The Replenishment Decree

Once again finding Hermione awake before him surprised Harry as he made his way downstairs for his morning ritual.

“Tea, Hermione?” he called through her door.

“Yes, thanks, Harry!”

When Hermione joined Harry half an hour later, she found the Daily Prophet waiting for her on the table, open to the section with announcements about the newly formed couples courtesy of the Replenishment Decree. As Harry expected, Hermione let out a strangled gasp.

“They have Draco marrying who?”

“Yes, I thought that might be unexpected. I do believe he was hoping to be married before they could assign him to anyone but, clearly he didn’t get that done in time.”

“Seriously, Harry. Who is Margaret Runcorn? Is she Albert Runcorn’s daughter? Is her father the Death Eater?”

Harry shook his head slowly.

“No?” She questioned. It took a moment for realization to dawn and her eyes to widen, “his wife?”

Harry nodded solemnly at his friend.

“So this is to be a punishment for some people. I mean, why else would they pair an eighteen year old with a widow? Runcorn had to be about forty-five or fifty, yeah? And Gregory Goyle with Rebecca Thicknesse, Pius’ widow?”

“Probably,” Harry agreed. “Uh, listen, Hermione. There’s one more thing you should read.” Harry handed her the Quibbler, also folded open to a specific section.

“Oh? Has Xenophilius been allowed to print again?” she took the magazine from him and started to read before a quiet, “oh,” came out of her mouth and she took a seat. “So, I guess the Ministry did release our names. The Prophet just hasn’t found the right angle to print them yet. Hmm.”

The Quibbler has it on good authority that one of the soon-to-wed-couples is none other than Hermione Granger and Narcissa Black, the recently divorced former wife of Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. Miss Granger and Mistress Black were both previously announced as betrothed to Ronald Weasley and Lucius Malfoy respectively. One source from within the Ministry alerted The Quibbler staff that the two witches went to the Department for Magical Law Enforcement together earlier this week to request that they be allowed to wed one another. The Ministry employee said the two were quite polite but very firm about their request and seemed to have been seeing one another “for a good while” before the Decree was announced. Mistress Black was heard complaining that the Decree had ruined the romantic proposal she had planned for Miss Granger and the two have been spotted together quite frequently in the last few days but not at all in the previous months. Molly Weasley, mother of Ronald, spoke with a reporter for another wizarding publication to say that she was certain Miss Granger would be following whatever the Ministry told her to do. We will keep readers up to date on the situation as necessary.

The Quibbler also notes that Andromeda Tonks, née Black, widow of Ted Tonks who was killed during the recent war, has been heard lamenting the Decree herself. Mrs. Tonks is raising her orphaned grandson who lost both of his parents, Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin, to Death Eaters in May and has serious concerns about being forced to marry and bring someone into their lives during this tumultuous time. The staff at The Quibbler sends our thoughts and good hopes to Mrs. Tonks and her young grandson, Teddy.

“Alright then, Hermione?” Harry asked quietly.

“I am,” she smiled slightly. “It’s true that I’m going to marry Narcissa and that we were quite firm with the Ministry about it. The only part that’s inaccurate is what Mrs. Weasley said but I can’t help that. And,” she said with a shrug, “I’m not going to worry about it this morning. I have plans with Narcissa and she’ll be here any minute.” Hermione finished her tea, stood, and handed The Quibbler back to Harry.

“Enjoy your date, Hermione. I’ll see you later,” Harry smirked as she headed back upstairs to finish getting ready.

Hermione heard a knock on the door a short while later and raced downstairs to answer it.

“Hi,” she gulped, eyes slowly traveling down Narcissa’s frame.

“Good morning,” Narcissa leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss on Hermione’s cheek. “Surprised to see me in muggle attire?” She whispered before leaning back. When her eyes met Hermione’s again, Narcissa reached up to wipe away a smudge of lipstick.

“Not surprised, no,” Hermione said quietly as she stepped forward and slipped her arms around Narcissa’s waist, her voice dropping in register, “just appreciative of the excellent fit and style.”

Chuckling, Narcissa questioned, “who knew the good girl of the Golden Trio would be such an accomplished flirt?”

“The good girls always are, Narcissa.” Hermione stepped back, smiling broadly. “Ready to head into Muggle London with me?”

Narcissa simply nodded and took a deep breath as the two headed down the steps.

“You’ve never really done the muggle thing, eh?”

