Thank you to Ladyshjwblack for betaing, it is very much appreciated.

Again, I can't express how much the support and love you all give this fic. The feedback has been amazing and I am deeply appreciative!

As a reminder, the E version of this fic is on AO3, username is MissELY. My ask box is open on my tumblr where my username is MissELYLux

August 8, 2008

Harry met Hermione at the bottom of the stairs. He had changed into dress robes at some point and he looked every inch a Duke.

He looked her up and down several times before his appreciative gaze met hers. She blushed again, this time to the roots of her hair. He smirked knowingly and a small grin tucked into the corners of her mouth in response.

Harry offered her his hand as she descended the last few steps, drawing her in close.

"You look marvellous," he murmured, leaning down to kiss on to her forehead. She looked up at him and he took the opportunity to press a kiss into the corner of her mouth.

"Thank you." Despite her nerves, Hermione was unable to keep the wide smile off of her face.

"Come on you two love birds, we want you settled in the Visitor's Sitting Room before that fraud gets here" said Sirius making a shooing motion with both of his hands.

Harry rolled his eyes good naturedly at his father's antics and tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow.

"Shall we then, Your Majesty?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the room in question.

She nodded and let Harry lead her to a room she hadn't been in before.

She understood instantly why it was called the Visitor's Sitting Room. It was extraordinarily formal, and very uncomfortable. All the furniture in the room looked like it belonged on Antiques Roadshow. There was a tapestry on one wall that she could have sworn she had seen in The Vatican when she had gone to visit as a child.

Harry ushered her into the closest thing to a throne in the room. It was a stately and sturdy chair in the center of the room. The wooden back was intricately carved and when she sat on it she felt very much on display. She perched on the edge, feeling very out of place.

Harry knelt down in front of her and took her face in his hands. She nuzzled into his palm, unconcerned about her make-up seeing as beauty charms resisted smudging.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, his voice low. The others seemed to be giving them a moment to themselves, as no one else had entered the room yet.

Hermione resisted the automatic urge to say she was fine and did him the courtesy of actually considering his questions.

"Overwhelmed, certainly. But I can make it through this interview. Especially if it means that Sir Avery looks like an asshole." She finally said after a few seconds.

"Good girl," Harry kissed her forehead before pulling away. He remained at eye level with her as he reached into his pocket, drawing out something that caught the light and glimmered.

Thick bands of gold alternated with thin ones, creating a heavily layered look to the necklace. What Hermione was sure were real diamonds hung from some of the bands.

She opened her mouth, but promptly closed it when she realized she had no idea what to say.

"Aunt Cissa said you needed jewellery with this dress." Harry stood and secured the necklace around her neck, his fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Harry," her hand went to the necklace and skated across the metal, "this is—"

"Don't tell me it's too much," Harry interrupted, his hand resting on the back of her neck. The warmth from his palm wove its way down her spine and curled in her chest, making her feel satisfied but hyper aware of his touch.

He reached back into his pocket with his free hand and drew out a pair of earrings that matched the necklace.

"You're going to have to help me with these," he said with a smile, "I've never had to put these on someone before."

Hermione secured the earrings, disbelief still making her tongue tied.

"Beautiful," Harry said, squeezing the back of her neck gently.

"I can't keep these," Hermione said, looking up at Harry's face with wide eyes.

"Of course you can. They belong to the Duchess of Llŷr. Even though your title of High Queen will override, you'll still be the Duchess, and so this still will be yours. You're just getting it a little early."

Her heart soared, and she resisted the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. Even though they had both affirmed to each other that what was between them was real and long term, hearing him say that, so openly, still made her giddy.

Harry removed his hand as Sirius, Remus, Minister Shacklebolt and both Malfoys strode into the room.

"Isn't my future daughter-in-law so lovely?" Sirius cooed, bringing his folded hands under his chin and batting his eyes dramatically. Harry sighed in annoyance from where he stood at her shoulder.

