Severus examined the picture on the front of The Prophet. She was there. It wasn't an illusion. Hermione Granger Malfoy Black stood between her newly minted parents while her brother and her aunt flanked them. It was an impressive photo.

The odd speculation about the rituals and reasons meant nothing to him. The witch was an expert on arcane ceremonies. He knew she wouldn't have taken a wrong step.

He opened to the indicated page to see further pictures. His hands were shaking. Hermione had been a well connected witch with a great deal of power. As the head of the House of Black, she had recalled the seat to the Wizengamot. There was a picture of it in all its ebon glory. There was an article devoted to speculation about Hermione's political goals as the first muggleborn to join the august body.

There was an article rehashing her involvement in the war.

There was an article concerning her fashion choices.

He was fairly certain there was an article discussing her O.W.L. results though he wouldn't need to read that one.

The photos were far more interesting. He could see Narcissa's cunning in each one. Draco and Hermione shoving each other playfully between their parents with Astoria shoving in between them and the three all giggling put paid to any rumors of impropriety. Hermione and Lucius reading in the library with her newest beast resting at their feet illustrated her true acceptance into the family. Each photo had its place and its reason.

The last one was the one that caught his attention most. Hermione was walking with Lupin's boy. His hair was curly and his tiny fingers flexed in hers. The little boy kept glancing up at her as if she held all the secrets of the universe. Severus knew the feeling.

Harry took a deep breath and watched as Ron stormed around his office waving the morning paper like a madman. It was the third day in the row for this particular show, and it wasn't all that amusing anymore. He saw other aurors sniggering as they passed by his open door, and wondered if Ron realized he had become the office prat.

"We need to check her for curses." Ron slammed the flat of his hand down on the desk. "Look at her. He waved the paper in his other hand. She's living at that place, hosting some damned tea with her new mother."

"She's hosting a tea for Astoria's peers. Ginny is invited. Fleur, too." Harry pushed back from his desk. "I wouldn't try to stop them from going. Fleur is particularly excited."

"She's a veela." Ron dragged his hand along the dark wood of the desk top leaving sweaty lines in his wake. "There will be a lot of powerful people there. It's instinct. Bill won't let her go."

"I think Bill will let her do whatever she wants. He's good friends with Mione as well." Harry stood up and braced his hands on his desk. "I may not understand all of Heemione's choices, but she's happy. You have to see it in those pictures you can't stand. She's happy. Accept it and let her be."

"What?" Ron shook his head and set his hair to flopping about. "You're joining the Malfoy circus, too? Andromeda should be ashamed of herself. I don't know how Tonks is supposed to rest easy when her son is cavorting with her murderer's family."

"My grandmother was part of that family." Harry pushed away from his desk and began to pace. "You need to think about your life and quit focusing on Hermione. She's made it pretty clear that she isn't interested in your opinion. To be frank, neither am I."

A wave of his fingers sent Ron stumbling towards the door. The maroon color of his face was worrisome, but Harry waved him off with a smile. It was time someone taught the man a lesson.

"Do your job." Harry smiled. "Focus on the what needs to be done for once."

Harry took a deep breath after his office door closed. He would have to warn Ginny and the others about the storm headed in their direction.

"Merlin, help me." Harry rubbed his palm against his forehead. "I should tell Robards to put a larger detail on the Wizengamot when she does the accounting."

Draco sat next to his father in the gallery with the appropriately bored expression plastered on his face. He knew Hermione wasn't going to bow her head and meekly scurry to her spot. She'd spent too many nights in the library researching. Her happy smile and sparkling eyes were all the warning he needed. Hermione was about to put on a show.

The glinting amethysts braided into her hair caught the light as she strode into the room. Her nearly black gown was fitted to her form and embroidered with enough protective runes to stop anything but an unforgivable. She looked every inch the powerful war heroine.

He felt a rush of pride. This remarkable witch was his sister, his family, his friend. He looked across the room and saw Potter and Longbottom sitting next to each other. He knew they were her friends. He knew both men were true heroes. He knew all of that, and, for the first time, he felt no jealousy rise as he examined them. She was his sister. His bond took precedence over theirs.

"She looks so austere." Astoria murmured from her place beside him. "My father wore a regular set of robes when he took the chair."

"Hermione has a flare for the dramatic." Andromeda whispered from the other side of his fiancée.

A hush fell over the crowd as Hermione stood in the very center of the circle. The charcoal grey of her gown seemed to rise up from the stone floor beneath her.

"I come this day to give the required accounting of my house before I take my seat. I have spent the seven days since my calling of the chair in deep thought. House Black once stood proud. To ensure that it does again, I have decided that I must follow the strictest traditions to honor both my house and this court." Hermione knelt in one smooth motion. She managed to make the gesture look elegant. He heard his mother's indrawn breath and focused as the traditional onyx knife appeared in his sister's hand.

"Bugger." His father's muttered curse hit him like a body blow. "I should have hidden the damn books."

His mother stood and gripped the gallery rail with white knuckled fear. He heard Andromeda begin to mumble every protective incantation he knew and several he didn't. Draco glanced over and saw Longbottom restraining Potter. Astoria started to sob next to him. Everything whirled about in slow motion. He saw the drops of her precious blood hit the stone floor.

One.

Two.

Three.

He forced his eyes up and saw her lips moving. She was casting. Blood magic.