A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Huge thanks to lanamarymack and Angela 007 for alpha/beta reading this chapter. I am a little bit nervous about this one, so I will be curious to hear what you think about it. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-one soon!


Watching Hermione at Ostara in her white gown was somewhat like watching a delicate flower finally coming to bloom. Tom was reminded of the impressive witch that he'd first met at Borgin and Burkes when she'd swept in and changed his life in ways he'd never anticipated. It was during that first interaction, where she had left him breathless with her interest and knowledge of magic, that he had recognized a kindred spirit in her: someone who was overlooked and perhaps underestimated.

It was clear that Hermione was not going to be underestimated anymore.

He'd almost been blind to it at first, but each little interaction over the course of the evening culminated in making things clearer in his eyes. His friends might not have accepted her at first, but she was bringing them around slowly, but surely.

Of course, he'd realized that Alfie and her had at some point become (dare he say it?) genuine friends over discussions of blood boiling curses and unorthodox uses for doxy venom. But, he hadn't seen the slow pull Hermione seemed to have with the other Knights until now.

Honestly, Antonin made her a violet crown and was disappointed when she already had one of her own. He couldn't remember the last time Dolohov had done a nice thing for a witch, much less one that he had no romantic interest in. Then, she'd handled the wreath with good humor and diplomacy so that there were no hard feelings among any of them, even giving it to Emeric as good as he gave. Tom knew that would only endear her to him in a twisted sort of way.

But, seeing the way that she'd outmaneuvered Abraxas all evening was the real icing on the pumpkin pasty. Abraxas had first attempted to embarrass her about the way that she was dressed, but she'd spun that back as his ignorance about Ostara. While Abraxas floundered away, Hermione also made it a point to confirm all the Knights' loyalty to him, something that Evan was quick to side with Hermione on.

When Malfoy tried to regain control of the situation, pointing to some imagined affair between Alfie and Hermione, she once again flipped things back on him, suggesting that it was Abraxas who was trying to isolate Tom from her. He had noticed that it had gotten a laugh from nearly all of the Knights, even Edmond, who made no secret of his feelings regarding muggleborns.

Tom realized then that Abraxas had been pushing her too hard, thinking that she was going to capitulate like any good little housewitch. That she would just roll over and accept the thie treatment without a say in her life. No, Hermione might have given him an inch of control in the campaign, but she was rubbing his nose in it now that she had power in this group. Slowly, over the months, she'd built it up and she wasn't afraid to wield it.

They all helped with the pine altar, under the watchful eye of Hermione, who bossily told them how to set it up, even Tom. He could see that they didn't all love taking orders from her, but at the same time, no one else was jumping up to lead the ritual, so there obviously wasn't much resistance.

Once it was completed, they took a quick break for a drink - a spiced type of wine that had been brewing for a month. It was equal parts refreshing and intoxicating. Tom came to stand next to Hermione, wrapping his arm around her waist, needing to be touching her. She looked up at him with a pleased smile, but didn't miss a beat in the discussion that the rest of them were having.

"I suppose it's time for us to go track down a hare," Dolohov said, once he'd finished his second helping of the wine.

"Can't we just summon one?" Abraxas asked, sounding tired. These rituals were undoubtedly the most work that the pampered man had done in his whole life and he was normally slinking off to the side so as not to get his soft hands dirty. "I don't want to go running around the forest."

"They are supposed to be caught," Hermione said sharply, apparently looking for any reason to argue with the wizard. "It could reduce the potency of the potion if we do not."

"It's still dark out. They are all safely in their burrows," Abraxas continued, ignoring Hermione and trying to persuade the group. "It will take ages."

"If you don't want to go find a hare, perhaps we could just transfigure one instead," she said, lazily, pulling the attention back to her. She rolled her wand in her hand. "I think you'd make a perfect hare, Malfoy, with your blond hair."

Without hesitation, she flourished her wand, completing the complicated transfiguration, and Malfoy was reduced to an oversized hare. Hermione laughed seeing the absolutely furious look on his rabbity face and the rest of the Knights were quick to join in, Tom included. Abraxas had walked into that one.

The Malfoy hare took a giant leap towards Hermione, which only served to make her laugh harder. He was not intimidating at all.

But, Tom also gently squeezed her arm. "Darling, surely you've made your point now," he teased. "Can you please return Brax to his usual form? He's far more useful to us that way."

Hermione smirked, looking like he quite ruined her fun, but she did as she was asked. "If you insist," she conceded before returning him to his normal human form.

Abraxas was sputtering mad. "What the hell is the matter with you? Don't you know that human to animal transfiguration is incredibly dangerous?" he fumed. "You could have hurt me."

She rolled her eyes, unaffected by his anger. "Relax, Malfoy, it was just a little prank," she said. "Although, I think you should be happy I only made you a hare. I think you'd make a better ferret."

He took an unconscious step back. His eyes flicked to Tom's face, where he stood behind Hermione with a supportive arm around her. He couldn't be seen to ask Tom for help, that would only serve to make him seem weaker than he already did.

"Well, if you insist on sending us out to find a hare, then you should have to butcher it yourself," Malfoy insisted, puffing out his chest, perhaps expecting Hermione to balk at the idea.

