Chapter 8

Hermione sighed for the fifth time. She knew, because she'd counted it. Twisting her head to look at the clock, it said 2:30. Four more hours before her normal wake up time, but it didn't matter. She knew herself well enough to know sleep would be elusive. Once her mind got going, it always refused to shut back down. Wearily rising from the bed, she shuffled into her house shoes, or baffies as they were called at Hogwarts, and slipped out of her room.
Maybe a glass of milk and a biscuit would help, she thought, remembering how her adoptive parents would always give her a snack right before bedtime. As she wandered down the hallway, she couldn't help but reflect on how quiet the castle was. Not a sound could be heard except the distant crashing of the waves or a muffled jingle from the chime room. In the night sky, the Milky Way was in full display, causing Hermione to pause at one of the windows to gaze at its splendor. What did the stars care of her upcoming coronation? The heavens housed their nightly court; their kingdom was the universe; compared to them, she was nothing.

Feeling small and humbled, she hurried on toward the kitchens, but slowed down when she noticed a light coming from the room Draco occupied. Was he awake at this hour? She knocked softly at his door in case he was asleep. Perhaps he had merely dozed off with a light on. However, she heard a muffled, "Enter."

Opening the door, she saw that Draco looked just as tired as she felt. He was sitting up in bed; his hair was sticking up in every direction; even the shadows under his eyes looked puffy.

"Couldn't sleep?" she ventured.

"Bad dreams," he admitted, looking away.

She shivered and not just from the draftiness of the hall; she didn't want to imagine what his nightmares might contain. She would much rather speculate on how it would feel to be held by him, especially since he was shirtless at the moment. Hermione stared at the taut lines and muscles of his chest and arms. Thankfully, the horrible burns he'd recently received had not left scars, although his father had probably spelled it that way. Wanting his wrongdoing to stay hidden, she thought contemptuously. Still, she was glad there were no physical reminders of his torture.

He's gained weight since he was injured, she thought approvingly. Draco really was good-looking. She continued to gaze at his body, admiring the view, a slight smile on her face. Then it dawned on her that she'd been standing there ogling him. She hastily looked up to see the object of her admiration smirking.

"Like what you see?"

Her face flushed with mortification.

Draco apparently didn't mind her leering as he gave her a saucy wink while laughing. "Am I why you can't sleep?"

She decided to ignore his teasing. "No. I can't quit thinking about tomorrow…er, today, I mean."

He nodded. "It's going to be a big day. You're going to be exhausted if you don't get some rest, you know."

"Yeah….I was going to get something to eat to see if that might help. Do you want me to bring you back anything?"

He shook his head. "I have a better idea. Come here," he instructed, pulling back the covers and patting the spot on the bed beside him. "Jump in."

She stared at the space beside him, visibly gulping. "I…I don't know," she stammered.

"I'm not going to attack you, if that's what you're worried about," he said, a touch of his old asperity showing.

Hermione reddened even more, shuffling from foot to foot. Could she feel any more embarrassed?

Watching her discomfiture, the corners of Draco's mouth twitched upward. "Relax, Granger. I said I'll behave. This time, anyway."

That seemed to help. Playfully narrowing her eyes, she chided, "You better," before climbing up beside him. Once there, she nudged him with her elbow. "Don't be a prat while I'm asleep and do…"

"Do what?"

"I don't know. Something to gloat about later, I suppose."

"Good grief, witch. I may be a git, but I'm not a monster. Calm down, will you?"

Wanting the last word, Hermione tossed her hair behind her and ordered, "Oh, shut up and hold me."

That Draco willingly did, but not before calling her a bossy wench. When he heard her giggle in reply, he pulled her soft body close to his. It wasn't long before he felt her relax, her muscles going limp. A few minutes later, her breathing evened out. Despite her nerves, she'd fallen asleep…..in his arms. Feeling proud that his presence was all it had taken for her to let go, he kissed her cheek and closed his eyes. Before he knew it, sleep had claimed him, too.

