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."
Enola shrugged in surprise as Hermione threw her a questioning look, but then Narcissa moved swiftly off and Hermione had to hurry to fall into stride alongside her. She cast several surreptitious glances at the older witch, wondering what this was about and curious to know if Narcissa knew anything about the pasting Hermione had given to her son during their most recent confrontation.
But Narcissa said nothing until she and Hermione were safely ensconced in one of the larger flower gardens, where they were quite alone. When Narcissa turned, her manner had changed dramatically ... she seemed angry, Hermione might have gone as far as saying her look was one of loathing nastiness.
And when she spoke, her words were as sharp as her look.
"You can be in no doubt over the reason for my being here Mrs ... Miss ... what should I call you?" Narcissa began.
"Hermione will do just fine for now," Hermione replied, huffing at the mention of her hated marital status. "But if you'd prefer to be more formal, I will only respond to 'Miss Granger'. If you call me by my foul, married name, I assure you that I'll completely blank you, Chief Acolyte or not. And no, I have no idea why you are here."
"Very well then, Miss Granger," Narcissa replied, coolly. "And though you seem determined to be insincere and evasive you will not find me so. A report of a deeply disturbing nature reached me two days ago from my contacts at the International Confederation of Wizards. They told me that a young witch turned up there who was not only wearing Harry Potter's family ring, but who was claiming to be his wedded wife.
"Now I knew this must be a scandalous falsehood. For if Harry had been married I would have been the first to know about it. Indeed, it would have been I who carried out the ceremony! So as soon as I knew you had returned from this unauthorised jaunt to mainland Europe, I immediately set off for this place to make my sentiments known to you."
"Unauthorised jaunt?" Hermione scoffed, derisively. "Forgetting for a moment that I, alone, took action to try and save magical Britain, who died and made you chief of passport control?"
Narcissa tightened her jaw as a splash of colour hit her pale cheeks. She hadn't expected Hermione to be quite so feisty, wasn't used to witches talking back to her, that was clear. This wasn't going to go the way she had planned.
"Crossing the magical boundary to Britain was a reckless act that you had no right to carry out," Narcissa volleyed back.
"That's a very long-winded way to say thank you," Hermione quipped, silkily. "Thanks to me, you and long-haired Lucius can sit in your pit at Malfoy Manor and play host to Draco and his Death Eater boyfriends, maybe even invite Tom Riddle himself around for brunch, while you passively resist. But, I suppose Harry would prefer me to say you're welcome!"
"Miss Granger, do you know who I am?" Narcissa asked, crossly. "I am on Harry's side in this war, I have no love for King Voldemort or his Dark new order and I am not used to language such as this."
"So I've heard, but I'll believe that when I see it," Hermione sniped back. "I reserve the right to distrust you until you earn respect from me. You are a Malfoy until proven otherwise in my eyes, and all the devious darkness entailed therein, and I don't care what anyone says about it. So, out with it then ... you promised to make these sentiments you carry something that might scare me off. Do your worst, Mrs Malfoy."
"You really forget yourself, my girl," Narcissa scythed back. "Do you really think that what you are doing is normal or standard? That you can simply make these choices on your own without reference to Harry, who he is, where he has come from or who he will be? Do you really think that you are that important?"
"Well clearly you do or else you wouldn't have come all this way," Hermione snapped. "What do you propose by it?"
"To learn if this report is at all true and to have it at once explained or contradicted."
"By coming this far to see me, your Ladyship will be seen as confirming this report if it exists at all," said Hermione, simply.
"Miss Granger, this is not to be tolerated! Has Harry made you an offer of marriage?"
"You've declared it to be impossible."
"It ought to be so. For not only are you already married, but you are married to a Weasley, one of the principle families of the Dark Order! Harry shouldn't be looking at you with anything but disdainful eyes. But your arts and allurements may have made him forget who he is and what he owes to himself. You may have drawn him in!"
"If I have, I would be the last person to admit it!" Hermione threw back, coolly.
