A/N1: Standard disclaimer; see chapter 1 for details.
Draco scanned the ballroom; as this was a major social observance presented muggle style, he and the others felt a sense of responsibility for its success. Everything seemed to be progressing well, even if the departure of the poncey author had been unusual. All appeared to be enjoying themselves with one exception, he noticed. He made his way around the floor and bowed before Diana.
"You seem pensive today. I thought that these months had been happy ones for you. Is it because of the type of event, a wedding?"
"Not at all. I was just contemplating the peace that I now feel after being able to step away from the rush of public life for a while. That blessed tranquility has permitted me to examine my personal situation with objectivity. But what about you? I see a familiar sadness in your expression."
"There is a question that I have often wanted to ask Her Majesty. I am hoping that you might be able to answer it."
"Of course."
"Why was I selected?"
"What do you mean?"
"Harry was an obvious choice for the 'revolution', an already idolized figurehead. A good leader, even as he chafes under our society's expectations. Neville is the dependable one. He can steady Harry when he starts to feel the strain and make Hermione translate some of her ideas into recognizable English."
"Indeed," she chuckled, "Lady Brainard has not changed much from our first meeting."
"Her title is appropriate; she is the brains of the group. When I state that she is absolutely brilliant, rest assured that I am not denigrating the intelligence of the rest of us."
She nodded. "Indeed. You all acquitted yourselves well during your pre-Hogwarts education."
"They did indeed, especially considering that Harry and Hermione were ignorant of their magical status and Neville had been almost cast by the wayside. That shared history of isolation formed a strong foundation for their bonds of friendship. So what I have been wondering is why you needed me. Because of my family, I was accepted everywhere and was denied nothing. Frankly, anyone could have filled my slot, and sometimes I think I am just a pretty face next to their depth of character."
"I will confess that you were selected to help ease the group's acceptance in certain circles. You, the scion of a noted conservative family, stand with your friends and grant validity to the rapid societal changes which have swept through wizarding society the past few years. Without you, the other three would have an uphill battle. And most importantly, without you they would miss a valued friendship." Her voice faltered. "Are you perhaps dissatisfied with these friendships which, I admit, we rather forced upon you?"
"No, perish the thought. They are the greatest, most loyal friends a person could have and I would probably have ended up the consummate prat without them. I only feel that my contribution is a superficial and inferior one."
The princess chuckled, albeit with some melancholy. "We possess many similarities, Lord Fer-de-Lance. How many magazine covers do you think this face would grace if my features were less pleasing to the eye? Often I am seen as a charming dilettante in the family. Now," she grimaced, "as a burden upon the monarchy. But take note: No More. Even an 'empty-headed socialite' can change directions. I have met many here who fit not into what people call 'normal': Professors Firenze and Flitwick and the kind, self-effacing elves. If the cameras are to be focussed on me, they shall reveal my compassion towards those most in need of empathy, understanding, and acceptance. You, Draco Malfoy, have had all eyes on you as well. Simply by accepting that blood status makes no difference, you make a strong statement. Harry may be the symbol, Hermione the brains, and Neville the heart, but you are the one who guarantees acceptance of what you advocate. You and I, My Lord, may be 'pretty faces', but we can make unpopular ideas and beliefs palatable." She took a deep breath and raised her chin infinitesimally. "Earlier, I dabbled in many causes; now I shall concentrate my efforts on those which need the spotlight of my fame the most. You and you alone can guide your destiny, but Her Majesty and I have no doubts that you will make wise decisions while doing so."
"You honour me, Your Highness." His elegant bow was interrupted by a reverberating gong. "That is the warning sound to send us to prepare for the second ceremony. May I escort you to your rooms?"
"After a few detours. First take me to the Burbage-Quirrells and then the other three of your group."
"Your Highness, that sounds remarkably like the beginning of a farewell."
"And so it is."
"What? You would waste what the females of the castle have been describing as the most magnificent robe ever sewn?"
"Nonsense," she laughed lightly, eyes still shadowed. "I shall save it and have it refurbished in a few years to wear at your wedding. No, Sir Fer-de-Lance, I have delayed my return long enough. I cannot express how much I appreciate being able to personally aid our plan, little though it might have been, but I shall not be staying. This has been a most beneficial idyll, but the truth is, I do not belong in your world. I have 'licked my wounds', so to speak, and am now energized to face this new phase in my life, in which I am the one deciding what path my feet walk upon."
"You shall be sorely missed." His eyes brimming, Draco held out his arm for her to take.
The portkeys returning the students to the castle after the ceremony at the stone circle dropped them off just outside the gates. Hagrid, taking multiple breaks to blow his nose after seeing off the princess during their absence ("Bless 'er," he was heard to mutter several times that evening), caused a backlog as he checked off names on the long parchment. Once Professor Flitwick apparated back, he began to assist and shortly a steady stream made its way into the entrance way.
