Chapter 6

There had been a flurry of activity on the Isle of Kings for the last eleven days. Guards had arrived. So had gifts and planners, florists and jewelers; designers, seamstresses and so many others who had a part to play in the upcoming coronation. The royal house elves had been quite busy, their unique magic bringing a feeling of joyful anticipation to the preparations. It was in large part due to their rapture in serving their soon-to-be Queen. From the very first moment they met Hermione, they were captivated by her warmth and kindness toward them. Coco and Chaton, the two elves assigned to her personal care, nearly worshipped the young witch. Even the crusty old cook had fallen under her spell and showed it by the incredible chocolate confections he lavished upon her at every turn.

I know how they feel, thought Draco, seated by his heart's desire during a lunch three days before the crowning. He couldn't stop looking at her, try as he may. He'd become even more besotted and knew he'd have to speak with her soon. He watched as she took a sip from her water goblet. Those perfect lips that he'd been so close to only once before. Since coming to the island, he'd learned so much about the girl he used to bully. Like how she didn't care for wine other than champagne and that only on special occasions. In the mornings, she required strong coffee as soon as she was up; two mugs of it actually. She said it helped clear the cobwebs from her mind. He thought that amount of caffeine would do far more than that but for once kept his mouth shut. At least, he'd discovered a partial reason as to why she sometimes seemed on edge. Hermione liked a simple breakfast. Oatmeal sprinkled with nuts found its way often to their table; so did bowls of yogurt with sliced fruit on the side. But her favorite was buttered toast topped with scrambled eggs. For lunch, she preferred soups and salads. Afternoon tea was always welcome. He took note that she usually bypassed the smoked salmon in favor of the cucumber sandwiches. Earl Grey was normally on hand, although she liked peppermint tea, too. Her final cup would always be joined by a lemon scone topped with either fresh apricot jam or lemon curd. Meat was the star of their evening meals, Hermione often requesting dishes that could be served with a gravy. She liked rice more than potatoes, she adored roasted brussel sprouts but despised green beans. At night, she often drank butterbeer; once she startled him by having a finger or two of fire whisky, but he'd found out later that her throat had been a bit sore that day. That was unsurprising, he supposed. With the amount of talking she did, it was a wonder it didn't stay that way. Yet, her many words were never wasted ones, unless she was anxious. The babbling showed up then, but that was the only time. Otherwise, it was a pleasure to listen. He marveled at the way her mind worked as she shared her opinions on topics far and wide. He was surprised at her broad-mindedness and acknowledged to himself that it was an excellent quality for a monarch to have. In short, she was a dream and everything any wizard could hope to have. But did he really stand a chance to win her affections?

He doubted it.

It would have been hard enough if she'd been a normal witch, but for her to be their sovereign…..he huffed, amazed at his own conceit in even considering it. Hearing him, Hermione glanced in his direction, looking at him curiously. He shook his head, so she turned back to an attendant who had asked her a question.

You're an idiot, Malfoy, he said to himself. She could have anyone. Why would she want you?

It was a good question. Several wizards whose lines were just as prestigious and ancient as his had already sent gifts of intention to her. He had been present, watching as she blushed while opening the expensive presents; jewelry mostly, but one young man, an American most likely, had sent her one hundred shares of stock in a technology company. Muggle of course, but when the gift was that costly, most wizards turned a blind eye.

He saw that she kept glancing at him during it all; almost as if she were gauging his response. It's what gave him hope. Insane, unfathomable hope that was driving him crazy. It was what made him think she was softening towards him. Or considering him as a potential…..something. If so, then maybe that meant she'd forgiven him. He recalled Blaise's words when they had first found out she was the lost heir….

"….. things aren't that hopeless. You know how forgiving Gryffindors are. They love lost causes, especially her."

The only way to know for sure would be to say he was sorry, then see how she reacted. The House of Godric were known to be transparent, and Hermione was an honest soul. If it came to it, he could always grovel and beg, he supposed. But every time he thought about doing that very thing, a memory would surface in his mind. One of his father sneering, a cruel chuckle coming from him as he said, "Play the game when you must, Draco, but never forget who you are. Respect belongs to power….and I am not just speaking of the power that comes from a wand, Son. The strength of our line can be found at Gringotts. Money speaks; money commands. It is a force that makes others kneel….others, Draco. Never a Malfoy."