"Miss Granger, I insist on being satisfied," Narcissa cried. "I am Harry's Head Acolyte, a position I succeeded to after his mother was killed, and I am entitled to know all of his nearest concerns."
"But you are not entitled to know mine, nor will such behaviour as this induce me to be explicit."
"You refuse to oblige me, then? Refuse the call of honour and duty? And this is the attitude we might expect from a young witch with the upstart pretension of trying to worm her way to becoming the future Mrs Potter? I should let you know that I am not in the habit of accepting disappointment."
"That will make your situation today more pitiable but it will have no effect on me," Hermione replied, stonily.
"I will not be interrupted!" Narcissa yelled. "You are, or have been, a Weasley ... do you not see that your alliance with Harry would be a disgrace?"
"Whatever my background, if Harry doesn't object to it then it can mean nothing to you."
"We would never even mention your name," Narcissa continued in a low hiss.
"A minor misfortune, I'm sure I could get over it," Hermione replied, waspishly.
"Tell me, once and for all, are you engaged to him?"
Hermione stepped close to Narcissa and, with a malicious smirk, held her engagement ring up to her face.
"Yes ... I am."
Narcissa looked like she'd swallowed a fire-crab while it was actually on fire.
"And when did this happen? Was it before you stole his ring to go to the Conference in Vaduz?"
"I stole nothing," Hermione cried, angrily. "I merely took what was ours, from our family collection, and used it to cross the Wards to Europe. And yes, we were engaged ages before that."
"And was it Harry who proposed?"
"Yes."
"So ... Harry has chosen you, then?" Narcissa mused, as much to herself as Hermione. "And, as much as I have my doubts about you, I learned long ago to trust Harry's instincts, so I can only assume he knows what he is doing. How far as he introduced you to the more ancient and arcane forms of magic?"
"Only the basics of Runes and Ritual," Hermione confessed ruefully. She wished she had something more advanced to offer. "Will I have need of such things to marry Harry?"
"No, you have to go beyond runes for this," said Narcissa. "Go to something even more powerful."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "And what might that be?"
"You have to step ahead of runes," Narcissa went on. "And immerse yourself in alchemy."
"Alchemy?" Hermione queried. "How can that have anything to do with with marriage?"
"Because Harry is an alchemical adept, a Red King," Narcissa explained in a smug air. "And only his complimentary, alchemical partner can be allowed to be his bride."
Hermione blinked at that and, for the first time, started to feel a little worried. How was she supposed to know if she was this alchemical partner Harry was looking for? It seemed she would have to defer to Narcissa's expertise on this, but admitting her dearth of knowledge to an arrogant Malfoy went against all of Hermione's proud sensibilities.
"I don't know enough about this to even guess if I am what I need to be," Hermione confessed, modestly. "Will you ... could you explain it to me ... please?"
Narcissa's expression softened slightly, but it was so slight that it was barely noticeable. "The study of alchemy is in one part physical and another more spiritual. Harry is questing to be a Master Alchemist, both in the earthly manner and the more important, spiritual Work. How much do you know about the alchemical process?"
"I know the basics, turning base metals to gold and creating the Philosopher's Stone," said Hermione. "And then there's the creation of all types of Elixirs in that ... oh, is that how Harry keeps healing all these vicious wounds he gets? Alchemical Elixirs?"
"You cotton on very fast, don't you?" said Narcissa, nodding approvingly, if a little begrudgingly. "Harry is very good at creating elixirs. He hasn't quite made it to the Elixir of Life yet, but he's proficient at producing some of the others for more earthly healing. Alchemy is a very difficult art ... few wizards even get close to unlocking its secrets."
"Nicolas Flamel did," said Hermione. "And Dumbledore did a lot of work with him. I met his daughter, Amelie, and she told me a little bit about that."
"Yes, but did Amelie tell you why her father succeeded where Dumbledore fell short?" asked Narcissa, shrewdly. "And what Harry must do if he hopes to also be able to achieve this ridiculously difficult feat?"
