Eighteen
Pictor

Pansy gulps her wine in two large swallows before Hermione can dissuade her.

It is her wedding night.

After a beautiful ceremony and celebration that shows no immediate signs of ending, she paces in shimmering, flowing purple robes. Hermione stands at one end of her route, Astoria at the other. Daphne sits on a chair somewhere between the two fixed points, exchanging comical sidelong glances with Elm.

A few silent exchanges later, and Astoria takes the lead to calm her.

"It will be fine." Her voice is unusually gentle albeit stiff. "You worry for nothing."

"Do not patronise me," Pansy snaps. She brings a hand to her forehead as she turns to pace towards Hermione. "Your wedding night was not witnessed by old men behind a sheet. Hermione's was not only horrible but humiliating."

Astoria looks to her for assistance, but Hermione has none to offer. She is incapable of lying about the experience, which she wants to eradicate from the rules of their land. But after another dirty glare, she tries to comfort Pansy the best she can.

"Prince Neville is likely as nervous as you."

Pansy's laugh is hysterical. "Very good then, I suppose I will just endure—"

"Do not endure. Participate. That is my advice. Guide him but do not be afraid to take your time." Hermione feels strange giving this advice, but this is what she wishes she knew. "There is a sense of urgency due to the spectators, I know. Try to ignore them and let the Calming Draught in your wine take effect. Even if tonight is not to your enjoyment, you can always try again in private."

Somehow, her words make Pansy pause. "It does get better, right?"

"Yes, far better, but it will be up to you both to try."

She and Draco spent the life cycle of the contraceptive potion testing its limits, both exhaling relief when she bled. As Snape predicted, they use charms daily to test her for potions, but find no evidence of her prior deception.

Talk and rumours swirl as Hermione transitions to the plant. She eats one petal each morning knowing that by the end of the night, she and Draco will be entwined together, seeking and finding the euphoric high of pleasure. Sometimes she is wrong and both desire sleep, but most of the time, she is right.

There is a knock on the chamber door. When it opens, Hermione reaches, clasping both of Pansy's hands in hers.

Guards wait for her, but she does not let go until Pansy is ready.

Their eyes lock as the Calming Draught begins to take hold. When Pansy leaves, her shoulders are squared with dignified composure.

Astoria turns to her when the doors shut. "Thank you for your assistance. I will return to my chambers. My family awaits."

"I am going for a walk," Daphne announces, standing with Elm on her shoulder. Her walks are code for sneaking off with Goldstein while everyone pretends not to notice the budding bond.

"You both are bold." Astoria's brow raises. "How long shall you be coy about your attachment? He is beneath your station, but he is not common-born. You need only—"

"I do not wish to marry," she says quickly. "I like my freedom."

"Do you love him?" Hermione is a quiet observer to Goldstein's longing looks when Daphne is around. "If you do not, you will crush his heart."

"Anthony is…" Daphne trails off with a shake of her head. "Loving him is not my problem."

"Then marrying him will not mean loss, but access to something better," Astoria finishes with a growing smile. "With the right person, it is not what you think. It is not what our parents had."

Daphne grimaces. "Mother was miserable due to Father's bold affairs. She still loved him and walked into the sea from her pain. You were able to trust Theo with your heart, but I will never give a man the opportunity to rule mine so cruelly. You have a liberal mind, Hermione. Do you not agree?"

"I do, but I cannot speak of love. I do not know it with the same certainty that I know how to use the stars to guide my way."

"Is Draco not yet in your heart?" Astoria asks.

"No."

But he is in Hermione's bed.

In her thoughts.

Under her skin.

Sinking deeper. Flowing through her veins.

Expanding her consciousness.

Draco has not breached her heart, though he surrounds it on all sides.

The more Hermione learns, the more she cares. The more she relaxes her guard, the closer he approaches. Attraction and affection, warm and bone deep, comfortable and trusting—these are the things she feels.

But not love.

Not yet.

Still, between the scoffs and eyerolls, the annoyed mutters and the scowls, some hints make her wonder if what she feels is strong enough to bring down the walls of her fortress.

Hermione does not answer the looks.

She leaves to return to the feast, but someone is looking for her.

Queen Augusta's advisor.

Albus Dumbledore.

His white hair and long beard are neat tonight, as are his festive robes and spectacles. Fawkes flies overhead and down the corridor. Dumbledore inclines his head first, then her guards, eyes twinkling with mirth when she instinctively keeps her distance. Dumbledore was not present when they arrived at the Longbottom Palace days ago, but he attended the wedding.