Lord Malfoy reached out and smacked Sirius on the back of the head without even looking at the other man. Hermione stifled her laugh, but Remus and Harry didn't.

The rest of the room began to arrange itself around her. Hermione tried to work out why as she watched them move without communicating. Harry stayed standing by her right shoulder, slightly behind her make-shift throne. Minister Shacklebolt took up a position by the door, like a sentry. By her left shoulder Lord Malfoy sat on a sofa, leaving an open chair between them. His wife sat next to him. Sirius settled on a bench to Harry's right, and Remus next to him.

No one moved as the door to the room swung open to reveal Nagnok, Headmaster Dumbledore, and Draco. They all offered Hermione low bows, which she acknowledged with what she hoped as a stately nod. Her heart was beating too fast and her mouth tasted sour with nerves though, so she really couldn't tell how it came off.

The newcomers also moved into position. Draco took up a place opposite Minister Shacklebolt at the door while Nagnok found a seat by the fire, near where Remus and Sirius sat. Professor Dumbledore wandered over to sit in the chair Lord Malfoy left open, right by the left edge of her chair.

They must have discussed or arranged this while she had been dressing. Either that, or there was more to aristocratic protocol than she knew.

Her curiosity pressed at her, and she was about to turn to ask Harry, when the door once more swung open and Rita Skeeter walked in the room accompanied by someone carrying a very large antique-looking camera.

Rita Skeeter looked much like she had the time Hermione had seen her on the one occasion the reporter had been at Hogwarts. She must be near middle-aged for a witch, but still dressed in garish colors and wore slightly too much eye makeup. Her hair was bottle blond and a feather-covered fascinator perched on an up-do that would have been more at place at the Royal Ascot than at this impromptu interview.

"Your Majesty," Skeeter simpered, bobbing a curtsy that made her hat wobble on her head. "It's been so long, the last time I saw you, you were just a child!"

The photographer also bowed, but looked much more ill at ease than Skeeter, his eyes darting from one occupant of the room to the other.

Hermione felt the muscles in her face tense as she resisted the urge to frown at the woman.

Skeeter smirked at Hermione and her insecurities hit her like a fast-moving train. This was a mistake. Her stomach turned over and she bit down on the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. She didn't know what to say, why did she think that she could survive this interview, let alone being Queen or even pretending to be Queen.

While she was having her internal crisis, Professor Dumbledore withdrew his wand and conjured a very uncomfortable looking chair for Skeeter to sit in. The photographer first looked to Skeeter, who made an enthusiastic motion with her hand to get him to begin taking photos, and then to Draco by the door, who gave the man a slight nod. This was enough for the photographer to bring the camera to his face and begin snapping photos.

The flash made Hermione wince, but she did her best to keep her expression neutral, though her insides still felt like they were writhing with anxiety.

"Please," Hermione said, keeping her voice disinterested, "sit."

Skeeter perched on the edge of the chair and primly crossed her legs.

"It's so nice of you to see me on such short notice," Skeeter reached into her purse and withdrew an electric green quill and a piece of parchment.

Professor Dumbledore made a tsking noise, shaking his head slightly.

"Now Ms. Skeeter, you know that your Quick Quotes Quill isn't a verbatim record," Professor Dumbledore chided gently, "I just so happen to have this Self Writing Quill here for you to use."

He reached into his robes with a little flourish and produced an elegant dark blue quill. Skeeter reached out slowly, obviously reluctant, and took the quill from the Headmaster.

"How kind of you," she held it with her thumb and index finger, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"We, of course, appreciate your dedication to the truth." Harry's voice was low with warning.

Skeeter narrowed her eyes and looked quickly between the quill and each person in the room before settling back in her chair warily.

"Of course. Well, why don't we start at the beginning. Your Majesty, can you tell me about your childhood?"

What felt like ten hours later, Dobby ushered Rita Skeeter and her photographer out the door.