"Draco?"

The sleeping blonde stirred at the voice calling his name. "Hmm?" he hummed, his eyes still closed. He wished whoever it was would go away.

"Draco, wake up!" the voice insisted. He blearily opened one eye to see his mother hovering over him.

"Draco, what is the meaning of this?" she whispered, gesturing at the bed.

He suddenly remembered he was not alone. Sure enough, Hermione was still cuddled up against him, her head resting on his chest.

"She was wound up last night…couldn't sleep. So I told her to sleep with me. It worked."

Narcissa huffed, clearly displeased. "Draco, she's not like a regular witch. You can't treat her like one. She's your Sovereign and for you to bed her just before her coronation is…." she shook her head, visibly upset. "I thought you were hoping for something of a lasting nature with her, but this…..do you not respect her at all?"

Draco's face flushed with resentment. Why did everyone always think the worst of him? Even his Mother. "All we did was sleep. She needed her rest to be able to get through today. I was thinking of her…..and if that's not respectful, I don't know what is!" his voice became louder the further along he went until he practically shouted the last bit. That woke up Hermione.

"Ugh…..why are you yelling?" she yawned before stretching and nearly knocking his head with her arm. Opening her eyes, she saw the irate face of Draco's mother looking down on them. She blinked once….twice….then the reality of what she was seeing hit her. She immediately began to stammer out an excuse. "Uh…..I….I know what this must look like, but it wasn't like that. I couldn't sleep. I saw a light….Draco was awake from having a dream. I know I shouldn't have…..but I was so tired….."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Granger," Draco said, interrupting her. Giving his mother a hard look, he added, "And neither did I."

Narcissa pursed her lips but said nothing more. "Your Highness, it's time for you to begin your preparations. I'll be waiting for you in your chambers." As she made ready to leave the room, she turned around.

"Draco, you need to prepare as well. Your father will be here in a couple of hours. We must be ready."

After she had shut the door, Hermione sat up. "Cripes….of all the people who could have found us in your bed….your mother had to be the worst."

Draco snorted. "I'm sure Weasley would have been more violent."

Hermione cracked a rueful grin. "Maybe so….but he has nothing to do with our future. Your mother does."

Draco's expression lit up at the word future. "Tell me more of this hypothetical future you see both of us in."

"Don't tease me. This is serious. Do you think she's really mad at me?"

Draco shook his head. "No. She was upset with me. She thought I had taken advantage of you."

"Your own mother thought that?"

He took her hand that was resting on his stomach. "I'm not worried about her….well, not too much. I'm more concerned about you and what you think. I'm not a cad, Hermione. I wouldn't force myself on any witch…..even though my mother thinks I'm capable," he finished bitterly.
Hermione bit her lip, thinking. "You know…..I believe that was her fear talking."

Draco cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…..I think she might have been afraid you were showing some characteristics of your father. I don't mean to upset you, but it's easy to imagine he's forced many a thing on your mum. I'm sure that's affected her. Don't take it personally, but maybe some part of her is scared the apple won't fall far from the tree."

He bristled. "That's insulting."

"That's human. It would be completely natural for her to fear it. But don't worry; just let it go. Your mother loves you. It's very apparent."

He shrugged. "Okay. Fine. As long as you believe me."

Hermione surprised him by giving him a kiss. "There may have been a time before when I wouldn't have, but I do now. I promise. Now, I've got to scoot. Got to look my best today and Merlin knows, that's going to be a major undertaking for all the stylists waiting for me."

He laughed. "I like the way you look now."

"What? Me all crumpled-looking with wild hair?"

"No….you with my sheets around you. With your hair matted down on one side where my head rested against it. With your left cheek red from lying on my chest. " He sighed theatrically. "Even though you probably drooled on me."

"Draco!" she laughed, lightly slapping his chest, "I did not." Then she added, a shy smile gracing her face, "Do you really mean it?"

He nodded, taking her hand and holding it to his chest. "I do….because in my mind, that's how it should be. You and me. I want that, Hermione. I'll only ever want you. I'm sure of it."