He should still be at the feast, as should she.

"May I join you on the walk back to the banquet hall?"

"You may."

The walk is silent at first, more of a stroll. Albus walks with his hands behind him, his hand still injured, worse than before. It feels as if he is gearing up to speak. When he clears his throat, she is proven right.

"It seems I have earned your distrust, Queen Hermione."

"My priorities lie with my crown and my husband, just as yours lie with your greater good. Our paths do not align, yet here you are on mine." Hermione matches his stance, looking ahead. "You do little without reason, Dumbledore. State your purpose."

"There is little that gets past you, Queen Hermione."

"When one knows where to look, the difference between allies and enemies is but a fine line."

"Surely, we are closer to the former than the latter." When she says nothing, he continues, "I know my decisions are not easy. Not every choice will be, but each must be a fair, carefully considered decision in order to achieve the common goal."

"You chose children as soldiers in a war neither understood until it was far too late. You exploited them, and now that it is nearly over, another war looms yet you ignore the needs of the one who will no longer be of use to you once he fulfils his Vow." Hermione feels herself growing angry, but settles, breathes. "You are a charming man, a good advisor to both Queen Augusta and Prince Neville. My brother trusts you because he wants to save the realm, but forgive me for not being swayed by your rhetoric."

"Queen Hermione, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to you—a queen who is good, kind and brave, all because you had the key to what Voldemort wanted."

"I will never forget, just as you need not forget what I say here and now. I could have given in, but I made a choice. I chose to fight against the odds. I chose to keep him out of my mind in order to save my friends and brother. I was not entirely successful, but I knew I would die before I gave in. And I was willing. Now I fight to save my husband and kingdom. You speak of choices that you do not give others. You speak of—"

"I do not intend to abandon Draco," Dumbledore says softly. "I cannot. I promised his mother."

"Just as Snape did."

He nods. "She protected him in life, as well as in death."

Distrust keeps her silent only for a moment. "How?"

"She made me promise their bloodline would not end with him. That he would live beyond my plans for him. To fulfil this promise, I gave him a tool to guarantee his success in battle." Dumbledore glances at her, an odd twinkle in his eye. "He speaks of our Vow, but he does not know entirely why it was taken. I needed him to do more than my bidding. I needed him to win, should I be cornered at any time and lose. A gamble, given that I was sending him to war, but no one expects a boy to be carrying such a weapon."

Hermione freezes. "The Elder Wand."

The old man smiles. "You truly are everything Harry said you were."

Modesty rises; she bats it away to remain shrewd, still reeling from the revelation. "Draco does not know."

"No, and he cannot. I am often comforted by the fact that he prefers his sword to his wand. It can corrupt even the worthiest of men, but only if they know what they possess. On the day we took The Vow, I antagonised him until he disarmed me in anger. In one act, the wand became his."

"If it is that simple, I watched my brother disarm him in a duel."

"Perhaps, but who gave Draco his wand back?"

"Harry."

"Thus transferring ownership back. For as powerful as the wand is, its allegiance is simple. I was very clear when I told him—"

"Harry knows? He told us you have The Elder Wand."

"As he was instructed to do when asked." They stop outside the banquet doors. Her guards remain poised far enough away to ensure their continued privacy. "You must not tell him. The king must never know."

"Draco thinks you sent him to battle with nothing. He hates you."

"And he must continue to," he says firmly, bringing his blackened hand to his chest.

"You should have a Healer tend to that. It has worsened."

"There is a price to everything. This wound is borne from arrogance and a desire to see those I have lost. It will never heal."

What sort of wound is it? What caused it? Hermione wonders but does not ask. "At least they can relieve your pain."

"Numbing pain only makes it worse when it is finally felt." Before Hermione can think further on his words, Dumbledore turns to her. "Before we part ways, I must tell you as I told Harry. You must understand that magic is more than spellwork and charms. It is intentional. You cannot fake it. I learned this when I convinced the wand it was given to a more worthy master. You must believe it with all of your heart. This is where most plans fail."

She turns his words over.

"I know you want Harry to be safe, but there are sacrifices that are made for the greater good. Voldemort is too weak to create more Horcruxes. Now that his are gone, he must be destroyed once and for all. By any means necessary. Harry is key. He must make that sacrifice to stop Voldemort from rising."

