesitated, his eyes straying to his wife. Lily sighed, "I suppose I can't expect you two to stand still for so long."
Hermione and Harry grinned, as their father smiled and said, "At least wait until the King's arrival, and then you two can take your leave. But be back before the feast begins."
"We will." Her and Harry echoed, just as a grand carriage pulled into the castle courtyard.
Hermione straightened and stood next to her mother like the dutiful daughter she was, as they greeted Lord Lovegood and his daughter. They were from Ravenclaw, though not the ruling family. If she recalled correctly, it was the Davies' family that held that title.
More guests began to arrive, some recognizable faces and others' strangers. As introductions were made, often times, people stared and those who knew her already, glossed over her.
Standing next to her family, Hermione could not help but notice that the difference was clear. Her parents were tall, with pale skin and while Harry had their fathers dark tousled hair and their mothers green eyes, Hermione possessed none of those features, with her brown curly hair and freckle dusted golden skin.
"His Majesty, the King."
Flanked by guards and a raven-haired man with a pinched expression, Albus Dumbledore approached them. Hermione stared at the man. She had learned in her history lessons, that after the First War and Voldemort's reign of terror, Dumbledore had become King of Hogwarts and did much to return it to its glory. Managing to unite all four houses was no simple task, and she had heard her parents laud him for that.
"James." Dumbledore smiled as he greeted her father as if speaking to an old friend. "You're looking well. And Harry, my you're growing fast."
She was quite sure Harry, like Hermione, had never met the man but when he turned to her he smiled as if he knew her. "And you must be Hermione."
She curtsied. "Yes, your Majesty."
"Your parents tell me you like to read."
She was surprised by that and peeked a glance at her parents. They had never mentioned being close to the king, enough to even discuss their children's interests with him.
"I do."
Being so near to him, she took in his appearance. He was of old age, with a long white beard and glasses perched on his nose, but his expression and his twinkling eyes were youthful. A balance of charisma and wisdom.
Her eyes were drawn to the crown on his head, antique but elegant, there was a red jewel in its centerpiece, Gryffindor red, and though she could not make out the inscriptions, they looked like ancient runes. The golden hue of it seemed to glow, and she could feel the pulse of it, as if it itself was living.
"Fascinating isn't it?" Dumbledore looked at her knowingly. "The magic is almost palatable."
"Magic?" She exchanged a look with Harry, eyes full of shock and wonder.
"Indeed, many years ago when the founders created the great land of Hogwarts, they also made this crown, instilling an arcane magic into it so that it could decide it's ruler itself every half century." Dumbledore looked at her impressed, "Not many can sense that magic, however."
The raven haired man by his side, motioned towards the doors that led into the castle and with a wink, Dumbledore disappeared through the doors. The other man cast a glance at them, her father nodded, and her mother, offered a small smile. "Severus."
"James, Lily." He drawled, and then followed Dumbledore inside.
Hermione was still struck by her conversation with the King, and peered up at her mother and father, but before she could ask, Harry grabbed her arm and began pulling her away. "Be back before dinner!" Their mother called.
Harry yelled back an affirmative and then cringed when he noticed the sour look Hermione was giving him. "I know, but they can still answer your questions later."
"Magic, Harry. I didn't even think it existed anymore."
"I know, my master told me that practicing magic died out many years ago."
"The witches and wizards perhaps, but apparently not magical items. How do you suppose the magic in the crown picks someone?"
Harry shrugged, "It's magic, maybe we're not meant to understand its workings."
He let go of her arm and she realized that he had led them near the stables in the courtyard. With a grin he threw her a challenging glance, "We have some time before dinner. Shall we have a rematch?"
Hermione hesitated, she knew she owed Harry another round of sword dueling after she had beat him that morning. "Now?"
"Why not? Unless you're scared."
She rolled her eyes. If anything, she was afraid she'd ruin her dress. "I'm not scared. Fine, we shall duel. But we need a judge."
"That's easy."
Fifteen minutes later, she, Harry, and Ronald Weasley were preparing for the rematch. Her and Harry were choosing their respective swords as Ron prepared to act as the third party umpire.
Ronald Weasley was the son of the steward. The three of them often spent time together, running around the castle up to mischief. She could tell he held a slight infatuation for her, but she chose to ignore it. He often got on her nerves, and she preferred that they remain simply friends.