She gazed into his eyes. Eyes that were clear of deceit.

"We're going to get there, Granger. One day. Just you wait and see."

She nodded while thinking, And maybe sooner than you think.

Hermione looked into the mirror. She barely recognized herself.

"There now….you look stunning," Narcissa said approvingly.

"You…..don't think the dress is too much, do you?"

"No, dear. Not at all. Remember, you are being crowned Her Majesty, Empress of Wizarding Europe. No one's expecting you to wear your Hogwarts uniform."

Hermione chuckled but still looked doubtful as she gazed at herself in the full length mirror. She wouldn't have recognized herself if it had not been for the thick mane of curly hair tumbling down her back. Her coronation robes were of the finest quality satin, the color a purple so dark it almost looked black. The bodice of the gown was encrusted with crystals and amethysts. She looked striking. Formidable. Powerful.

"Is this really me?" she whispered to her reflection. "I look so, so…"

"I think you look maestoso," said a masculine voice at the door. Hermione twirled around to see a smiling Blaise ornately dressed in the traditional robes of the royal court. "Ma'am," he bowed.

"Blaise!" she cried out, overjoyed at seeing her friend. Moving as quickly as her dress would allow, she hurried over to where he stood and gave him a big hug. "I've missed you so much. And Draco has been beside himself."

"I doubt that," he quipped. "He's probably been too busy wooing you to miss me."

"Your Highness, you're going to wrinkle your robes!" Narcissa whined, fretting that her work would be in vain.

"Oh…yes, of course," she said, hastily smoothing down her dress.

"I guess that's my cue to leave. We can talk later," Blaise said.

"Be sure to speak to Draco before the service starts, or he'll be pouting the entire evening."

Blaise winked at Hermione before shutting the door, parting with a closing sally, "And don't think I haven't noticed how you're putting him first in your thoughts now….but I'll rag you about it later."

Hermione made a shooing motion, even though she had a big smile on her face. "Go away, Pest."

After he was gone, Narcissa took her hands. "Are you ready?"

Hermione sighed. "I guess I have to be."

The older witch nodded. "Good. Now, take a deep breath. It's time to go."

Harry glanced over at Ron as they took their seat in the magnificent auditorium where the coronation was being held. At the very front of the chamber was the throne that would be Hermione's. Beside it, to the left was the lesser throne of the Consort. Harry could guess who would eventually occupy that seat. But he hadn't said a word to Ron. He watched as his friend looked around at the splendor of the palace.

"It seems weird that this all belongs to 'Mione," he whispered.

"Not to me," Harry countered. "And once you see her, it won't to you, either."

"What do you mean? Has she changed?"

Harry pondered Ron's question. "No….I think it's more that I see the real her now." Seeing Ron's look of confusion, he added, "I think you and I are both guilty of pigeon-holing Hermione. We viewed her only as the swotty muggleborn with a good heart."

Ron huffed. "Well, that's because that's what she is…er, was."

Harry shook his head. "No, actually that's my point. That's what we saw her as….but she's so much more. She always has been. Face it, Mate….neither of us appreciated her as much as we should have."

"Hmph. Well, I'll see."

Yeah…..you sure will, thought Harry. He glanced over at the other side of the congregation, noticing the young men sitting there, some of them having been guests at the castle when he'd arrived that day with Narcissa. They were all dressed in their finery, rich robes denoting their rank and titles within the wizarding world. Harry knew they were hopeful Hermione would choose one of them today as her consort. He inwardly smirked, recalling their futile attempts to gain her favor, not knowing the Queen had already been captured by a move no one had seen coming.

It would seem Ron would not be the only one to get a rude awakening this evening.

When it was the appointed hour, an intense, inexplicable hush filled the assembly hall. Every member of the audience suddenly felt their skin erupting in tingling shivers. The strange yew tree within the courtyard that grew flowers instead of cones began to move as if a strong storm were lashing against its limbs, but in reality, the evening was actually quite fine and clear, the wind unusually still. Still, the ancient, gnarled tree creaked against a strength that was making its presence known.