"Sacrifice is not always necessary, nor is it a guarantee," Hermione retorts calmly, raising her hand to signal for them to open the door. "You speak of my brother as if he is a lamb raised for slaughter. But he is not."

The doors open.

Draco approaches while the wedding feast boisterously continues behind him.

"Dumbledore," he greets politely, albeit very measured.

"King Draco," the old man returns in kind before looking at Hermione. "Remember what I said, not what you heard."

And he returns to the party.

"I was coming to you." Draco glances over his shoulder at Dumbledore. "What did he say?"

"Many things I do not wish to speak of tonight."

They have not spoken about any of their lingering problems over the course of this trip.

Hermione has instead taken the time to explore the unfamiliar kingdom. She swam in the ocean and saw merpeople for the first time. They even wore disguises and wandered the village, buying seeds for plants Hermione dreams of growing in their homeland. Anonymity made Draco indulgent in a way he never is. He still vanished from time to time, likely planning with Prince Neville and Harry, but mostly he is content.

That he does not prod her mind for the conversation with Dumbledore speaks of his continued trust.

Hermione takes a moment to bury her knowledge deep. For his protection.

"Pansy is settled, but I do not wish to return to the banquet," she confesses when the doors shut. Hermione is used to the looks, but it does not mean she enjoys them.

"Nor I." Draco excuses the guards with one flick of his wrist. "Follow me. Let us not talk of war, those who seek immortality, or the machinations of an old man. You choose what we do tonight."

They end up on the balcony just off their chambers, listening to the tide roll in while looking at the nighttime sky, dotted with thousands of stars and a half moon. The air is fresh yet salty. Hermione inhales the scent; it is nothing like the sea behind their palace.

It is peaceful.

Beautiful.

Draco draws her from the railing and onto his lap. He tucks her curls to one side, kissing behind her ear while lowering the straps to her gown, exposing her bare skin to the dewy night. She feels him harden between her legs and smiles.

"When are we set to leave?" Hermione murmurs, stroking his hair.

"At dawn."

"When we return, the work continues," she reminds him, settling back. Draco reaches to cup her breasts, but she shakes her head, worrying her lip with her bottom teeth as heat simmers in his eyes.

He wants, as does she.

Only, Hermione wants something she has not received.

"I am taking my turn tonight."

"Oh?" It is barely audible. "Out here?"

Beneath the moon, Hermione answers by sinking between his parted knees.

Testing and tasting, touching and learning.

She takes Draco's cock into her mouth, greedily basking in his reactions that rise like the swell of the tide. The way he goes from watching to guiding to swearing to feeling with his head thrown back, fingers gripping the arms of the chair tight. Hermione hollows her cheeks and a moan slips from his lips without warning.

"My queen."

Ocean waves crash below as Draco's words wash over her like a caress.

They fill her with a power she has never known.


The mornings grow chillier as they resume their routine.

Kaida's wing tears are nearly healed. She allows Hermione to examine them as she tells the dragon stories and Draco listens, finding the water too cold for a swim. When she takes to the skies, they draw swords and spar, Hermione challenged to keep Draco out of her mind.

Day by day, she improves on all fronts.

Regains her strength.

Fortifies her mental wall.

Together, they visit his mother's portrait, mostly in the dead of night, the trips hidden from the castle's judgmental eyes. He does not offer a reason, just takes her hand and leads her to the hallway, silent all the while. Lucius never pays them any mind, his focus painted to rest obsessively on Narcissa.

But Narcissa's attention is on Draco.

On them.

Hermione leans against him each visit, a reassuring arm wrapped around his waist until the subtle signs of fear and loss begin to settle.

"I am ready," he says before they leave.

But it is not until after several visits that she begins to believe him.

On that night, Draco reaches out to touch the canvas and allows Hermione to bear witness as he speaks honest, vulnerable words to his silent mother.

"I miss you."

This is when she trusts that Draco is ready to do more than acknowledge his losses and punish himself for his perceived failures. He is ready to do what is necessary—not for survival or even to save his crown.

He is ready to live.

Only when Draco is not watching does Narcissa mouth thank you.

Hermione bows to honour every sacrifice she made in life.

And in death.

They speak until they fall asleep that night, but the subtle change lingers.