“I haven’t, no. I was raised in a strictly pure-blood, wizarding manner. Muggles and muggle-borns were not to be mixed with. Today’s adventure is quite new to me but I do love art and I would like to learn about things that interest you, Hermione.”

Still smiling, Hermione bumped her shoulder gently into Narcissa’s, “Then I think we’re going to have a lovely date today. I thought we could take the Tube over, there’s a station just on the corner here. That okay?”

“The tube?”

“Mm-hmm,” Hermione smiled and gestured to the stairs leading beneath the street.

“That sign says Underground, Hermione.”

“Yes,” the younger woman said slowly, the realization that Narcissa truly had zero experience in this world starting to dawn. “The Tube is an underground form of muggle transportation. It’s a train that runs through a tunnel beneath the streets. It’s mostly called the Underground or, sometimes I guess you could call it the subway but that’s an American thing mostly. In some places they call it the metro. Some stations are big, like King’s Cross--which we’ll go through, actually--but some are just little stops like this one.”

“And we go down those stairs and get on a train?”

“Sort of, yes?”

Narcissa’s eyes narrowed.

“Trust me. You’ll see. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you the underground is the fanciest of transports but it works, it’s not expensive, and it’s fairly quick. We’ll take this train on the Victoria Line down to Oxford Circus and then switch over to the Bakerloo Line.”

“We have to change trains? Underground? Muggles do that without magic?”

Hermione simply blinked at Narcissa and realized how much the older woman truly didn’t know. Instinctively understanding that she had to treat Narcissa’s ignorance delicately, Hermione was careful not to embarrass the other woman, “I’m sorry for being so rude, Narcissa. It’s quite similar to the Hogwarts Express. The main difference is that it makes a bunch of different stops instead of just a direct route. We’ll get off the train when it stops at Oxford Circus. Then we’ll have to go up a set of stairs, cross through the station there and come down on the other side to catch a train that runs on a different set of tracks. There’s many different sets of tracks that run under the city streets. Once you’re down there, I can show you a map and it’ll make so much more sense than my poor explanation.”

Looking excited, Narcissa nodded and moved down the station stairs a little more quickly.

Hermione dug through her wallet to pull out exact change for their tickets for the day and helped Narcissa through the turnstile, then showed her the map. Hermione had been correct, Narcissa completely understood once she saw the layout.

“Oh. This is London. Just...underneath.”

“Exactly.”

“So people and cars can still move about aboveground.”

“Exactly.”

Narcissa nodded and looked around, jumping slightly when the announcement came on to let them know a train was arriving imminently.

“That’s us. It’s not crowded, so just make sure we wait back a few steps to let people off first.”

“Yes, dear,” Narcissa teased, taking Hermione’s elbow with her hand and squeezing affectionately.

Once the pair had boarded and realized the car was nearly empty they decided to seat themselves near the door for the short ride. Side by side on the uncomfortable plastic seats, their shoulders were pressed into one another. Very quickly, Hermione’s foot was tapping the floor at a rapid tempo and she was biting her lip.

“Okay, Hermione, spill it. What’s wrong?”

“Hmm? On, nothing, everything’s fine,” Hermione’s voice was pitched just a bit too high for that to be believable.

Narcissa simply tilted her head, raised her eyebrows, and looked the other woman square in the eyes.

“I just wondered if you’d read the Quibbler this morning is all?”

Narcissa reached over and gently squeezed Hermione’s arm, “I have, actually. You mentioned the other day that you read it each morning so, in fact, I purchased a daily subscription for the Manor.” Narcissa blushed a bit and glanced out the window. The walls rushing by, however, made her a bit queasy and she turned back to look at Hermione. “Are you concerned that they announced our...plans? Would you have rather kept it secret?”

“No! Narcissa, no. Not at all. We agreed yesterday that, even though this is ridiculously rushed, we’re both going into it with our eyes wide open and of our own free wills. I was just upset about what Mrs. Weasley said...that she’s sure I’ll do whatever the Ministry tells me. It makes me seem like a Ministry lapdog and I don’t want you to think that of me.”

“Oh, darling. First of all, I could never think of you as a Ministry lapdog. Our entire situation began with you pushing back against their ridiculous decree. Second, it was only published in The Quibbler. We could get our own announcement published in The Daily Prophet tomorrow morning if we want to. I know Xenophilius’ readership has grown but he still can’t really compete with The Prophet’s audience.”