An unearthly, invisible essence had descended upon the island.

The power of pure magic had arrived.

Those in attendance felt their heart rate increase; their breaths came fast. The massive doors swung open to allow Magic's destined queen to take her rightful place before they closed back, shutting in all who were there. The ringing sound of wind chimes from the music chamber began a processional triumph for its new monarch. Hermione walked slowly, regally down the aisle, her head high. The purity of her magic was on full display, beautiful glimmers of light spiraling about her. Although she was treading lightly up the carpeted path, the people there felt each step she took as if the ground were shaking from a dinosaur's march. Those closest to the aisle fell to their knees in obeisance, their head bowed in respect to the greatness passing by them. Harry chanced a glance at Ron; his eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open in utter shock. Harry didn't blame him; he felt the same way. Even though he'd faced the darkest lord the wizarding world had produced in centuries, Voldemort's power was nothing compared to what he was feeling now.

Three rows ahead of Harry and Ron, Lucius Malfoy was feeling much the same way. But instead of it producing a repentance or humility within the wizard, he fumed, his twisted heart rebelling against it. He had always believed there was no power greater than the might of the Malfoy fortune, but his magic was right then telling him otherwise. He rejected its message, despising the thought that there could be something greater than him in the world.

Standing on the dais, Blaise watched as the French priest led Hermione up the steps to anoint her with the red myrrhe that had been blessed. He marveled at the strength of the man in being able to stand in front of Hermione. His own knees were knocking; it was taking all of his efforts to appear calm, when all he wanted to do was hide under a chair. He'd never felt such power before. Goosebumps were all over his body. It was similar to the experience he'd had when he first visited the island but magnified by a power of ten. From where he stood, he could see Draco and his mother. Blaise smiled at the expression on their faces; one of pure love, the other of helpless wonder. He glanced at the consort's throne and tried to imagine Draco sitting there. In spite of his trembling, a silly grin spread across his face. He saw Draco looking at him oddly; realizing the cause, he hastily controlled his features to once again show a dignified respect.

Before he knew it, Hermione had ascended to her throne, the scepter and orb in her hands.

As the priest raised the crown for all to see, he spoke the benediction. "Thus begins the reign of her Royal Majesty. May her blessings be multiplied; may our devotion be strong and may our love forever more guard and cherish OUR QUEEN."

Then he lowered his arms and placed the crown on her head. The audience gasped when at that exact moment the wind gusted, the giant doors to the hall slamming apart to allow entrance for one more; the invisible guest who had waited until the right moment to join.

It was time for Magic to give its blessing.

A flurry of yew blossoms flew in and swirled above the heads of everyone there before gliding down to carpet the aisle. A pulsing heaviness pushed in; this time far stronger than the might felt during the queen's processional. Even to the congregation of witches and wizards who were used to the power of magic, it felt like an eerie, unnatural weight that had many shaking in fear. It rolled through the auditorium until it came to Hermione sitting on the throne. It paused before dispersing into a million points of light, the sharp diamond-like luminosities wafting down upon her like a mantle of moving flame. The audience held its collective breath, waiting to see what happened next. They gasped again, some even whimpering, when the robe of fire sunk down into Hermione's skin and was absorbed by her body.

"A sorceress!" a terrified member of the audience cried out.

Their Queen had begun to glow, her eyes looking like a living fire within.

"Your Grace," the priest bowed low, knowing exactly what had happened. Elemental magic had found her worthy.