To Tom's own surprise (because he knew that his wife was a bit squeamish) she did not show any hesitancy in her response. She jutted out her chin proudly, looking down at Malfoy despite their disparate height. "Of course I will," she said.

"Without magic," Malfoy added, disappointed that his play had not worked.

Hermione appeared amused. "Antonin, you have a knife, don't you?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of Malfoy. When the Russian wizard agreed, Hermione gave Malfoy a sweet smile. "Why don't you lot run off and find a rabbit for me. Antonin and I will begin work on the potion. And do try to get it before sunrise, won't you?"

She didn't wait for the agreement of the group and instead began setting up the pewter cauldron next to their makeshift altar, with Antonin falling into step behind her. Tom was almost too amused to feel annoyed about being sent out with the other wizards to hunt, but he didn't complain anyway. It wouldn't take long.

He kept close by Edmond and they made their way through the forest, looking for any sight of their prey. Ultimately, they were fruitless, but red sparks in the air told them that someone else had been successful and so they returned to the clearing empty handed, just in time to see Emeric passing off a struggling brown hare to Hermione by its scruff.

With everyone reassembled, Hermione didn't hesitate in beginning the ceremony. Tom could see her jaw clench tightly as she used a knife to slit the rabbits throat, before holding it upside down over the simmering cauldron, its blood pouring out and into the potion. Using her wand and chanting the appropriate spells, Hermione finished the ritual potion, decanting it into the chalice.

The wind rose and fell, rustling all the branches in the clearing - a good sign, but eerie nonetheless. Tom watched proudly as his woman led the group through the various chants and calls, before passing around the chalice so that they could all take a drink. She was first to get the ritual potion and it stained her teeth an ungodly red color.

With the chalice returned to her, Hermione used the same knife to cut her hand, squeezing it into the remnants of the potion, before addressing the men. "With my blood willingly given, I will now mark you with runes to give you good fortune and balance for the year," she said, loud and unwavering.

Alfie was the first to go to her, dropping to his knees so that she could reach his forehead. Dipping her fingertip into the bloody mess, she drew a rune onto his forehead, marking him. With the first Knight having gone, the rest of them quickly got in line without much discussion.

Only Abraxas seemed to have an issue with Hermione. When it was his turn in line, he stubbornly refused to bend. "Kneel before me, Abraxas," she commanded. "Unless you do not wish to receive Ostara's blessing?"

Tom could see the embarrassed look on his face, kneeling in front of a muggleborn and accepting her blood. But, to refuse would be seen as something worse to the wizards assembled.

After a beat of silence, Abraxas did as he was bade. Hermione smirked while she marked him with his rune, the blood dripping down over his brow and into his white blond eyebrows.

Tom was the last to kneel in front of Hermione. The thought of submitting to anyone in such an overt way would have angered him mightily only twelve months before, but he didn't have a hesitation in kneeling before Hermione. In some perverse way, it almost made him want her more than he already did, something that he did not think was possible.

When he looked up at her, the lingering shadows of the dawn highlighted the hollows of her cheeks, making her look gaunt and otherworldly. With the rising sun behind her like a halo, she was the darkness in the light - a perfect dark priestess. And how eagerly she had filled the role. Her bloody hand pushed back the hair from his forehead before marking her with his rune - ehwaz, if he was not mistaken. Immediately, he felt the rush of magical power that came with completing such a ritual, all the more powerful with her blood.

Standing, he took the chalice from her. Dipping his own finger into the remaining liquid, he wordlessly marked her with the same rune, hoping to solidify their partnership. Because she was nothing if not his equal.

With the ritual completed, they joined the others at the table to enjoy a feast fit for kings, basking in the new spring sunlight. Hermione was pulled into conversation with Evan and he into discussions with Edmond and Orion and everyone seemed to be happy. Even sour Abraxas loosened up after champagne was served.

When the party was dwindling, Tom collected his wife from the table and they gave their goodbyes, insisting that Hermione needed he rest now that she was further along in the pregnancy, especially after using so much of her magic.

He apparated them to their ensuite bathroom and sat her on the counter next to the sink. Taking her hand in his, he let his fingers find the healing edge of her sacrificial cut. "I think that you rather liked that," he said, his voice low and unaccusing. "Bossing around my Knights like that."

She flushed under her assessment. "You'll have to forgive me for putting Abraxas in his place," she said, completely unapologetic. "He's always trying to put me in mine."

"I don't blame you," he responded, healing the cut, though a small scar would likely remain. "The power can be so intoxicating," he added, pressing his head into his shoulder, so that he could kiss the cashmere soft skin under her ear.

"I've never felt so much power from a ritual," she added, gasping in surprise when he nipped at her exposed skin. "I liked it."

"Of course you did, my little priestess," he said, pulling back so that he could look her in the eyes. With her pupils wide, he wasn't sure if it was him she wanted or the magic. In any case, they were one and the same. He was the only one who could push her into embracing that sort of magic.

Again, she flushed at the assessment, but didn't argue with him.

"Come, let's get you to bed," he commanded, their balance restored. He didn't intend on letting her leave the bed until evening and, suddenly, resting did not seem so necessary.