“Is that something you’re interested in? An engagement announcement?”

“It’s a bit old-fashioned but, then, so am I. And I think, in some ways, you are, too. Our relationship itself notwithstanding, of course.”

Laughing, Hermione agreed, “of course.”

“Well then. Let’s send an engagement announcement into The Prophet today with a picture along with a moderately embellished story about our romance and ask them to include it in tomorrow morning’s edition? I’m sure if the Ministry thinks it supports the Decree, it’ll be front page news. They’re too thick to read between the lines of what you and I can write together. People looking for a spark will find one. Blind followers will simply be left a little...confused but they won’t even know why.”

“Perfect. You’re brilliant, Narcissa. Thank Merlin you never actually tried to help Voldemort, he’d have won for sure,” Hermione realized.

“Shh, keep that to yourself, dear. We have a life to plan and I’d like it to be a safe one.”

Hermione simply smirked in response.

“I do enjoy Trafalgar Square,” Narcissa breathed out as she wrapped her arm around Hermione’s and squeezed gently. “When I was younger and we would bring Bellatrix and later Andromeda to Diagon Alley for school supplies we would always come through Trafalgar Square.”

“Huh, that’s kind of unexpected,” Hermione pointed out.

Stiffening, Narcissa agreed, “Honestly, that is unexpected. Why would all of our pureblood families have come through a very muggle area all together except to, I don’t know, do something untoward. I think actually, that memory is perhaps not what it seems. That’s a shame. I had always remembered Trafalgar Square as a sunny, happy place with fountains and laughter and different kinds of people all side by side.”

“It can be, Narcissa. As a little girl, that is what the square was to you. You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t let them ruin it for you now, years later.” Spotting a green vendor stand, Hermione had an idea, “How about we add another happy memory out here today?”

Narcissa turned her face toward Hermione and nodded quickly.

“Get a coffee with me at that Cabbies Shelter over there and we can stop at a fountain and make a wish and do a little muggle watching before we go to the Gallery.”

“Sounds perfect,” Narcissa agreed.

“Nope, I am not,” Narcissa refused once more with a smile on her face.

“I can’t believe it. We’re to be married in just three and half months and you won’t even tell me your wish,” the younger woman teased, happy to see Narcissa smiling again. The coffee, fountain, and muggle watching had worked to lighten the mood. Hermione stood and picked up both empty coffee cups to dispose of them properly.

Narcissa followed along behind Hermione, appreciating the well-dressed form of the other woman. “Hermione,” she called.

“Yes?” Hermione spun and walked backwards toward the rubbish bin.

“I should’ve said earlier how lovely you look, I’m sorry.” Hermione stopped walking at the lower timbre in the other woman’s voice and her pause in motion allowed Narcissa to catch up. They were standing face to face. Narcissa reached out with one hand to run her fingers along the collar of Hermione’s jacket. “The black leather jacket suits you. It’s a little edgy but the cut softens it nicely and it goes well with those jeans and boots.”

Hermione, trying unsuccessfully to fight the blush rising to her cheeks, threw back, “Who knew the baby of the Black sister was such an accomplished flirt?”

Laughing, Narcissa shook her head and turned Hermione back around as the women headed to the National Gallery, “Oh, everyone, Hermione, everyone.”

“Hermione, I’m telling you, this is incredible. I had no idea we had so much shared culture. This is really a concept to explore. We’ve only been here an hour and half and we’ve found a dozen painters who I know for certain are from,” Narcissa looked around, aware of the possibility of nearby muggles, “our community.”

“I completely agree, Narcissa. Now. Look at me,” Hermione reached for Narcissa’s hand to stop the other woman’s quick pace. Once Narcissa was looking at Hermione, she continued, “I absolutely think your thoughts on this are intriguing and I want to come back with paper and ink to write down the artists' names we’ve found that we want to check on elsewhere. But. We are about to enter my absolute favorite room in the entire Gallery and I’ve never told another soul that before.”

“Oh,” Narcissa gasped, pressing her free hand to her own chest and stepping toward Hermione, “I...oh.” She swallowed. “Let’s go then.” Narcissa adjusted her grip to lace her fingers through Hermione’s as they walked into a room with a high, domed, stained glass ceiling and a beautiful, marble floor shaped as an octagon. There were archways and cutouts around the walls. “Hermione,” Narcissa whispered, “you’re right. This is absolutely perfect.” Narcissa was enthralled by the intricate detail of the woodwork around the ceiling and the carved walls. “So beautiful.”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, “quite beautiful.”