It had only been two hours.

Hermione didn't relax though, and Harry tried to mask his concern. He stayed standing next to her chair, the most ostentatious one Remus had been able to conjure on such short notice. It really did resemble a throne.

She had done a spectacular job. She had managed to remain cool and collected, even in the face of Skeeter's most impolite questions, including about her sexual history and impolite questions like whether her Muggle parents had actually taught her to read.

He had resisted the urge to throttle the woman as Hermione had doled out brief but sharp responses that even his Aunt Cissa looked proud of. The only signs of her discontent was the clenching of her fist in the fabric of the skirt of her dress and how her lips pursed together in disapproval between every question.

Hermione stood abruptly, and everyone in the room did so as well. She pressed her lips together so tightly that her mouth went white. He touched her shoulder gently, and he felt the tense muscles relax under his hand.

"Thank you all, for all of this," she said, making eye contact with every person in the room, "I truly appreciate this show of support and all the organization that must have gone into this. I know it's late, but I still need more information about what's next."

Harry glanced at Kings who saw the look and nodded his understanding.

"Avery is a problem," said Kingsley, his deep voice laced with concern.

"I agree," said Aunt Cissa, her elegant hands folding in her lap, "the man is a bore and he was a pureblood supremacist, even after the Dark Lord fell. More importantly however, he is the most power hungry and ruthless man I have met in a long while."

Lucius nodded in agreement. "He has nothing that even distantly resembles scruples. And his supporters aren't any better. Thicknesse would sell his mother if that meant being half a step closer to the source of power. Most of the others though, Fudge, McNair, Chang, and others are more loyal to the galleon than they are to any set of ideals. So Avery must be funnelling money to them somehow. Avery's pockets aren't deep, but he somehow has managed to keep his faction funded and fed for almost a decade now"

"Where is the money coming from?" Hermione asked.

Nagnok cleared his throat softly, and Hermione's eyes narrowed as she focused on the Goblin. Harry's eyes also narrowed. Though Nagnok and the whole Goblin race had been helpful, he still didn't like that they had held back information and Harry was unsure where exactly their loyalties lay.

"The Goblins are honour bound to keep the secrets of our clients." Nagnok paused, as if he was weighing his next words very carefully. "However, I can say that he has multiple sources of income."

Harry scowled, "he and his lot have been a headache for the DMLE as well. Sir Avery has been sniffing around, trying to protect the worst of the bunch that I am trying to kick out of the Aurors. I suspect that one of his sources of income may be the bribes that the corrupt Aurors collect."

It was maddening that he still hadn't been able to root out the corruption in his own department yet. The amount of pushback he had gotten from 'prominent members of the community' for trying to ensure the department actually functioned was suspicious. It was clear that the worst of the Aurors had friends in high places, Sir Avery among the most vocal.

Kingsley gave a slight bow in Hermione's direction. "Your Majesty, if I might have leave to return to the Ministry, I think we will be able to put together some emergency measures to ensure that the Ministry is at least able to function on a temporary basis, until more is settled. The next pay period isn't until the beginning of next month, so there is still some time."

Hermione nodded. "Of course, thank you for your help Minister Shacklebolt."

Kingsley bowed and stepped out of the room.

Hermione stayed silent until the snick of the front door echoed through the sitting room.

"Can I trust him?" She asked, still looking at the door he had exited out of.

The Malfoy's exchanged a look, and Lucy inclined his head towards his wife in acknowledgement of whatever their silent conversation had told him.

"We believe so," Lucius said. Hermione turned to look at him, brow furrowed. "He has no history of supporting the Dark Lord, and resisted offers of bribes consistently, from when he first took office to just a week ago. From what we know he got the job not because he wanted it, but because there were no other viable alternatives at the time. He is the least political politician I've met. Which is why he's been a largely ineffectual Minister."

"How would you know he refused bribes, Lucy? Did you offer him one?" Sirius's tone was playful, but Harry recognized the glint of steel in his father's gaze.

