Chapter 8

Hermione's head spun as she awoke, the sickly smell of Narcissa's favourite perfume churning her stomach. She opened her eyes and was assaulted with bright sunlight, far past the usual early morning, and her ears were graced by a light humming, serene and soothing. Narcissa appeared to be sorting several trunks of clothing on the far side of the room, carefully unfolding, observing and refolding each item. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and blinked several times, forcing her eyes to acclimate to the light. She sat herself up and continued to observe the matriarch as she hummed her way through a selection of blouses. It was a particularly surprising sight when the door swung open and Draco dragged in another large trunk, a most surprising sight considering the rules of Narcissa's wing.

'Hermione.' He choked out, startled, before quickly averting his gaze, turning this way and that several times and quickly vacating the room.

Hermione could only laugh.

'He's just startled dear.' Narcissa smiled. 'It's impolite to be entering the room without your permission, you'll have to excuse me for that, but all the more impolite to see said unknowing occupant in their underthings.'

Hermione blushed a little and quickly scrambled out of bed, pulling a dressing gown tightly around herself.

'I hope you'll excuse the intrusion of both my son and myself. I wanted to get things ready for you but your taking ill last night had me worried and I didn't want to wander too far in case you needed help.' Narcissa didn't take her eyes off of the clothing she was sorting, not even to flick the new one open with her wand. 'His access this far into my wing will be rescinded as soon as you're back to health. I simply needed someone to fetch things and our house elves were busy.'

'It seemed to me like you wanted to keep him occupied.' Hermione shrugged, gently pacing her way over to the horde Narcissa was collecting. 'After all you could have summoned them without so much as a breath.'

Narcissa smiled again, this time taking her eyes off of the garment she held. 'He doesn't need to know that.'

Hermione found a space to sit that wasn't occupied by a pile of clothing and took in the staggering sight. Clearly the trunks had extension charms on them because they certainly shouldn't have held the wealth of clothing that was piling high.

'Is there a particular reason you're turning the room into a boutique?' Hermione narrowed her eyes.

'I am compiling a wardrobe appropriate for your suspected station.' She stated.

Hermione choked on the breath she was drawing in.

'While your wardrobe is yours to do as you please with in private, anything vaguely public will have to be carefully planned out and within the appropriate style of the season.' Narcissa ceased her folding and unfolding and turned her full attention to Hermione. 'I'm currently going through some clothes of mine when I was your age. Fashion in the muggle world may turn quickly, but here in the Wizarding World, we're a lot slower with our changing tastes. It helps that there are less aspiring designers trying to innovate the new style before the current has even had time to begin its trend.'

Hermione nodded, though she was incredibly alarmed. 'So I really do have something to do with the Stuart Clause?' she gulped. 'I'm not certain that any of this will turn out very well if that's the case.'

'Everything will be perfectly fine, Hermione.' Narcissa patted Hermione's hand. 'You will have more than enough time to read up on the politics, history and etiquette you'll need to successfully reign over Magical Britain.'

'I wasn't aware there was a time limit on all of this.' Hermione's eyes widened, her throat instantly drying up.

'My husband has undoubtedly relayed the information gathered last night to the rest of the Wizengamot and begun an investigation into the identity of the student you described.' Narcissa spoke plainly. 'No doubt Dumbledore also knows about the Stuart Clause, what happened in the chambers back in November but also, has his suspicions about who performed that ritual. He'll keep the information far away from my husband but there are somethings you'll need to be prepared for.

'While within the wards around my home, no one will be able to use any form of tracking owl or spell to find out who you are or where you are, simply based on the knowledge of your station. The moment you step out into the wider world, you will be found. Perhaps not instantly, but the attempts will most certainly have been begun bearing fruit. This means we have until the end of next week to have you at least cursorily prepared to function as a member of the Elite. More importantly you need in depth knowledge of your family magic, how and when to use it, and be prepared to demonstrate when questioned.' Narcissa took Hermione's hands tighter, her tone becoming all the more serious. 'You entered my home an anomaly but we now have ten days to turn you into a Monarch.'

Hermione shook her head, struggling to process all of the information Narcissa had very speedily thrown at her. 'So long as most of it is in books I can read at least one every day, two if some are short.' she shrugged. 'I have an impeccable memory.'