"No, she didn't go into much detail."
"Would you like to hazard a guess on your own?"
Hermione thought hard. Flamel was a brilliant wizard, Dumbledore too. But she didn't know enough about either to answer confidently. And she couldn't fathom for the life of her how Harry was at all similar to them. So she simply shook her head.
"Flamel had a partner, an equal to complete the processes of the Work," Narcissa explained. "Alchemy is fundamentally about the joining of complimentary things, it is a process of union. Perenelle Flamel was Nicolas' perfect partner ... they were alchemical soulmates. Dumbledore never had a partner to work with in the process. And Harry ..."
"Needs a perfect partner, too," Hermione breathed. Her heart was pounding hard again, speeding her blood all through her. "But why cant that be me?"
"Do you believe that it could be you? Truly ... with all of your heart and mind?" Narcissa asked with a genuine gentility that caught Hermione a little off-guard. "Harry clearly does, because he's chosen you enough to make you an engagement ring from alchemical quicksilver. But do you believe it? If you have even the slightest doubt, then you cannot be and this conversation ends now."
Hermione swallowed all her niggling misgivings for the final time and drew in a shaky breath as she considered everything.
"I ... I am Harry's perfect other!" she hushed in breathless astonishment. "We are two halves of one whole ... my mind, his heart ..."
"To make one soul," Narcissa finished quietly, looking at Hermione in near-wonder. "You've met with Lily Potter ..."
Hermione met the older woman's gaze resolutely. New understanding and respect flared between them. Hermione could only nod in muted silence.
"And did Lily ... did Harry's mother ... approve of you?" asked Narcissa, cautious and quiet
"Yes, she gave me her blessing, on behalf on her and James," whispered back, shyly.
"Then you have already been ordained by a higher authority than me ... decreed as Harry's White Queen ... by his own alchemical mentors, themselves."
Narcissa's voice was bordering on the reverent now. It was an incredible turnaround in her attitude towards Hermione.
"His White Queen ... what does that mean?" Hermione asked, hurriedly.
"The alchemical process is primarily about joining the Red King ... the hot, dry principle ... with the White Queen, the cool, moist compliment," Narcissa explained, her excitement evident. "Harry is certainly a Red King, governed by his sulphuric passions ... he is the heart aspect of the union, and marked by the Sun."
"How is Harry marked by the Sun?" asked Hermione, confused. "He doesn't have much of a tan."
Narcissa looked at Hermione with a sort of semi-amused pity, the way one looks at a wayward child. Then she took out her wand and slashed it through the air three times in a complex little pattern.
"You may recognise the Sowilo rune," Narcissa continued. "Also knows as The Rune of the Sun. Have you seen this shape before?"
The rune was shaped like a bolt of lightening and Hermione's eyes went wide as she watched it flash in reds and golds and purples before her.
"Harry's scar," Hermione breathed. "His other one, I mean. It's the exact same shape!"
"Marked by the Sun, in the form of this rune," Narcissa smirked, cockily. "Now you, Miss Granger ... if you are to be Harry's alchemical soulmate, his complimentary other, then you must be touched by similar symbolic markers. I have heard many times that you are cool, logical, supremely intelligent ... clearly the Mind to Harry's Heart.
"But the alchemical link is something I have never thought to explore for you before. Harry is Philosophical Sulphur in the Work ... so, to be his White Queen, you must be marked as Philosophical Mercury, the partner substance to Sulphur. What is your astrological sign?"
"I'm a Virgo," Hermione told her. "Born on September the nineteenth, if that matters."
Narcissa clapped her hands in elation. "Virgo ... ruled by the planet Mercury. And your name ... Hermione ... female form of Hermes, I'm guessing. Which means Mercury. Actually ... Hermione Granger ... what is the chemical shorthand for Mercury?"