He smiles more in private. Laughs when he finds something funny. Tells Hermione stories about the good parts of his childhood, including antics with Kaida that make the dragon huff in laughter. He talks more in the evenings, always about something different. Their competing moral compasses lead to debates. But Draco, she learns, is not conflicted, nor is he torn between light and dark. He often asks for her 'idealistic opinion' and considers her response. He may not agree or even listen, but this is far better than silence.

The first time he allows her to question everyone involved during a court dispute, and proceeds to deliver a ruling that is not evenly split, attendees and advisors alike are stunned. Draco looks at her as if to say, "Is this not what you asked for?"

It is a bold enough statement to cause everyone to treat her differently.

Those who sneer continue to do so, but at her back and in secret. Draco is less likely to allow them to insult her freely. Snape issues quiet warnings. Sirius continues to act as her unofficial shield from the more dangerous council members. Pucey makes certain not to offend, and Flint approaches her more, just to converse. He tells her rumours she does not wish to hear and speaks on topics to show they are more alike than different. Theo airs his concern to them in private about the noticeable thawing in their relationship as husband and wife.

Having the favour of the king is dangerous, even as queen.

Draco's paranoia remains high.

Her guards rarely leave her side when he is not there. Always at attention. Always with their faces covered.

They are present even now. Kaida returns, watching the free dragons fly overhead.

"You can join them." Kaida gives her a look reminiscent of her familiar. Hermione chuckles and stands. "It is a suggestion. They fly overhead often, perhaps they wish for you to join them."

As the pair circle above once more, the dragon tracks them in the skies. When Hermione nudges her again, Kaida gives an annoyed huff before taking flight. Hermione watches with pride.

The other dragons do not flee.

They communicate.

Kaida is larger by far but the three fly in circles.

Quietly, Hermione wonders if this is the end of her loneliness.


With Kaida playing in the skies, Hermione uses the now rare time alone to continue working on her stores before her meeting in the library with Percy.

The interruption from Draco is a welcome one. It is not his first time here. He never comes empty-handed, always with obscure ingredients needed to stock her stores. Sometimes he brews with her, other times she allows him to brew under her guidance, but today he places the bezoar on the shelf and lingers long enough to get her attention.

"Would you like to brew today?" Hermione rises to her feet. "I had nothing planned, just arranging my stores."

"I only came to deliver the bezoar, but I was wondering if you had much success with Lady Marietta. You and Lady Alicia believe she knows something."

"No luck." She returned to her father's home the day she wanted to speak to her. Now that she has returned this week, Hermione has been much too busy to get her alone. Alicia has tried without success, Cho as well, but she speaks little and is distant and nervous.

"Perhaps I might have a word."

Hermione is familiar with his methods of extracting information. It is distastefully violent and often bloody. "I prefer she live through the conversation. As far as I know, she has committed no crime."

Draco considers this. "Perhaps another approach is wise."

"Thank you."

The door opens and guards usher in a fearful, wild-eyed Marietta. Hermione gives Draco a sharp look, glaring harder while he appears quite pleased with himself.

"She is in one piece, her mind unaltered, and I was discreet. Goyle separated her from your Ladies and brought her here."

"Y-y-your Majesties," Marietta stammers, close to tears, dropping to her knees.

Hermione aims one final lecturing glare at her husband before focusing on the snivelling woman. "Rise. You are not in trouble."

"So long as you do not lie to us." Draco skims the stores and plucks a vial of something they brewed together. A truth serum.

"That will not be necessary." She helps Marietta to her feet, drawing her to the small bench where they sit side-by-side. "There is nothing to fear."

Eyes slide to Draco then back. "I know what you wish to ask, but please do not force me to speak. I c-cannot."

Hermione notices him stand straighter, but she holds up her hand to keep him away, focused on Marietta. "What is it? Have you taken a Vow?"

"No, but it burns when I venture too close to the truth." She lifts the hem of her gown, showing the rash on her legs. It is deep red with welts that spread slightly higher before Hermione's eyes. "Salve does not stop the burning. Spells do not either. I went to my father and his Healers told me there is nothing they can do."

"A curse that spreads throughout the body?" She looks at Draco. "Is that possible?"

"Dark magic. Powerful. Similar to my mother's curse." His expression hardens. "Who did this to you?"

"A voice the commands the darkness with a weapon. I saw it months ago. It will come for me if I speak its name. Master." She swallows thickly and sobs into her hands. "I am trapped. I shall die like this."

Hermione's heart aches. "Can we seek aid from the centaurs?"