And for a period of time, Draco hadn't. He'd bowed to no one. He'd paraded around Hogwarts like the universe revolved around him. He never considered others, never regretted his actions, never apologized….until the day Blaise, in a rare fit of temper, told him off; first in Italian, then in English, finishing in Italian again. Funny thing was, Blaise never told him what had made him mad; although he later asked, it was always brushed off as perdonato e dimenticato.

Right when it happened, though, Draco hadn't cared what had set him off; he'd been furious and wanted to punch his lights out the good, old-fashioned muggle way. But when he saw Blaise's eyes sparkling with frustration and disappointment, his anger vanished to be replaced with a feeling of…..well, he didn't know what it was exactly. Only that it felt terrible.

It was only later that same evening when he recalled the feeling was shame.

That had been the rebirth of his conscience, long dormant since he'd buried it just like he had the gobstones and play dragons and other childish possessions he thought he'd outgrown when he was a lad of ten. He remembered so clearly making a hole in the ground by their Rowan tree and the twinge of regret he felt as he covered his once-loved treasures with dirt. But he was supposed to be a man now, his father said. Time to put away silly, childish notions and affections. He remembered telling his mother that, too, and how her face crumpled with sadness when he put a stop to her good night kisses. She didn't know he'd cried himself to sleep the first night; the second night also, but by the end of the week, he'd stopped. A hollow emptiness replaced his tears; that emptiness became his constant friend until the day Blaise gave him an earful. That night, the tears came back, surprising him, and in a way, liberating him. The next morning he apologized to his friend, and it was afterwards at breakfast when his heart felt its first twinge of attraction toward a petite brunette who was sitting across the hall from him. A ray of enchanted sunlight was streaming down from the rafters; the beam fell on the space where Hermione sat. He stared, amazed. She looked lit from within, like a heavenly messenger. In that unguarded moment while his feelings were still soft and tender from the watering they'd gotten the night before, he imagined what it would be like if she wasn't muggle born. He could be friends with her. Then his fantasy went on to being more than friends. Walking with her in the hall, carrying her books….if she allowed him, that is; holding her hand, having her cheer for him during quidditch games. Being his girlfriend.

That evening, alone in his bedroom, he chided himself and hated his weakness in imagining those things. But it was too late. The door had been ripped opened and his feelings continued to grow as the years went by until they had passed the borders of fascination and settled into the realm of love.

And there I still live, he mused as he watched Hermione reaching for a roll.

"Here….allow me," he said, handing her the basket, his long arms easily attaining the item.

Once again, she eyed him curiously, but merely said, "Thank you." Then, unable to stop herself, she added, "Aren't we being the gentleman today," her dimples coming out in full force as she teased him.

Draco grinned back and replied, "I can go back to being a tosser if you want."

"No, thank you, I much prefer you this way."

His smile softened to something Hermione had seen a lot of lately. Something she wasn't quite willing to name but that kept her in a state of fluttery excitement. Things were changing between them; she knew it. An emotion was growing steadily into something she'd never expected with the blonde. She wished Blaise could have stayed with them, but he'd had to return to Hogwarts. He'd been a good buffer between them, not that she had to fear Draco being mean anymore. Quite the opposite, actually, although he still had a snarky mouth which she secretly enjoyed. He made her laugh…he also made her flush and feel….. beautiful? Huh. Who would have ever imagined that? The ferret and the bushy-haired know-it-all…..

It was the reason she watched his reaction when she received gifts from her admirers. Did it make him jealous, or did he even care?

He cares, her instincts told her. But so far, he hadn't acted on it other than that one time when she'd thought he was going to kiss her. He'd come so close….shutting her eyes, she replayed the memory in her mind…..his hand tenderly cupping her cheek….his head lowering, his nose almost brushing hers and then…

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, his voice sounding worried.

Hermione immediately opened her eyes. "Oh….I was just…."

"Daydreaming?" he ventured, a decided smirk on his face.

"Remembering," she answered, wondering how well he would react to the truth.

The change in his countenance was immediate. The smirk gave way to an expression of undeniable yearning.

Yes, he definitely cares.

"Hermione…we've got to talk," he said, reaching over to clasp her hand.

She gave his an affectionate squeeze back. "I know."

"You see, the thing is….." he paused, trying to find the right words. "For a long time now, I've been….messed up. Faking things; playing a role, I guess you could say. I didn't mean the things I said….most of the time. I suppose I did mean them at first, but then…something happened. It's difficult to put into words.…." he paused again, scratching the side of his neck. "Crap, this is harder than I thought," he muttered.

Hermione chuckled. "Well, in all fairness, if you're about to say what I think you are….we do have a lot of baggage that others in this situation don't normally have to deal with."