Hermione, not having sensed or felt what the others had, frowned. She'd heard what the older wizard said….a sorceress. Were people now….scared of her? Her eyes wandered to the rows in front. She saw Lucius looking shaken and wary….Ronald looked like he was about to faint and even Harry appeared to be alarmed. What was wrong with everyone? Hadn't they ever seen a coronation before? Glancing to the side, she was relieved to see Blaise looking somewhat normal, even though she knew him well enough to tell something had rattled him. Still, she'd never been more grateful for the Slytherin ability to hide one's feelings. Finally, she looked at Draco and his mother. Narcissa was looking down, so it was impossible to guess what she was feeling, but Draco was looking at her full in the face, his expression showing no signs of fear but plenty of…love. Hermione knew it was true; there was no point in pretending it wasn't. She swallowed, remembering Mrs. Zabini's parting words. Thinking of the woman, she turned to see if she could find her in the crowd.

There she is, she thought to herself when she found the witch in question. Unlike most others, Francesca was grinning at her, no trace of trepidation showing whatsoever. The woman was unflappable. Hermione sighed in relief and grinned back before she remembered what she was to do next.

"Your Majesty, by right and by rule, you may now invoke the gift bestowed to each Sovereign." Turning to address the crowd, the priest proclaimed, "Our Queen will now select her choice of the Three Cs."

Two of the palace guards moved in position.

"Your Majesty, speak your choice. What is your preference?"

Taking a deep breath, she said, "I choose the C of Consort."

The row of titled young wizards near the front sat up straight, a couple of them unconsciously smoothing down the hair on the back of their necks.

"Blimey…a consort? 'Mione's going to pick her husband?" whispered Ron to Harry.

"Looks like," Harry whispered back.

"But….but we haven't even dated yet," he murmured. "Harry….I'm not ready to be married. Even if it's to a queen!"

Harry said nothing. Ron would find out soon enough. Best to let him be.

"And who is the subject of your choice?" asked the priest.

Hermione swallowed nervously; she didn't dare look at Draco. Instead, she took a quick glance at Mrs. Zabini, seeing her raise her eyebrows in expectation.

She spoke breathlessly, hurriedly. She didn't want her cowardice to stop her.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Exclamations filled the room at that proclamation. Draco froze, his expression showing an almost comical mixture of stunned surprise and relief while Blaise's face broke out in a wreath of smiles. Harry looked resigned while Ron's face screwed up with instant anger and disgust. The guards moved over to where Draco was sitting. Escorting him on both sides, they led him up to where Hermione was sitting on her throne. He stood before her, astounded and unbelieving that what he'd wanted for so long was actually happening to him. Being raised by Lucius Malfoy, he'd long abandoned the idea of a happily ever after. Yet that was exactly what he was being given.

The priest motioned for him to kneel; he did so, looking up at the girl he had first tormented, then later, loved, his countenance showing the full measure of his adoration. There was no more need to hide now. Hermione smiled, trying to reassure him as she gently placed a crown of gold on his head.

"My Consort," she whispered.

"I love you," he replied with fervor, his tone worshipful.

The raw emotion in Draco's eyes was producing tears in hers. He loved her more than she realized.

Do I love him? she asked herself. Truthfully, she didn't know. What she did know was that they were too young for this. Too young to be betrothed, which is what they were now. Too young to rule, too. However, despite those obstacles, she had a good feeling about the decision she made. Somehow, it would work out. They would just have to do the best they could.

After he was back on his feet, she reached out for his arm as she stood. Then they both turned to face their audience.

The priest raised his voice and declared, "Their Royal Majesties, the Empress and Emperor Consort, Queen Hermione and Prince Consort Draco."

Together, they walked down the aisle arm-in-arm, both crowned, both destined for rule.

And both bound for trouble, though they did not know it.

Once they were out of the great hall, Draco rushed Hermione over to a nearby chamber normally reserved for visiting dignitaries. Feeling like he surely must be in a dream, he cupped her face to give her a tender kiss.

"Is this real?" he murmured against ear as he held her tight. "Or am I just dreaming? Did you really choose me?"

"Yes, it's real and I did," she answered back. "You said we would get here one day. I just sped it up a little."

Draco's response was immediate. He wrapped his arms even more tightly around her frame and kissed her passionately.

She was his now. And he was hers.

And nothing was going to change that.