Narcissa looked at the woman in front of her and realized Hermione’s eyes had been on Narcissa the whole time. Narcissa nodded, “Yes. Quite.”

Her hand reached up to tuck a stray curl back behind Hermione’s ear and found itself resting on the curve of her neck, her thumb tracing a path up and down Hermione’s cheek. Hermione’s hand snaked inside Narcissa’s open cardigan and pulled the other woman closer. Sharing breath for a moment, Hermione closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Narcissa’s collar bone. She filled her lungs with air and asked quietly, “Narcissa, may I kiss you?”

“I wish you would, Hermione.” There was no hesitation in Narcissa’s answer.

Hermione lifted her head and looked up to make eye contact once more before stretching on her toes to brush her lips so gently against Narcissa’s once, then again. A shaky breath later found Hermione pressing her lips firmly to her fiancée’s, head tilted, meeting the other woman’s needy pressure with her own.

Both women lost track of time and separated what could have been moments or days later to the sound of a wolf whistle from somewhere in the Gallery.

Hermione hadn’t realized her arms had both found their way around Narcissa and she moved back half a step to link their hands together once more. “Gods, Narcissa, that was…”

“Yes,” Narcissa whispered, eyes wide, lips swollen.

Looking at Narcissa, Hermione grew a little concerned, “Narcissa, are you okay?”

“Am I...am I okay?” Narcissa turned and looked at Hermione.

“Let’s find a restroom so we can fix our lipstick, I have a feeling I’m wearing some right now and all I put on this morning was some Blistex,” Hermione said sweetly, tugging Narcissa by the arm to the nearest sign for a restroom.

Thankfully the restroom was empty and Hermione quickly used magic to lock the door.

“Narcissa, look at me,” Hermione said clearly. “Are you okay? You look a little dazed.”

“Hermione, I am a little dazed! I’ve never been kissed like that in the 35 years I’ve been alive!” She stepped forward and pressed her lips back against Hermione’s, more passionately than before. Hermione hummed into the kiss and instinctively wrapped her arms around the other woman. After a few long moments, they slowed their kisses and gently trailed off.

Placing a chaste kiss on the tip of Narcissa’s nose, Hermione then stepped back and got each of them a cool, damp paper towel.

“I know we’ve only been here a little while, but we can always come back. Would you like to have our photo taken somewhere and then have an announcement sent over to The Prophet?” Hermione asked.

Smirking into the mirror as she fixed her lipstick, Narcissa merely raised her eyebrows at Hermione.

Hermione laughed heartily. “I have a suspicious feeling I’m going to get to know that look and I’m guessing it means you’re plotting something!”

Laughing along, Narcissa simply stated, “We shall see.”

Once the women were outside, Narcissa took Hermione’s hand in her own again and used it to pull the younger woman closer and quietly ask, “Is there a discreet Apparition point around here? I can’t recall other than Diagon Alley a few blocks away.”

Biting her lip for a moment, Hermione then answered in the negative. “I think we’ll just have to go over through the Leaky Cauldron. There’s a lot of muggles about for a weekday.”

“Well, it is gorgeous out. Clear and sunny after that storm yesterday. Is this acceptable, by the way?” Narcissa asked, indicating their joined hands as they headed in the directing of Charing Cross and the Wizarding pub.

Squeezing the hand in hers, Hermione answered, “Completely.”

Holding hands with Narcissa was a revelation for Hermione. She had always felt a bit of an outcast, hadn’t really found herself belonging anywhere other than with Harry and Ron and even that had come with a cost. She had been the third wheel sometimes; forced to choose between them whenever they were at odds with one another. Too academically focused to relate to her peers and painfully aware of it. Though sharing a flat with Harry had come to make Hermione feel closer to him it had also starkly outlined their differences. Spending time with Narcissa the past few days, however, had reminded Hermione that she wasn’t alone in her appreciation of academia, history, and humanity. Physical affection was unusual for her but Hermione found herself thrilled by the simple feel of another palm pressed against her own.

Narcissa stopped abruptly.

“What?” Hermione looked around, instantly prepared for danger and ready to engage.

“Oh, no, no, Hermione, no. Nothing like that,” Narcissa put her free hand on the other woman’s forearm to keep her wand in it’s holster. “I’ve just realized you wanted to have a muggle day and if we go to have a photo taken and an announcement printed where I’d like to go, it’ll ruin your plans.”