Draco does not speak his mind. "I will alert the counsel."

"No!" Marietta yells then starts screaming, jerking in pain. To their horror, the same rash on her legs spreads to the tips of her fingers and boils appear on her face. Attempts to calm her are futile. She sobs and screams, trying to claw at her legs, agony reddening her face.

Hermione cannot hold her. Cannot stop her from harming herself.

She hardly notices Draco until he draws his wand. A red jet strikes her in the back and Marietta slumps forward. Hermione catches her before she falls to the floor.

Shocked, she looks on as the king makes quick work of lying her body on the bench.

"Is she—"

"Stunned. Not dead. It was a merciful act. There will be no lasting damage." He leaves the room and returns with Goldstein and Goyle. "Take Lady Marietta to her chambers. Send for the Royal Healers."

"Yes, Sire," they answer in unison.

Goyle is the one who picks her up, careful with her head and neck.

Goldstein leads the way, wand drawn.

As they are ushering her out, Harry appears at the door.

Next to him is someone she has not seen in years.

"Remus!" Hermione brightens at the sight of her old tutor. "You are here."

"Dumbledore said there were wolves in the kingdom. He sent me to aid."

Draco squints, but there is no time for explanation as they both see Lady Marietta's state.

Harry has the decency to wait until they are gone to ask the burning question. "What happened?"

"She has been cursed by our necromancer," Hermione says gravely.

Remus looks utterly confused. "Your what? Dumbledore never mentioned this."

"It is a long story, but it will need to wait," Draco says. "Find Sirius and bring him here. We will go to the centaurs together. Potter, bring the Ladies back from town, use your cloak if you must."

"I will wait with my lady," Hermione says, following Goldstein and Goyle. "Bring Lady Cho and Daphne to me in Lady Marietta's chambers immediately."


Hermione does not leave Marietta's side. Cho and Luna arrive first. Daphne and Alicia follow a short time later. Cho cries at the state of her friend, then harder when the Healers say their burn paste is useless against dark magic.

They will keep her comfortable with potions and wake her gently.

When the Healers leave, Alicia closes the door. "Why has she been cursed with dark magic?"

"She has witnessed something terrible, something she cannot speak about." Hermione replies. "This is the secret she keeps. The more she tries to tell the truth, the more her skin burns. Judging from her state, it appears she has been trying to her detriment."

Cho wipes her eyes, her face hard and angry. "What do we do?"

"For now, keep vigilant. Stick together. Luna, do not wander, for we do not know what you may happen upon. I should not tell you all this, but there is a necromancer in our midst. The—"

"Inferi," Alicia says suddenly. "The dementor attack. The strange sightings. It is all connected."

"Yes."

Daphne, Cho, and Luna exchange terrified looks while Alicia steels herself with this knowledge. "How do we protect ourselves from someone who controls the dead?"

"I do not know, but we must remain on guard. You all stay here. I have to meet with Percy in the library. I will seek books to aid us."

Alicia steps towards her. "You will not go alone."

There is no arguing with her or anyone else. Silent guards escort Hermione and Alicia to the palace libraries where Percy awaits. He is studying parchments and barely notices her arrival until she is almost at the table. He bangs his knee standing and grimaces.

"My apologies." Percy notices Alicia and bows his head. "Lady Alicia. I did not know you were coming today for books."

"I am here with the queen."

"Do you still have the books on necromancy?" Hermione asks. When his brows furrow in confusion, she continues, "I will allow the king to tell you what has happened and what we have learned."

"Very well." He pulls a thick one from the pile and offers it to Alicia who accepts with both arms. " I keep my more important tomes close to my person. It is quite the read."

"I shall begin."

When they are alone, Percy offers her the second seat at the table. "Your M—I mean, Hermione. My apologies."

"It is fine." She waves her hand. "It has been quite the day and I need a moment of normality. Sit, please. "

He does, and she joins him. Before him are scrolls of what appear to be building plans he has drawn.

"Is this—"

"For a school to be established in each village in the kingdom. I know much time has passed since you requested my help with your dowry. I know you came here to discuss my visit to the Shacklebolt Kingdom, but I have been working on this as well. Finding teachers for each is an issue that I am trying to resolve."

"There are those who would volunteer, and those who do not wish to marry but want a career. We can look beyond what we know." Hermione stares at the sketch. It is modest, just as many of the villages in the kingdom are, but it is a beginning. "I will talk to the king."