Draco sighed in relief at her understanding. "Exactly."

Hermione waited a few ticks of the clock for him to continue, but apparently he was done and had nothing further to say. She bit her bottom lip. Surely, he wasn't going to leave it at that. Blast her desire to know everything, but she really needed her facts straight and for things to be nailed down before she could go further with this.
"Okay, but I still need to know….to hear you say….I mean, do you consider me as….." she faltered, just as Draco had done. "Yeah, this is hard," she acknowledged, while thinking, Courage, you're a Gryffindor.

Before she could chicken out, she blurted, "Am I to understand you have feelings for me?"

Well, that was rather forward, she supposed, but their ramblings were getting them nowhere and her patience had worn itself out. A blush could be seen on both of their faces immediately following her brazen question. Hermione looked down, unable to face Draco. What if she had misread him?

It would be so humiliating.

He could see her embarrassment and felt ashamed of his own cowardice. So he answered her by doing what he should have done the first time he'd had the chance. Gently lifting her chin with his fingertips, he smiled, willing her to see his true emotions. Then he leaned over and softly, like a silken caress, gave her the sweetest kiss imaginable.

"Yes," he whispered huskily against her lips, "I do have feelings for you."

Hermione swallowed noisily, her heart beating so fast, she thought it was going to explode. "Really?" she squeaked.

He nodded, his nose rubbing against hers. "I do. And I have for a while. I know I was horrible to you. Probably still am at times, if I'm honest. I'm not the nicest person, Hermione. And I acknowledge that. I have no excuse for it, but I can say that I'm sorry, truly sorry, and that I want to change. You make me want to be different. Please say you'll forgive me."

She sighed into his face, her relief palpable. "A month ago, I never would have imagined saying this, but I like you, Draco. A lot. And of course, I forgive you. I never really held unforgiveness toward you, anyhow. It's not my way."

Encouraged by her response, he scooted closer and pulled her toward him, his arms now encircling her frame. She reciprocated, her hands shyly traveling up his chest to wind around his neck.

"I know I have no right to ask, but please don't accept any of those other wizards. At least, not yet. I may not ever be able to make up for what I've done…but I would like the opportunity to try. Please, Hermione. Please let me have a chance with you first."

She gasped when he kissed her again, this one far more confident than the last. For being so young, Draco seemed to know how to convey his deepest emotions through his kiss. It wasn't long before both became lost in the moment, a different type of magic swirling, hovering over them…changing things… changing them, freeing what never should have been bound in the first place, as if their previous animosity had only been hindered attraction that had needed to be set loose. Draco couldn't believe she was letting him hold and kiss her like she was already his; Hermione couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Draco wanted her so desperately.

So caught up in each other, they didn't hear voices outside the door until it opened and an aide walked in. Seeing the princess occupied in a decidedly private moment, he immediately turned his head, apologizing profusely for the intrusion before stating why he had interrupted. "Lord Malfoy insists upon seeing you, Ma'am. I told him you were still at lunch and indisposed, but he demanded an audience immediately."

The door opened further; without waiting to be admitted into her presence, Lucius barged in, getting a glimpse of his son and future sovereign wrapped around each other.

Hermione and Draco, too astonished by his presence to do anything but gawk at him, gave Lucius the time he needed to hide his barely concealed irritation. Taking a deep breath, he attempted a pleasant smile, but Hermione wasn't fooled and Draco certainly wasn't.

However, all he said was, "Ah….so here you are, Draco."

Blaise yawned just as the class was being dismissed. He'd been sleeping rather poorly the past week, missing his roommate far more than he thought he would. Although most of the student body weren't aware of it, Blaise and Draco had been the best of friends ever since their nappy days. Draco was the closest to a brother that Blaise would ever have and he knew the feeling was returned. He missed their conversations, their chess games, their sneaking off to the kitchens in the evenings where the elves, accustomed to their nightly excursions, were always waiting for them with plates of leftover roasted chicken and glasses of ice cold milk.

He had just stood up to head to his next class when he felt a tingling first, then an unusual warmth against his thigh. He looked down, trying to figure out what was causing it when he remembered the charmed coin Hermione had given him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled the galleon out. Sure enough, the gold piece was radiating heat. It read:

bring narcissa to castle….

For a second, Blaise stared at the message in his hand. Then it disappeared, only to be replaced by a new message, this one burning against his palm.