Narcissa let out a sharp breath and frowned. 'I suppose that will have to do but as for the magic, we do have a slight hiccup.' She glanced around nervously for a moment. 'You'll need a test subject.'

'I'm not particularly enthusiastic about testing anything on animals, or house elves for that matter.' Hermione returned her frown. 'I flat out refuse.'

'You don't need to worry about the elves or other lowly creatures of the earth.' Narcissa shook her head. 'The test subject we will be requiring is a human one. A wizard to be exact.'

Hermione gulped. 'What exactly am I going to be doing to them?' She asked nervously.

Narcissa took another breath, her shoulders dropping. 'You'll be stripping them of their magic.'

...

Hermione had exploded in a fit of fury and had begun all out war with Narcissa over the matter. No she would not be taking anyone's magic away. No, not even to be sure that their theory was correct. Most certainly not because they arbitrarily decided someone deserved it. This was a birthright they were talking about, not a disease or ailment. The very makeup of someone's being, the very foundation of who they were, would not and could not be stripped away to satisfy a curiosity. It was wrong. Fundamentally wrong. Unethical at that. Surely there would be a law against it, some form of criminal punishment would await her should she do it, and rightly so.

But then a small voice began to awaken in her. If she really was the next Monarch, the use of these powers wouldn't be restricted, because only she would have them. It could be used in moderation, in the direst of circumstances, reserved only as the most extreme of punishments for the abhorrent and unjust. While her morals said otherwise, there truly were people who did not deserve the magic they were twisting. Voldemort instantly came to mind, as did his favourite Leftenant Bellatrix Lestrange. There truly were people who, if magic was taken away from them, could be prevented from committing further atrocity. And without their magic the world truly would become just that little better of a place.

As she began to calm, and their argument came to a halt, a quiet squeak pulled Hermione out of her thoughts and immediately to the spot under the dresser it had originated from. She didn't think, purely running on instinct, she threw a powerful Stupefy under the piece of furniture. It jumped violently and the still body of a man appeared beneath it. Hermione rushed over, hauled the piece of furniture away and stared down at the face of a man she hadn't seen in nearly two years.

Peter Pettigrew was in her bedroom.

Narcissa was frozen in shock, clutching her chest, her breaths ragged and quick.

'How long have men been able to enter this wing?' Hermione asked, keeping her tone as calm as she could muster.

'F-five hours.' Narcissa strangled out. 'I first allowed Draco in at nine.'

Hermione's mind began flashing at lightning speed. That was certainly enough time for Pettigrew to find his way into her room, recognise her and report back to his master. More than enough time to have gone back and forth again and again, ferrying snippets of Draco and Narcissa's conversations with him. Had they talked about last night while he was here? Did Voldemort already know who she was, where she was, and that she was now the biggest obstacle between him and ultimate power? No, she thought. He couldn't know because she wouldn't be alive. That meant Peter Pettigrew, regardless of how long ago he entered the room, hadn't left yet. He was not their exposer, but he was a time bomb. If he woke up, able to use magic, he would be gone.

'Can you close off the wing without him or Draco being expelled from it?' Hermione asked, pacing back and forth before Pettigrew's body.

'Yes, I can. But they'd both be trapped inside. The ward is a line that cannot be passed by the excluded party.' Narcissa stammered out.

'Close it off now. We don't have much time until he wakes.' Hermione ordered, spinning her attention to the man. 'We also need a way to keep him from turning into a rat again.'

'Those wards were placed on this wing years ago.' Narcissa waved her hand. 'They don't force an animagus back into their physical form but you cannot change into an animal at will. That way any animagus who snuck inside with unsavoury intentions could not escape the same way he entered.'

'Obviously people never thought of jumping out of windows.' Hermione muttered, lifting Pettigrew with her wand and placing him in the wooden chair in front of her desk. She summoned ropes to tightly bind him, keeping his arms as firmly apart as she could manage. He wouldn't be summoning his master any time soon.

'I know you're not a fan of the idea...' Narcissa began, gently stepping toward their prisoner. 'But we need someone to test your family magic on. I believe we have a candidate.'

Hermione took a deep breath and let out a low, pained sigh. 'It would prevent him from causing trouble.'

