The Lost Horcrux

A Study in Alchemy

Disclaimers: Dark themes, police state ideas, mention of spousal abuse on and off-screen, death of minor characters, graphic imagery and violence, frank sex discussion, copious bad language, bashing the fucking Weasleys and Dumbledore, liberties taken with mythical history.

***

It was late morning when Hermione woke. There were shadows flickering through the curtain and hushed, frantic voices drifted in from the corridor outside the Infirmary, which was where Hermione had gone as soon as she was up and dressed. She looked fondly down at Harry, his eye closed and half covered by his blue shawl, which Hermione thought was the one that suited him best, and snoring away like a beautiful warthog.

"So much for breakfast in bed, Harry," Hermione quirked in a whisper. She tucked his blankets tighter around his shoulders, placed a chaste kiss to his head and decided to go and give a row to whoever these idiots were whose voices threatened to wake him up.

For the raised chattering was getting closer now. Hermione huffed at it and made her way out into the corridor, determined to head off the speakers before they could disturb sleeping Harry. Once she got there, however, she simply halted in her astonishment.

For Narcissa Malfoy was marching towards her, a determined look on her face, with Enola trotting behind her.

They met and, for a moment, simply sized each other up. A dozen different emotions passed between them, and Hermione felt for her wand on reflex. Narcissa saw the movement and narrowed her eyes.

"Really? Attacking the Chief of the Order you wish to be inducted into?" said Narcissa, smoothly. "Is that how our relationship begins?"

"You tell me," Hermione replied, not breaking gaze once with this formidable woman.

"So, this is the witch who wishes to marry our king?" Narcissa drawled. She had a haughty demeanour, one used to privilege, and a voice that was sniffy and dismissive. She was every bit the Malfoy Hermione had expected of her, despite the validations she had heard in her favour. "Let me take a look at her then."

Hermione cocked a cross, nonplussed eyebrow at her. Narcissa began casting her gaze up and down, assessing Hermione. She didn't like it, had always hated being on display, under such scrutiny. She shifted awkwardly as Narcissa's eyes passed over her frame.

"Your friend seems to be a genteel, prettyish sort of girl, Mrs Longbottom," Narcissa commented to Enola, sounding for all the world as if Hermione wasn't there and that she didn't much care about her looks either way, as she moved around her in a circle. "She went to school with Lord Longbottom, I believe?"

"Yes, ma'am," Enola simpered. "And with Harry, too. And your son, of course."

"Hmm," Narcissa replied, critically, twisting her poker face into an inscrutable expression. "And you support her application to become an Acolyte, and later Lord Harry's Consort?"

Enola nodded, sheepishly. Hermione smirked to herself. She'd never seen Ennie this shy or bashful. Narcissa seemed to terrify her.

"I see," Narcissa went on, giving nothing away. She turned back to Hermione. "Enola tells me that Harry was ... inside you."

"He was," Hermione confirmed, as Enola winked wickedly at her. "But now he's back in his own body again."

"Curious," Narcissa frowned. Then she cast her gaze out of a nearby window as if scrutinising the grounds beyond. "There are some pretty little flower gardens off to one side of the lawn here, Miss Hermione. I would be happy to hear more about this as I take a turn in one of them ... if you would favour me with your company."