Albus Dumbledore, his crooked nose still out of joint over the snub received from the happy couple, watched them gather in the Great Hall. Snippets of conversation drifted up to the Head Table.
From a group of sixth year girls:
"You say those glowing runes on their arms will last until the marriage is consummated? Too bad that they're not going to go on a honeymoon until the summer."
"Based on what we've seen the past few years, I don't think they'll need a fancy trip for that."
"I know; once one of the prefects saw him sneaking down the hall towards her rooms right before curfew."
From some Gryffindors:
"Professor McGonagall caught the Weasley twins trying the switching spell to get extra cups of wine."
"That's nothing. Finnegan blew up his glass trying to turn the wine into rum."
"Why would he try to alter perfectly good alcohol?
From members of a Defence study club:
"When we studied boggarts, Professor Quirrell's turned into Trelawney calling him 'darling'. I heard that's why he wouldn't let Dumbledore perform the ceremony."
"Yeah, especially with the way the old man has been acting lately. Merlin! Just the thought of being married to her makes my stomach queasy."
"I told you that you shouldn't have had that second piece of lembas."
Unable to sleep after such a frustrating day, the headmaster wandered into his office. Fawkes was not present to witness his rambling diatribe about Harry Potter and his failure to appreciate the subtle art of divination.
When he finally ran out of words to express his annoyance, he sat down so abruptly that he had to lean forward to massage his tender rump. Goodness, the paperwork had certainly piled up with him out of the office, overseeing the preparations for the festivities with a critical eye. Oh dear, more from the Ministry. It's always one thing or another.
He froze as he read the latest missive. Ah, perhaps this would be of use to his plan. "Tom won't be able to resist this," he cackled to himself. And the fact that such an occurrence would restore Albus Dumbledore as the cynosure of British magical society would only be a bonus.
The remainder of the Hogwarts term was almost universally declared to be a letdown. Yes, those who were involved in OWL and NEWT testing still felt some pressure, but the fact that the entire student body had joined together to experience an important rite of passage from two viewpoints put those examinations into perspective.
Another factor to consider was the departure of the princess. While the initial buzz of her presence in the castle had been electrifying, her warm personality and genial acceptance of all had endeared her to the students. Many of them sent owls to her wishing her well in her future endeavours, to which she graciously responded. Her championing of those who were different had begun without her knowledge.
Each winter term must end in summer break, and this one was no different. On the train ride back to London, Luna finally conceded defeat. "All right, Hermione," she sighed, "how were you able to detect me this year?"
"You don't believe that the blibbering humdingers warned me?" she teased. When the girl crossed her arms and glared, she laughed, "All right, all right," and handed her an earring.
The others in the carriage leaned over the small piece of gold, blocking the light so that Luna had to 'lumos' her wand. "Runes? But they wouldn't alert you unless this was linked to me."
"The heart is hollow," she informed her, "and one thing about your flyaway hair is that you shed a lot. With your genetic code in contact with that," she pointed, "it warmed up whenever you neared."
"This looks like the design on your ring," Draco said, brow creased.
"The one you accused me of having from Cedric."She laughed. "It was also a pendant on a necklace and a charm on my bracelet. A versatile bit of jewelry which allowed me to perform a bit of obfuscation."
"Misdirection." Neville nodded. "Steadman said that could be used to great effect."
"I was quite pleased with the results of my efforts."
"But Mione," Harry pointed out as the girl pushed the stud back through her earlobe, "you only started runes this year."
"Harry, Harry," she shook her head at him fondly, "don't you remember that I always take home a bit of 'light reading' each holiday?"
The head of the Department for International Cooperation stomped instead of stepped out of his home fireplace.
"That goat-buggering, senile old fool!" he spat to the empty room. "First he delays signing the contract until almost the last minute, and now he's in my office every other day droning on about the Dark Lord using the tournament to regain a body. The doddering imbecile! Voldemort has been dead for years! And Potter will only be a fourth year and ineligible for entry anyway.
"Winky!" he called. "Bring the decanter of firewhisky to the table, then fetch my son for dinner."
The small elf popped into the room. "Begging pardon, master, but young master be's on sofa over there. Winky thinks he likes to see's sunshine. But no worries, he has invizzy coat so no strangers sees."
The invisibility cloak also kept the room's occupants from noticing the sudden jerk of the head underneath it. Frustration with the Hogwarts headmaster had made Bartemius Crouch, Sr. slightly forgetful the past few weeks. The younger man's intelligent mind had been slowly waking due to the weakened imperius curse, and this news of his lost master snapped the final bonds. Yes, plans needed to be made, but oh, so stealthily.
A/N2: Noblesse Oblige: Triumph will begin shortly. Also, I would like to thank erstwhile-S for helping this muggle navigate wizarding spelling challenges.