"If I were you I'd be prepared to lose." She teased Harry, as she drew her sword. It was thin and blunt at the end like his, their parents didn't let them use the real ones.
He scoffed getting into starting position just like their father had taught them. "You'll regret those words, Hermione."
"We'll see."
She struck first deciding on taking an offensive tactic. Predictably, Harry blocked her swings and they both grinned as they began to parry off each other. They were children, nowhere near the level of expertise they had seen knights and soldiers possess. It was all in good fun, and when Hermione finally got the upper hand, sending Harry's sword cluttering away, he grinned at her good naturedly.
"And once again, Hermione wins leaving the running total six to nil." Ron snickered, as Harry shoved him, and Hermione took an exaggerated bow.
The three of them did not notice the audience watching them until a voice spoke with a cruel tone. "That was entertaining."
By the shade of a large oak tree, stood Draco Malfoy. Instantly, Hermione felt tension thicken in the air as Harry straightened and glared at him and Ron scowled.
She and Harry had met the Malfoy heir a handful of times before at parties. Like the Potters, Draco's family was the ruling family of their house; Slytherin. There was bad blood between them, something that had happened during the First War, but Hermione did not ask what nor did she care. She found Draco Malfoy an arrogant and nasty person and that was all she needed to know.
"But Potter, that was pathetic even for you. Bested by a mere girl..." His silver eyes drifted to her, and she was impressed how he managed to convey both disgust and indifference simultaneously. "And she's the fake Potter child to boot."
"Shut up Malfoy and leave us alone."
"Now why would I do that when I could stay and watch you make a debacle out of yourself?"
Hermione felt the need to defend her brother. "As if you could do any better." She snapped. "Your poncy arse probably can't even hold a sword right."
He suddenly looked very angry. His face twisted into an ugly sneer, and he took a step towards them. "You dare even speak to me? Tell me, who exactly are you? A bastard child, or a ward the Potter's took pity on? I can't even decide what's worse."
"Insulting my lineage is old and unoriginal, Malfoy. Perhaps you should show for your words."
"Hermione—" Harry said unsurely but she ignored him.
"What, duel you?" Hesitance slipped through Malfoy's haughty persona.
"Yes." She did everything in power to keep her expression nonchalant as she eyed him. "Unless you're too scared—"
He did not hesitate after that, and they were taken aback when he unsheathed his sword confidently. Coming to a stop a few feet in front of her, he assessed her carefully, and Hermione could sense that he possessed some intelligence the way his eyes bore into hers.
A cruel smirk grew on his lips. "I'm going to enjoy besting you. Perhaps I'll have you grovel at my feet once you've surrendered."
She saw red and took the first swing. At his look of self-satisfaction, she realized she had done what he wanted and for a moment she wondered if she made a mistake and underestimated him. His sword was sharper than hers, and he fought much differently than Harry, more precise and confident.
Thankfully, Hermione was a quick learner. His left hand the one he wielded his sword with, made his left side open for attack often, and it was there that his defense was thin. She targeted that weakness, making his movements waver, and forcing him to take a couple steps back. She was sure she was close to disarming him, when his foot caught on a rock, and he stumbled backwards onto the ground.
Harry and Ron burst out laughing and Hermione grinned triumphantly.
She had never seen someone's skin turn so red so quickly. Malfoy was practically shaking in outrage. She took it a step further and lowered her sword towards his neck.
"Shall I make you grovel?"
More laughter erupted.
He didn't say anything, and she decided to take pity on him. It was over, she had won. But she should have known, Malfoy would never allow such a thing to happen. While one hand still clutched his sword, the other one made a fistful of dirt from the ground.
It only took a moment for him to fling it at her eyes, blinding her and leaving her defenseless. The swing of his sword cut across her cheek, deep and stinging.
She heard both Harry and Ron yell in outrage. She rubbed fiercely at her eyes until she could see again. Malfoy had dropped his sword and was staring at her with a smug expression on his face. She felt Harry move her hand away from her cheek, and what he and Ron saw made them flinch.
Ron's expression grew furious, and Hermione realized what was going to happen.
"You slimy son of a bitch!"
"Ron, no!"
Harry tried to stop him, but Ron moved quickly and threw a hard punch at Malfoy's face, sending the blonde to the ground.
Ron managed to get a few more hits in before Harry restrained him and attempted to calm him down. Hermione watched as Malfoy calmly picked himself up and dusted his clothes. Then he looked at Ron with a calm sort of hatred.