"Hg. I used to have a Periodical Table poster on my bedroom wall," said Hermione, without realising the significance at first. Her eyes popped open in wonder as comprehension slammed into her. "Oohh ... my initials! H and G! How incredible is this getting?"
Narcissa smiled so warmly at Hermione then that she forgot all of their earlier animosity at a stroke.
"Harry has been looking for you his whole life, whether he knew it consciously or not," Narcissa muttered quietly. "Lily always knew what her son needed to find in a partner. She knew he was a Red King from the earliest days of his life. The Sowilo marker is just one of the indicators... he is also a Leo, ruled by the Sun ... Leo is a lion, which is a proxy symbol for the Sun in alchemy ..."
"Harry's Animagus form is a lion!" Hermione shrieked excitedly. "And he was in Gryffindor. A golden lion was the symbol of our house!"
"And the colours of red and gold are important," Narcissa added. "Harry, a Red King, the very heir of Gryffindor, seeking to become spiritually gold ... to turn from a base man into a golden, enlightened being. You know, Alchemical Adepts are often known as seekers. Harry is a very talented Quidditch player, in a very interesting position, is he not? Spending all his game life in pursuit of something golden. Coincidence? I think we can agree not."
Hermione had no idea what to say to this torrent of information. She shook her head in wonder. "But what about me? Where could I fit in?"
Narcissa considered her a moment. "The Mercury principle seeks, above all else in it's existence, to join with the Sulphur principle. Tell me, how did you and Harry meet?"
Hermione thought back. It seemed a lifetime ago now, but she smiled fondly at the memory as it reached the surface of her mind. "On the train to Hogwarts in our first year. Neville Longbottom had lost his toad. I was trying to help him find it. We checked in Harry's compartment ... and that's how we met."
"Is that a lie?" asked Narcissa, incredulously.
"Why would I lie about that?" asked Hermione, affronted.
"Forgive me, Miss Granger," said Narcissa, softly. "It's just that ... well, the toad is a symbolic representation of the base matter for the alchemical Work. Some treaties are even written from the perspective of a toad, so to find one as part of your story is truly extraordinary.
"For if we assume for a moment that you are Alchemical Mercury, you would have been searching for that base matter to join with, to achieve your fundamental life desire ... and you found it in Harry, via a toad. You may have been searching for an actual creature but, in reality, though you couldn't possibly have known it, you were actually looking for Harry. And the alchemical forces led you right to him, made sure it happened ... ensured that the White Queen would meet her Red King."
Hermione felt her world stop spinning a moment. It gave her dizzying mind a chance to catch up. Narcissa was looking at her in such a way that she wildly expected her to bow down and offer her a prayer. Her words rang and swam and hit home with such truth that Hermione was shaken to her very foundations.
It was like she'd known this truth for her entire life, that it had been sitting there just beneath her surface, waiting to be considered and understood. The revelation now was simply the most wonderfully incredible set of words that Hermione ever heard in all her days. She thought she might explode with the euphoria surging through her in violent waves.
"Harry's Patronus is a stag, I believe," Narcissa went on, hinting that there was more still. "A homage not only to his father's spirit, but also as a representation of his part in the alchemical principle. In alchemy, the stag has, as its mate, the unicorn."
Hermione's face dropped a moment. "But my Patronus isn't a unicorn. It's an otter."
"Merely a symbol of your own self-doubt," Narcissa replied, dismissively. "An animal safe and unassuming. But you have been blessed by Lily Potter now ... and can you guess what her Patronus was? In any case, you are an intelligent witch ... you should be aware that a Patronus can change, or even be chosen. But even with a Patronus as an otter ... that is not too far away from a certain surname I know you covet. It was another pointer for you, to the direction you needed to go."
"Oh ..." said Hermione, blinking in surprise as understanding dawned again. It was a nice thought, but still ... it wasn't good enough for her. She had to know ... so she drew her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
Hermione crumpled to the floor, overcome by emotion, as soon as the horn materialised from the end of her wand. She was so overwhelmed by a wave of such sheer joy that her knees buckled beneath her. The silvery unicorn gambolled around her a while, before nuzzling gently at her bushy crown. She reached up to pet it a moment, before it dissipated away. She was sorely tempted to re-cast the spell.