"Oh?" Percy sounds intrigued. "I suppose the rumours are true then. You have taken his confidence."

"I cannot take what is given freely, earned after much work and strife." She looks at him, the corners of her lips curve down. "I am aware of the danger I find myself in."

"Be careful, Hermione. You have exceeded people's expectations, and that alone threatens the balance. Draco is right to keep you under guard until you are eligible for a wand of your own. His enemies will use you against him."

"I know." Hermione thinks back to the Inferus. "I will take heed."

"Good. I will keep my eyes and ears open."

"And I shall do the same." She shifts in her seat. "What did you find during your visit to the Gaunt family archives?"

"I am still sorting through everything. Voldemort's father disappeared from the records after he ran away. From what I can tell, he and the princess never married. He was a visiting scholar from the Abbott Kingdom. Her father and brother would not allow it, even after she was with child. It is not known how long she kept him under the love spell. As a peasant, I imagine he went home. To search every graveyard in a kingdom whose borders have changed over time for one man is madness."

"It is, but this is something Voldemort has to do for the spell. It is something he has likely already done, and we do not know. Perhaps this is not our avenue to stop him." Hermione frowns thoughtfully. "I remember he said that we were alike."

"A royal orphan with a peasant father. He would be considered tainted and made to feel like he did not belong anywhere. Like you, in a way. But unlike you, he was not raised by a family that loved him."

"Monsters are made by man."

"This is true," Percy agrees. "Voldemort was given his father's name by his dying mother and raised by the deranged King Marvolo and his uncle, Prince Morfin. In their neglect, he educated himself with stolen books. Due to their abuse, he changed his name and assumed a new identity."

"I heard the Gaunts were a poisoned line due to inherited madness and deformities caused by rampant inbreeding."

"Yes, which is why it was not hard for him to secure a wand and convince their enemies to put him on the throne as a better option, despite his peasant father. He used the prophecy to wield power."

Everything after is the part of the story she knows.

The terror. The violence. The cursing of a bloodline. The genocide of an entire kingdom.

Hermione shudders. "I do not think we will find what we seek, so we must focus on the last ingredient. Harry—or any enemy he chooses."

"How do you suppose we combat that?" Percy asks.

"I am still thinking. We need to find the Resurrection Stone should the plan go awry." She remembers Dumbledore's words about the Elder Wand. "Draco has dispatched his knights in plain clothes—"

Percy snorts inelegantly. "I am sorry. I am not used to you speaking the king's given name so casually."

"My apologies. We speak informally to each other. I can imagine it would be strange to hear."

"It is not." He is quiet for a moment. "Are you happy?"

The question surprises her enough to place the parchment on the table and consider her answer. "I—it is something I have learned. It is happening naturally."

"Good. You deserve it." Percy ducks his head. "I am glad you found it your own way."

There is something in his tone, his words, that make Hermione take notice. "Are you cross with me?"

"I suppose I was when you first refused me, but now I see we would have been miserable. Two thinkers, driven to desire more in a world we cannot directly change with one word, one thought, one action."

"You asked for my hand out of convenience."

"I did, but you do not understand your own strength and how your potential draws others. I was drawn to it. To you. Just as the king is."

"I only answered his questions."

Percy looks amused. "Is this what he said?"

"More or less. His reasons were—"

"I think you should ask before you assume." He chuckles. "I much prefer how things have turned out. With you becoming who you were meant to be, in a position to bring about real change. Not just in the kingdom but…"

"But what?"

Percy sighs, looking down in a way that makes him appear deep in contemplation. "Like Voldemort, King Draco is a flawed man from a tainted line. He struggles to find balance not only in how he wishes to rule, but also in how he wields the absolute power found in being king. His entire line ruled with force and violence. At times, the king is very much like them, but lately he has begun to change. He has a lot to learn, but I believe he will become a strong and wise king. With you at his side, he might also become a good one."


Pictor: Le Chevalet et la Palette, which means "the easel and palette."

*waves*

Hello! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let's play the "pick the Dumbledore lines from canon" because I did a lot of twisting in this one. I absolutely loved writing Dumbledore in this chapter. Lots of clues and hints about what's to come. And the elder wand's true location. I had a blast with Marietta and healing Draco...and his growing relationship with Hermione. Hello Remus. Teeheehee. And Percy. Okay everything. Honestly, I've had so much fun building this world. Grateful for everyone who has come along on this wild ride.