"You're going to pay for that."
And despite the fact that Ron had been defending her, that Malfoy had been the one to instigate it all, they knew that Malfoy was right.
Draco Malfoy was the son of the rulers of Slytherin and Ron Weasley, the son of a steward, had hit him.
All of them broke out into a run, back to the castle, looking for their respective parents. Hermione and Harry ran through the main doors, losing sight of Malfoy among the crowds of people.
"There!" Harry pointed at the doors of the banquet hall where there their mother stood smiling and directing people inside to begin dinner. They pushed towards her and began a barrage of rushed statements.
"It wasn't his fault! He was just defending me—"
"It was only a punch—"
Lily's eyes widened at her children and then she noticed Hermione's cut and her expression grew thunderous.
"What happened?" Her eyes were narrowed, and they had never heard her take that tone before.
Hermione swallowed thickly, as Lily grasped her face to examine her injury carefully. "Ron—"
"The Weasley boy did this?"
"No!" Harry exclaimed. "It was Malfoy. And Ron hit him back for it."
Lily's eyes shut for a moment, they couldn't tell whether from frustration or some other emotion. "Before anything else, let me to tend to the cut."
"We have to do something Mother. Malfoy went to go tell his parents, Ron might get in trouble…" Hermione quieted at the look her mother sent her.
"Harry, go find your father. Hermione come with me."
Hermione followed her mother silently, as they hurriedly made their way into the kitchens passing the cooks and servants. Hermione felt as if she was in trouble as Lily did not say a word as she dabbed at Hermione's cheek and applied a salve, though that thunderous expression remained.
She watched her mother carefully. "Are you angry?"
A beat passed and then Lily's face softened. "Not at you."
"At Draco?"
"A number of things." Her mother sighed at the question in Hermione's eyes. "I should have done more to counsel you, protect you. The world is a harsh place, especially for a woman. You have to be more careful, Hermione."
"But I was careful. The only reason he managed to hurt me was because he cheated."
"Did he?"
Hermione stared at her affronted. "Yes. He flung dirt in my eyes—"
"And was there a rule that stated one could not use such tactics?"
Hermione's retort died on her lips. "No." She finally muttered. "But it was a vile thing to do."
"Exactly." Her mother rested her hands on Hermione's shoulders and stared into her eyes. "In this world they will disregard rules even if they exist. They will do dishonorable things, unfair things, vile things, and you must know this. You must be careful, and if I am not there you must protect yourself, always. Promise me Hermione."
"I promise, Mother."
"And there is no need for you to be sword fighting other boys, understand?"
Hermione made to protest but stopped at her mother's expression. "Yes, Mother."
Lily straightened. "Now let's go meet your father."
When they exited the kitchen doors into the hall, her father and Harry were not far from them. Hermione realized that her father looked supremely frustrated as he neared them.
"The Malfoy's approached me only a few moments ago." He said stiffly. "Apparently, their son, Harry, Hermione, and Ronald Weasley were sword fighting. Draco nicked Hermione, and before he could apologize, Ronald assaulted him."
"That's not true!" Hermione cried.
"A load of bollocks!" Harry snapped.
"Then what really happened?" James demanded.
"It was my fault." Hermione confessed. "It's true, we were sword fighting. And then Malfoy approached us and starting insulting Harry and I, so I challenged him to a duel. I beat him, but then he distracted me and cut me with his sword—and Ron only defended me! It was just a couple of punches."
Her father's expression remained the same. "So, it's true he hit him?"
What Hermione suspected would happen, was happening and she felt powerless. "Yes but—"
"That's all that needs to be said."
"Father please—"
"Lord and Lady Potter."
Hermione felt her mother wrap a hand on her arm and pull her back as the Malfoy family approached. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy looked just as regal and pompous as Hermione remembered from the previous year's anniversary they had hosted. Next to them was their son, who was playing the contrite and chastened act perfectly.
"It's a very unfortunate situation we find ourselves in, but I trust you are handling it well." Lucius eyed her father as if he believed the very opposite.
"I've spoken to the children, Lord Malfoy. Based on what I've heard it was merely a children's fight."
"My son was assaulted." Narcissa countered, clutching her son as if he was going to fall over at any moment.
"His wound will heal." Lily said. "What of my Hermione? She will carry the scar your son gave her, her whole life."