"Well, that clears that up," said Narcissa, cheerfully. "Congratulations, Miss Granger, you are officially the luckiest witch on the planet!"
Hermione grinned back at her. "I already knew that. I'm going to marry Harry Potter for Merlin's sake! What more do I need?"
Narcissa turned to her with a serious look. "You need to make it official. You need to join your life energies, your very soul, with Harry's."
"But I don't know how I can do that," Hermione cried, bitterly. "I'm still married to that fucking Weasley, aren't I?"
"A Marriage Bond it a standard rite, one broken too often to bear much thinking about," Narcissa scoffed. "We're talking about the union of two souls here. It goes so much deeper, far beyond any of that."
"Then we can do it? We can break my Bond without Ron agreeing?" asked Hermione, hopefully. "Please tell me that we can."
"We can," Narcissa confirmed. Hermione's heart took flight and she actually whooped in triumph. "By preparing you for an Alchemical Wedding we can join you and Harry on a highly spiritual level, something indescribably beyond a standard wedding rite. We would be unifying both the alchemical principles that you and Harry represent. And when we do, it will cause a fundamental change in you both. You ought to be aware of that before we proceed."
"How so?" asked Hermione, cautiously.
"Alchemists who stick only to the earthly practices merely chase the transformation of base metals into gold, of the creation of the Elixir of Life, and of the making of a Philosopher's Stone," Narcissa explained. "But Harry's is a more spiritual path ... and his full union with you will represent the completion of his Opus Alchymicum. He would, in a metaphysical sense, become a Philosopher's Stone. Or, more precisely, you both would ... together.
"And the power that you could wield like that ... well, it could very likely change the world. It might not be the easiest of burdens to carry, for either of you."
"Harry and I will carry it together," said Hermione, confidently. "I speak on behalf of my ... Red King ... I speak for us both. This is something we both dearly want ... and I feel totally ready now. So, where do we go from here?"
"We have to convince Harry to show us his alchemical space," said Narcissa. "It is probably hidden somewhere within the Palace, and I doubt he would have told anyone that it even exists, such is the secretive nature of alchemy. But that is the only place that such a ritual could be performed."
Hermione smiled. "Perhaps Harry has hidden it, but I have a little friend who can see through even Harry's cleverest ruses."
"You're talking about the girl ... the Seer ... my granddaughter."
Hermione blinked in shock. She hadn't thought, stupidly hadn't made the connection from Draco to Narcissa. She took a breath. "Yes. Her name is Celesca. I'm sure she can find this secret Cell of Harry's if he wont tell us where it is."
"Then take me to her."
"Not before I speak to her mother," Hermione insisted. "If Luna is happy for you to see her, then I'll allow it. If not, I'll ask her by myself."
"That girl is my granddaughter," Narcissa reminded Hermione in a stern tone. "She represents the future of the Malfoy line. This current state of being in the world is only temporary. The Ancient and Noble Houses will be restored ... and this girl will stand to inherit my title of Lady Malfoy when they are."
"That may all be true," said Hermione, firmly. "But she is also the product of your son raping Luna Lovegood. I can't, and I wont, ignore that. Luna is a good friend of mine. Besides, this is my house ... or it very soon will be ... and what I say here, goes."
Narcissa looked shrewdly at Hermione. "Very well, my Lady. I make a formal request to see my granddaughter. Will you please petition her mother on my behalf?"
"I shall," Hermione agreed with a curt little nod. "But if she refuses, I will honour her wishes. In the meantime, what else can I do to prepare for this ritual?"
"You can formally ask Harry to take you to his Senior Knights," Narcissa smiled. "After all, you will be seeking their ratification of my personal nomination, for you to be bound with him ... as his eternal wife."