NOW

Wasting no time, he sprung into action. Seeing Potter leaving the room, he called out to him, grabbing his arm as soon as he reached him. Harry immediately stepped back, pulling his arm free, his green eyes filled with questions and a bit of mistrust. He didn't know what to think of the Slytherin who had so quickly gained Hermione's confidence.

Blaise understood his skepticism but didn't have time to worry about that. "Potter, listen. I just received a message from her Highness. There's been some kind of trouble at the castle. I need to go there now. I know you're close to the headmaster. Can you let him know? He requested to be informed whenever I leave due to obligations to the Crown."

Harry immediately tensed up. "What kind of trouble?"

I don't have time for this, thought Blaise. "I'm not sure. Just that the request was urgent."

"Let me come with you."

"Potter, I've got to…"

"Please."

Blaise searched Harry's eyes and saw nothing but concern for his friend.

"Well, come on then. Dumbledore won't like it, but we can explain later. We've got to move quickly."

"Are we going to fly?"

Blaise shook his head. "Too slow. Take my hand."

"What?"

"Now, Potter!"

As soon as Harry did what he asked, they both began spinning.

Blaise must have gotten clearance to keep a portkey hidden on him, thought Harry. Although, it would have been nice to have been told that beforehand.

Shouting against the whirlwind the vortex created, he asked, "Where is the castle located?"

"Off the coast of France. But first we've got to go to Malfoy Manor."

"Why?"

Blaise's face showed the seriousness of the matter, causing Harry to fall silent. "To save a life."

"I'm sorry, your Highness…did you just ask.."

"I did, Lord Malfoy. You already carry a significant burden being on the Board of Governors at Hogwarts; I've also been made to understand that you head several companies that have recently expanded and are now involved in the American and Australian wizarding markets. Is that correct?"

Lucius gave Draco a death glare, but said, "Indeed it is, but.."

"So you are already spread too thin as it is, wouldn't you agree?" Hermione spoke calmly, but had Lucius been paying attention, he would have noticed her hands were shaking. However, he was too enraged at present to notice anything other than his ungrateful son's attempts to out-maneuver him.

"That's why I am asking you, Sir, to pass the appointment on to Draco. It will fulfill your family's role and duty to the crown."

The elder Malfoy's face was a study in suppressed anger. Tension radiated off his person; his jaw was as tight as a drum. No doubt he was gritting his teeth; Hermione, knowing a thing or two about dentistry, wanted to tell him to stop before he cracked a tooth.

Finally, he spat out, "Very well. I will return home to consider it and…" his eyes turned to Draco at the same time a malicious smirk made its way to his face, "…discuss it with Draco's mother."

Hermione felt it when Draco immediately stiffened in response. He'd told her the threat that was hanging over his head; that Narcissa would be the one who would pay for any future rebellion on his part.

"Perhaps it would be best to bring her here, so we could all have a chance to discuss this."

Lucius immediately shut that possibility down. "Your Highness is very gracious, but there are some things that are best left between a husband and his wife when it comes to life-altering decisions. Wouldn't you agree, Son?"

Draco couldn't have answered even if he'd wanted to, but it didn't matter, because Lucius gave one stiff bow to Hermione, then turned around to leave with the guard.

"Hermione…he's going to.." Draco began in a panic as soon as the door shut, but Hermione shushed him with a wave of one hand while the other was rummaging in her robe pocket. "There," she said when she found her coin. Closing her eyes, she pressed her thumb against its face, wandlessly conveying her message.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, his voice still sharp from his very real fear.

"I'm asking for help," she answered. Next, she crouched down to place her hand on the floor. Draco watched, agitated and confused, as she closed her eyes in concentration, her mouth muttering something he couldn't make out. He felt like he was about to jump out of his skin with impatience. They needed to rescue his mother now. Didn't Hermione realize that his father could very well be going home to murder his wife?

Once more he asked, "What are you doing?"

She smiled at him. "Calm down, Draco. I'm helping the best way I can. I learned a lot during my first visit here. The castle has a lot of unique features and is somewhat sentient, rather like Hogwarts. It knows who I am. I just asked it to slow your father down."

He huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. "You call that help? How can a castle do that?"

"How do stairs change direction at Hogwarts? Or walls suddenly appear? Or floors…..hold on to one's feet?"

He stared at her as her words sank in, the panic on his face slowly ebbing away as a grin took its place. "Is that what's happening to my father now?"

She grinned back. "Quite possibly."

He paused, putting the pieces together. "You sent someone to get my mother, didn't you? Was it Blaise?"