Lucius scoffed, rolling his eyes. "No you miserable cur, I didn't. But you know very well that certain individuals still believe I'm one of them. They keep me apprised of the goings on."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something back, that would have been biting and rude, but Hermione interrupted him.

"Sirius, can we trust Minister Shacklebolt?"

Harry's father refocused on Hermione and ran a hand through his hair as he considered it.

"As much as I hate to admit it, I agree with Lucy. Kings was a spectacular Auror, but he was never very good at playing the game. No big bills have passed under his watch, and he's barely fended off the wolves who have been trying to roll back the small morsels of progress the progressives have made."

"He has unimpeachable integrity," Albus offered, "but he has never been great at winning votes. He does an excellent job at the administrative parts of his office, but the political parts have been largely neglected. But I agree, trusting him is a fine choice."

Nagnok took a step forward, calling attention to himself. "He is respected by the Goblin nation, but we know he has very little power himself."

Hermione nodded, worrying her lip, obviously deep in thought. Harry kept silent. He agreed with everyone else. During his brief time as Head of the DMLE he had been able to count on Kingsley to back his plays, but the Minister had fallen down when trying to secure an increased budget for the Aurors.

"If he's not good at politics," she finally said after a moment of silence, "perhaps we could encourage him to take charge of whatever paperwork tornado is assuredly underway right now. He could handle whatever bureaucratic nightmare this becomes?"

Aunt Cissa inclined her head approvingly, and Harry's eyebrows rose. Aunt Cissa was a hard woman to impress.

Draco pushed himself dramatically off of where he was slouching by the door. "I'll go and lend him a hand, make sure he doesn't accidentally shoot you in the foot. I knew I wouldn't get any sleep tonight."

Hermione shot him a grateful smile, and he bowed in her direction before hurrying out of the room.

"Your Majesty," said Nagnok, bowing. "I will also take my leave. I need to return to the Goblin Realm to check on the research progress. Draco also called for other human researchers who continue to look at the High King archives. I'll call on you in the morning with news."

Hermione nodded and the Goblin also left the house.

She turned towards the Malfoys and worried her lip briefly before nodding to herself, apparently coming to a decision.

"Lord and Lady Malfoy, I believe you could be of help if you could contact your—" Hermione hesitated and grimaced, but continued on "—less savoury contacts and see where their heads are. I know that there is already a faction that seems bent on delaying whatever this turns into. But I need to know if they have support, if so, how much, and what their pressure points are."

"Of course Your Majesty, we are your humble servants." Lucius bowed and Narcissa curtsied, and both swept out of the room.

Again, Hermione remained quiet until the noise of the front door closing reached the occupants of the sitting room.

"And can I trust them?" Hermione asked, her mouth twisting in a sardonic smile.

"As much as it pains me to say, yes." Sirius said with a grin. "Lucy has saved my life more than once. And though he was once an absolute nightmare of a human, he has greatly reformed. And Cissa is the most devout follower of Magic I've ever met. She sees that Magic has selected you and would never work against that."

"Though we have had our differences, it's clear that he no longer holds the same views he had in his youth. He is comfortable with the position he has attained, and would not jeopardize that." Dumbledore offered with a smile of his own, "and Lady Malfoy has never given me a reason to doubt her word."

"Also," Remus spoke up, "the Malfoys have their own brand of loyalty. They are loyal to family. And since Harry considers you family, and they consider Harry as their second son, you fall under that umbrella. They also crave power. And being in this room, allowing them to be present while you gave your first interview, gave them that. It is in their best interest to remain in your good graces. They won't sacrifice that."

Hermione turned to look at Harry, his lips twitched down but he nodded in agreement. It had been so long since the Malfoys came into his life, that he hardly remembered a time without them now. It was slightly distressing to hear all their faults laid bare, but Hermione did need to know who she was dealing with, and she didn't have the deep trust in them that he did.