"It was an accident, I swear." Malfoy cried.
Narcissa soothed him and nodded. "Once he realized what happened, he was going to apologize but before he could, the servant attacked him."
"Nevertheless, we will make it right." Lucius said, with a glare to his son. "Apologize Draco, now."
Malfoy turned to look at Hermione, his eyes focusing somewhere between her forehead and nose. "I am truly sorry for what happened."
In return, she glared fiercely at him.
"He will be disciplined later, but we are well within our rights to demand retribution for what the servant did." Lucius said.
"He's just a boy." Her father's voice was reluctant but held a tinge of firmness.
"A servant boy who's forgotten his place and attacked the heir of Slytherin's ruling family." Lucius's eyes grew vicious. "I could have the boy killed, but I won't. A whipping will do, or something along those lines. You can decide."
And with that, the Malfoys left. Hermione watched their retreating figures, her anger rising tenfold when Draco turned and sent her an inconspicuous smile. Since he could not hurt Harry or herself, he had focused his revenge on Ron.
She heard her father call for a servant, to send word to Ron's father to bring him to the courtyard and she could not bear it. She tore from her parents side, ignoring the calls of her name. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she didn't stop running until her lungs burned and she was gasping for breath. She realized she had reached the opposite side of the castle overlooking the forest.
She sat at the top of the steps that led outside, arms resting on her knees and cried. She wasn't sure how long she was there like that, but she was aware that it was well into the night.
When she heard footsteps approaching behind her, she did not startle, keeping quiet as her father took a seat next to her.
"Are you planning on coming to bed anytime soon?"
She turned away from him.
"Harry is upset too, but at least he's not punishing himself. Come on, you're tired and it's cold out here."
"Did it happen?" She asked quietly.
He remained silent for a long moment and then, "Yes."
She felt sick.
"You believed us when we told you what happened, didn't you?"
"I did."
"Then why did you still let Ron be punished?"
A sympathetic smile grew on his lips. "You're so intelligent that I sometimes forget you're still just a child."
She looked away angrily.
"But you will someday learn, Hermione that it's important to pick your battles. The truth of the matter is that we live in a world where people like Malfoy, people like you hold more power."
"I'm nothing like them." Her tone was acidic.
"Your station in life is the same, that is undeniable. And as soon as the Weasley boy decided to lay a hand on the Malfoy's son, regardless of what the latter boy did, he would face repercussions."
"But—"
"But he didn't deserve it? That is the world we live in, Hermione. There is injustice, there is inequality. People commit immoral deeds without a second thought, take advantage of their loved ones. I'm sorry but you will see this, and you will have to learn that although we should strive to change and be better sometimes we have to…"
"Let it happen?"
"If I had refused Lucius Malfoy, out of pure spite he would have had the boy killed."
"You could have protected him."
"Yes, I suppose I could have used our soldiers and taken up arms to protect the boy, but not only would that have escalated the situation and cost lives but also been a direct insult to Lucius Malfoy."
"Why do we even need Lucius Malfoy's precious approval?"
Her father shifted, his expression falling and looking as if he aged years simply thinking about the answer to that. "House politics." He finally said but she knew that was not the entire answer.
"Father?"
"Whispers, Hermione. Nothing more. But if those rumors are true it means that we need to keep Slytherin allied to us no matter what."
Her brows furrowed in confusion as she wondered what exactly his words meant but she knew even if she asked, she would have little luck getting further answers.
"I don't envy Harry." She suddenly said realizing that he too would one day be facing the dilemmas their parents faced.
Her father laughed. "And why do you assume you're exempt? You will also be a ruler in charge of your people, like your mother is."
Her mother had echoed that same sentiment earlier to her, and Hermione frowned letting her chin rest on her drawn up knees.
"People have killed themselves over a little bit of power and you sulk over it."
Hermione scowled. "Well, from what I've seen, it sounds like they made a massive mistake."
He shifted, his tone weary. "I admit it's not easy. You carry responsibility for your people with a constant target on your back. There will be times where you will have to make sacrifices, compromise your morals."
"Like today?"
"Yes."
She looked at her father genuinely curious. "Then what good is it?"
"The people, Hermione." He looked at her and Hermione straightened at what she saw in his eyes. "We have the ability to do good for so many people, to protect and prosper not only ourselves but Gryffindor and all its people. And a good ruler will always remember that. No matter the cost, as long as it's for the good of the people."