She nodded. "And hopefully, I'm giving him enough time to get your mother out of there before your father can get back."

Lucius would have had Draco's hide if he'd known his son had wrangled the family wards to allow Blaise entrance into the manor. He'd done it when they were ten; a tricky piece of magic, but Draco had always been smarter than most people realized. He'd used his mother's wand, as hers was the most receptive to his magic. He hadn't even tried to use his father's. Blaise had been with him when he'd performed the spell; not so much an incantation as it was intention transferred through the wand. The young scion of the Malfoy line had opened the ancient protections to recognize the brother of his heart, but perhaps the ease of his success was due, at least in part, to the family majicks sensing Blaise's deeper connection to their heir. Whatever the case may be, it was done right under his father's nose, which had been a source of great delight to the two naughty boys. Draco's cunning had shown in the fact that the wards had only been compromised in his bedroom. That's where Harry and Blaise now appeared.

"Where are we?" Harry asked as he glanced around the room.

"Draco's suite. It's the only way I can get in." Pulling out his wand, Blaise opened the door and whispered, "Homenum Mater Revelio." Motioning with his hand, he said, "She's this way. Quiet, Potter. We don't want anyone to know we're here."

The two boys cautiously made their way down the hallway, only pausing when they heard a voice from down below.

"What do you mean you don't know? Answer me, elf!"

"Dotty hasn't seen Missus si…since lunchtime, Master. She wanted it served in the gardens."

"Is she there now?"

"Dot…Dotty doesn't know!" the frightened elf stuttered.

The boys heard loud swearing, then a slap followed by pitiful whimpering. Harry's hands clinched, the whites of his knuckles revealing the depth of his anger at the elf's mistreatment. Blaise, however, was more focused on listening to Lucius' footsteps to determine his direction.

"This way," he whispered to Harry. "He's going to the gardens, but Narcissa's in the parlor."

"How do you know?" Harry whispered back, but Blaise didn't answer. Instead, he motioned for him to follow.

Teenage boys are not usually known for quietness and stealth, but the two young wizards showed remarkable skills in that area. Harry, of course, had experience. But Blaise was as crafty as any good Slytherin and was as silent as a sphinx. In short order they made it to the sitting room where Narcissa sat, writing a letter. She startled when she saw the two boys in their Hogwarts uniform but understood when Blaise put his finger to his lips.

"Draco?" she asked in a whisper, her face showing worry.

He shook his head. "You. You need to leave with us."

Her mouth opened in question just before heavy steps were heard coming from the hallway.

"No time, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said, his voice taking on the commanding and urgent tone he got only when there was present danger. "We've got to get you out of here."

She took one look at Blaise; seeing him nod, she took Harry's hand just as Lucius opened the door. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of his wife disappearing with the Zabini lad and…Harry Potter?

Of course. He was the best friend of the princess, wasn't he? How had that fact slipped his mind? Furious, Lucius kicked the side of the table, scattering papers everywhere.

That pretentious little poppet must have sent him; but how?

Lucius couldn't think of a way she could've done it that would've been faster than apparition. Unless…..he recalled how he struggled getting out of the castle…..did she hex me without me knowing?

He thought that unlikely, but then again, he didn't know the full extent of a sovereign's power.

Although….she's not a Sovereign yet, is she?

Still, he should be cautious. At least with her…and for the time being, his son.

I wonder how he gained her favor. Undeserving whelp.

As for Francesca Zabini's boy, he would bear watching, since he obviously had more of his mother in him than Lucius had previously thought.

That left….The Chosen One.

His eyes narrowed in thought as he contemplated the matter. He'd under-estimated the princess, he grudgingly admitted to himself. Perhaps the others, too. But he reminded himself to focus. They were just minor players. The real threat was the boy of prophecy. Take him down and the others would fall in time.

The Dark Lord had been right all along.

The mission to defeat Harry Potter had suddenly become more than just Lord Voldemort's continuing obsession. It was now personal.

And Lucius would find a way to make him pay.

A/N:

Note 1: Some of you may be wondering why Hermione didn't just send the guards to fetch Narcissa, but Blaise had told her about the Malfoy wards during one of their many times together. She knew he could get in where they couldn't. Also, she couldn't have the guards detain Lucius, since he'd said nothing incriminating. Not outwardly, anyway. But of course, she and Draco picked up on the implications.

Note 2: I just realized that you all now know my favorite things to eat. LOL

Note 3: perdonato e dimenticato is supposed to mean forgiven and forgotten. I'm crossing my fingers that it's right.