"Okay," Hermione rolled her shoulders. "I know there are other things I need to worry about. Headmaster, sometime tomorrow I'd like to go to Hogwarts and see the tower that opened up. I also want all the files in the Goblin Realm triple checked. I know the Goblins were magically compelled not to reveal the existence of the High King archive, but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

Albus nodded and bowed to Hermione, "Your Majesty, if that's all, I need to ensure that Hogwarts is ready for your arrival tomorrow."

She took a step towards him and grabbed one of his bony hands in both of hers, "Professor Dumbledore, I thought that I was as grateful as I could be when you wrote me a letter of recommendation that allowed me to study with Nicolas Flamel, but it seems that I continue to be in your debt."

He smiled at her kindly, his eyes twinkling over his half-moon spectacles. "It is I who am grateful to you, Your Majesty. I thought I would die with Magic and the nation in stagnation and waste. I am grateful to have been wrong. Magic chose well when it selected you as High Queen. It is an honor to have taught you. And please, call me Albus."

Hermione's eyes became suspiciously bright and Harry watched her blink rapidly and swallow hard.

"Thank you," she said, her voice thick with tears, squeezing Albus' hand gently.

He patted her shoulder with his free hand and then drew away and left.

Harry stepped close to Hermione, wrapping an arm around her hips and drawing her back against him. He had understood the necessity of her standing on her own instinctively. His father may have been irreverent and dismissive of all institutions, but he was still a Black and had ensured that Harry had learned about optics and politics from a young age. Harry had been encouraged to ignore and dismiss social norms, but he still had to know what they were.

A young unknown, untested Queen needed to be able to stand on her own if she was to be taken seriously. Her being surrounded by the most powerful people in the country had helped with that, but if it looked like he was pulling the strings, she would look weak from the gate.

And she had looked powerful. Her interview with Skeeter had gone as well as he could have asked for, and she had already been clear about what needed to be done and had delegated well. She had done a spectacular job. He could not have been more proud of her.

But as she sunk back against him, he felt a slight tremble that seemed to overtake her body. She had gotten some sleep, but probably not enough considering the emotional and magical exhaustion that she had endured in the past 12 hours.

"Dad, Remus, Hermione needs more sleep. If you need anything send an elf."

"Wait," Hermione said, laying a hand on his forearm, "am I forgetting anything? Is there something that I missed?"

"No, Your Majesty, you did a great job," Remus said, giving her a soft smile.

Hermione yawned wide and nodded. "Okay. If there is an emergency, if someone else becomes Queen or something, please let me know,"

Sirius snickered and held the door open for her.

Hermione allowed Harry to guide her back to the bedroom she had slept in earlier.

She sat on the edge of the bed, still in her finery and her shoulders slumped and she crumpled forward, her head falling to her hands.

"I don't want this," she said quietly, her hands tangled in her hair. "I don't want to be in charge of anything. I want to research. I want to live a simple life. I don't want to be Queen."

Her voice sounded so small and lost and it made Harry's heart twist. The tugging at his breast bone pulled especially hard and he sat next to her on the bed.

He said nothing, but dragged her on to his lap. She tucked her head against his shoulder and let him run a comforting hand down her side.

"I don't want this. This is all happening so fast. And I can't deny the things that have happened. And there is no other viable alternative right now. And I know that if I don't do it then more things will fall apart, and all those people will be at risk, will suffer."

She shuddered against him, and he held her closer, furious at the universe, and at Magic, for the first time in his life, for placing her in this position.

"How about," Harry kept his voice soft, "we get you back into pyjamas, and then you get some more sleep, and we worry about this in the morning. One day at a time, love."

Hermione yawned again, so wide her jaw cracked. "Okay, but I think tomorrow is going to be a lot too."

Harry laughed hollowly, continuing to stoke down her side in a calming motion.

He didn't say anything, but he agreed. This was just the start of something entirely new.