Ron was smashing his peas into mush with the bowl of his spoon, scowling into his plate. Around him, his family and friends were involved in lively conversation at the dinner table. Those barmy Sylvan blokes were back and regaling the group with some story about a centaur who got tangled up with a rogue troupe of fairies. The girls in particular seemed enamored with the tale and Ron watched with dissatisfaction as Ginny and Fleur leaned forward on their elbows to hear better.
Ron couldn't tell what was annoying him more: the way these smarmy gits were speaking, their speech so animated the peacock feathers on their hats bounced in the air; or the fact that Hermione seemed on her way to buying into all this.
Though, Ron supposed, of all the things he had encountered over the last seven years- three headed dogs, giant spiders, an evil wizard hiding bits of his soul in lockets and snakes- Hermione as royalty wasn't the most unbelievable.
He stole a glance at her. Hermione sat straight in her seat, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her head was turned toward that Leopold fellow as he explained the history of the castle the Sylvan court was housed in. Hermione had a thoughtful expression on her face. Ron recognized that face. It was the same look she wore during a lecture she found particularly interesting, the look that said her brain was rapidly working to catalogue all of the facts she was learning for future use.
Ron had always known he would lose Hermione. When he was younger, he figured some prat like Krum or McLaggen would steal her away. For a while, he assumed it would be Harry. During the past year his fear that something more sinister would take her, some dark curse or Death Eater, consumed his thoughts in the day and his nightmares in the evening. Then, for a long while, he knew that if he ever got lucky enough to win her, it would be his own blundering efforts that would push her away. More and more, that fear seemed the most likely.
He had never thought, though, that it would be like this; that some man in a funny cape with a giant book would appear one day and whisk her off. But, Ron figured, if he had to lose her, as he always knew he would, there could be worse ways. Of anyone he knew, Hermione deserved to be treated like a princess the most.
"The castle, of course, is constantly expanding," Leopold was saying. "As new courtiers leave and others come in, the walls magically convert to create the necessary rooms and halls we require. The magic is quite similar to the charms used in the moving staircases at Hogwarts."
"Yes, I read that this afternoon," Hermione said. "It must be amazing to watch."
"Well, you'll get to see for yourself or course. When you join us there."
Ron's head jerked up at Leopold's declaration. Hermione was going to a castle? When had this been decided?
"Um," Ron coughed. "What were you saying?"
"The next step in this process is getting Hermione to the castle," Leopold answered. His gaze swept over Ron as he spoke, as if studying the younger man. "That's where the trial is held, to determine who the real heir is."
Ron nodded slowly. None of it made any sense to him. After the final battle, Ron had spent days trying to determine what the best course of action would be for Hermione. She'd already spent too much time at the burrow, busying herself with chores and cooking and taking care of the grieving household. Ron didn't want her mired in all this sadness for one more moment. But he had thought Hermione would retrieve her parents over the summer, then return to Hogwarts. It had seemed obvious to him, the best thing for Hermione. Then she could move on with her life as she was meant to. Get a brilliant job at the Ministry, change the wizarding world, then marry some wealthy bloke and live in a mansion. Her moving to an enchanted castle had never occurred to him.
Ron chanced a look at Hermione. She was watching him with an expression he couldn't place, like she was trying to read his thoughts. For a moment, their eyes locked. Ron held her gaze for a few seconds before looking back down to his feet.
The room was quiet before Ginny broke the silence.
"Does she need to go already? The trial can't start until all of the candidates have been located, and there are still three other girls to be found."
"Actually, two other young women were notified of their candidacy this afternoon," Leopold said. "And we believe the fifth will be located as soon as tomorrow."
The four small men who had accompanied Leopold began enthusiastically whispering at this, clearly excited by the prospect of the fifth candidate. The shortest, the one who had read the lengthy scroll, hopped from his seat and rushed around the table to whisper in Leopold's ear. Leopold nodded in response.
"Please excuse my men, they are anxious to return to our tent and send their congratulations to the other Sylvan courtiers assigned to the new charges."
With that, the four small men bowed deeply to the table, then swept out the kitchen door and into the night. Leopold gave an apologetic smile to the group.
"They're an excitable bunch and they don't always follow the social graces of the wizard world."
Mrs. Weasley stood to start clearing the table, muttering under her breath something about sending some leftovers out to the tent later. Fleur got up to help and Charlie and Bill excused themselves for a game of wizard's chess in the living room. Ginny took the seat left open by Fleur, positioning herself closer to Leopold.
"What happens at this trial?" she asked.
"Several things, actually," Leopold answered. "Hermione, I imagine you read a bit about it today."
"Yes," Hermione said, "though I haven't got through all of it."
"Traditionally, there's a grand feast the evening the trial is set to begin. Family and friends are invited as well as other notable figures in the community. The trial begins at the conclusion of the feast and involves each of the candidates as well as their knights."
"Knights?" Ginny asked.
"The candidates each have a champion," Hermione answered quietly. "A sort of partner, I suppose, to help them in the trial."
"That's correct," Leopold said. His gaze moved around the room, eyeing Percy and George who now stood at the kitchen island pouring tumblers of fire whiskey. Leopold then looked briefly at Harry before settling his eyes on Ron, studying him again in an unnerving manner.
Ron's head was swimming. It all sounded like a load of hogwash. A knight? Who was that supposed to be? Probably some slick haired arse with ten OWLS and a Bulgarian accent.
"How exactly is the knight chosen?" Harry asked uneasily.
"There's not a science to it," Hermione answered. She played with the fork in front of her, turning the handle in her fingers. "As far as I could tell, the knight is determined by whoever steps in at the correct moment, when it's time."
"That's right," Leopold nodded. "The process is different for each candidate, but you'll know when your knight has been selected."
"Is any of this dangerous?" Harry asked suddenly.
Leopold didn't answer immediately. Ron watched him intently, anxious for his response. Ever since this whole princess announcement, it had never occurred to Ron that Hermione might be in any danger.
"It can be dangerous," Leopold said finally. "The trial can be grueling and can prove perilous for both the princess candidates and their knights."
"How perilous?" Hermione asked.
"While rare, there have been incidents of death."
"No," Ron said clearly. "Hermione, no."
Hermione looked at Ron, her brow furrowed. He could tell she was disturbed by this information as well, and Ron needed to make sure they were on the same page here.
"I understand your concern Mr. Weasley," Leopold answered.
"It's a nice offer, but we have to decline," Ron interrupted, standing from his chair. He held his hands in fists at his sides, determined to argue this as far as necessary.
"Ron, let's take a moment…" Harry said slowly.
"Are you serious? You're siding with him?"
"I'm not siding with anyone, but I think we need more information."
"What information do you need, Harry? People died! Haven't we had enough?"
Ron slammed one fist on the table to emphasize his point. The sound startled even him.
"If you two are almost finished," Hermione said then, "perhaps I might have a word?"
Ron looked at her and could tell she was only moments away from shouting herself. Her cheeks were flushed a lovely pink and her hands were on her hips. It was the same stance she took just before starting an impressive row.
"Hermione, perhaps you would like to accompany me for a walk?" Leopold said. "We can talk some more and I can answer some more of your questions. In private."
Hermione nodded, moving from her seat at the table. As she passed them, she gave both Harry and Ron a hard stare before gliding out the back door, one arm crooked through Leopold's. The door shut loudly behind them and Ron slumped back in his chair with a huff.