'He is also a mass murderer if that soothes your conscience.' Narcissa smiled a little.

'It does a little honestly.' She nodded. 'We could turn him into the ministry, clear Sirius' name and not have to worry about him escaping before the trial.'

'There is one little problem with that dear,' Narcissa grimaced. 'The ministry isn't a fan of holding muggles.'

Hermione shrugged. 'He wouldn't be a muggle, not really.' She chuckled to herself. 'He'd have just suddenly become a squib, and we know the ministry allows them inside the building.'

'Shall we wake him up?' Narcissa asked. 'It would be useful to know when he's due back.'

Hermione nodded, and watched as Narcissa drew her wand and woke Pettigrew up with a start.

His eyes darted around wildly, his nose twitching as if he were still in his animagus form. It must have been from being one for 13 years straight. When he eventually pulled against his binds, realised they were there, and realised who was standing before him, he eventually stilled. Well, stilled as much as a very fidgety man could.

'I didn't mean any intrusion.' He sneered. 'I was just curious about a new wing of the home. Investigating it. We couldn't have anything sinister inside, now could we.' His voice was the grating whine Hermione remembered. He was a vile man, and his voice matched.

'Hello again Peter, wish it could have been under better circumstances.' Hermione smiled, drawing his attention away from Narcissa.

'Oh, the kind girl. The nice kind girl.' He snivelled toward her. 'You wouldn't do anything terrible would you. You were so brave, so just, so kind.'

Hermione quickly cut him off with a sharp sigh. 'Did he send you?'

'I wouldn't know who he is.' He whined. 'I've just been hiding here since the night at your school so long ago.'

'Enough with the snivelling.' Hermione sighed. 'I know you murdered Cedric Diggory this summer, I know you were carrying around your little dark lord like a baby for a year before that, and we all know you're a spineless traitor.'

'I'm no traitor.' He shook his head violently. 'I was just scared. Scared to die.' His shaking became more and more violent as he spoke. 'Everyone's afraid to die. Everyone would understand. Everyone would, I know it.'

'We understand, but understanding doesn't breed forgiveness.' Hermione spoke cooly, brandishing her wand before the man. He pulled back at the sight of it.

'Now I'm going to ask you some questions very politely and if you answer them, you don't have to discover just how bad some second year spells can hurt.' Hermione smiled.

Pettigrew nodded.

'Good.' Hermione lowered her wand and took a step forward, towering before the cowering man. 'How long have you been spying on this wing?'

'Not long. Not long at all.' He whined. 'I got very lost in that library and when I found my way out the ward was gone. I'd been in there for hours and hours, I couldn't remember which direction was which anymore.'

'Maybe answer the questions without all of the backstory, Peter.' Narcissa admonished.

'Yes, yes. Of course.' He dropped his head low. It was very clear that so long as the smallest glimpse of fear was in this man, he became eager to please. It was rather sad.

'Did your master send you?' Hermione asked next, holding a firm gaze on Pettigrew, one he desperately tried to avoid.

'No, no. I wasn't sent.' He assured her. 'He dismissed me during the meeting. Dismissed me hours and hours ago but they keep going and going from sunup to sun down.'

It was also clear he was terrible at following instructions.

'When does he expect you back?'

'Oh not for many days. Not when he's angry. When he's angry and sends you away, and you come back before he calls, he tortures. He tortures for such a long long time.'

'Do you ever leave the Manor when he's angry with you?'

'Only sometimes. I sometimes go to my old home and wait for them to come back and talk about secrets but they never come. They haven't been back for months and months.'

Hermione immediately understood, though Narcissa didn't. He was frequenting visits to the Burrow, visits that luckily would be stopping very soon.

'Thank you for answering my questions, Peter.' Hermione smiled. 'I have one last thing for you to do for me, and then we'll take you somewhere safe. Somewhere your master can't be angry with you anymore.'

'Anything you ask. Anything. Anything.'

Hermione had done a lot of practice with summoning family magic. It had never worked but she knew how to prepare her mind, how to focus it, and how to call on the magic within her. She didn't need to be coached through it as Narcissa likely suspected. She simply focused inward, Pettigrew firm in her mind as he shivered in his chair, and gave a simple instruction.

Take it all way.