Heaving a great sigh, Hermione stepped forward until she was pressed against the other woman and rested her forehead back on Narcissa’s shoulder. “I spent eight months living on the run not all that long ago. I’m still just a bit jumpy in public.”

“I’m sorry, dear,” Narcissa pressed a kiss to the side of Hermione’s head, “I was only thinking of your plans...and our wardrobe.” Narcissa smiled when her last comment had its intended effect and Hermione laughed again.

“Don’t worry about my plans. Anything we were going to do today we can do any time. What about our wardrobe?”

Narcissa narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, contemplating something.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I would really like to go to Place Cachée in Paris for our announcement. I’m just thinking about the best way to get there.”

“Paris? For the afternoon?”

Narcissa shrugged, “yes? We used to Apparate there all the time when I was younger. I didn’t actually realize it was illegal until I was an adult and someone at the Ministry came to Malfoy Manor to tell Lucius to stop Apparating to the middle of Parisian streets.” Narcissa rolled her eyes, “he always liked to be so flashy.”

They had started walking toward the Leaky Cauldron again as they spoke and Narcissa continued a moment later. “Of course, the Malfoys and the Blacks have Manors in the outskirts of Paris so they tried to connect them using the Floo network but they couldn’t make them very secure so I had both Black Manors removed from the list. I think I have a portkey left to get to Paris but I’m not sure I have any left to get home.”

“I’m sorry, Narcissa, but can you pause for a moment?”

Eyebrows shooting up, Narcissa closed her mouth.

“I didn’t mean to offend you but, I don’t understand. How were you able to Apparate all the way to Paris? That’s quite the distance. We were told Apparition between countries was nearly impossible and completely illegal.”

“Illegal, yes. Impossible, not even close. Hermione, you’ve managed to Apparate all over the United Kingdom have you not?”

“A bit, yes. Not all over, but, some.”

Shaking her head at how well the Ministry was able to manipulate children by controlling their education. “I promise to teach you the old way of Apparating if you promise to keep a more open mind, Hermione. You should know it’s not impossible to go between countries. Didn’t you Apparate to Scotland?”

After a moment, Hermione acquiesced, “fair point.”

Laughing, Narcissa stopped Hermione at a crosswalk near the pub.

Leaning into the other woman while they waited for the light to change, Hermione tried to silently lend Narcissa a little of her strength to walk through the Leaky Cauldron. She knew being in close quarters with that many witches and wizards made Narcissa uncomfortable.

As they started to walk, Hermione asked, “Do you like boats?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me, do you like boats?” Hermione asked again, distracting Narcissa with a seemingly obscure question.

“I haven’t all that much experience with them, I suppose. To what end are you asking about boats?”

“I was just thinking,” Hermione paused as she pulled open the door with the hand that wasn’t holding Narcissa’s, “we could Apparate to the port that has the boating company that ferries magically across the Channel. We could take a lovely boat ride on a beautiful, sunny day and have a delightful afternoon in Paris.” Hermione finished the end of her statement so quietly she had to lean into Narcissa’s ear to speak as they walked so no one near them would hear her. It also gave the appearance of the two of them being deep in conversation to discourage any interruptions from pub patrons. Hermione pulled back and looked up at Narcissa’s face with a bright smile.

Matching the smile in front of her, Narcissa agreed that it did sound like quite a delightful idea.

“I’ll Apparate to the port, Hermione, please,” Narcissa said quickly as they arrived in the area of Diagon Alley often used for departing witches and wizards.

“Let’s just agree that until I learn your ‘Old Ways’ you’ll do the Apparating for the both of us?”

Gently grasping Hermione’s chin in her thumb and forefinger, Narcissa leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I don’t know what Draco was talking about all those years, you’re perfectly agreeable to me,” Narcissa teased and laughed at the look of faux outrage on Hermione’s face. “Ready?”

Hermione nodded, still looking up at Narcissa, quiet and contemplative.

Once they arrived at the dock, Hermione looked around, “This isn’t where I was expecting to be!”

“I brought us to a port in Brighton. We can take a ship across to this little wizarding village, Fleur Sur la Mer? And then Apparate from there?”

Hermione simply smiled and nodded in response, completely charmed by Narcissa’s surprise.

The women were settled on a comfortable seat for two near the back of the upper deck for the ride. Being a boating company strictly for use by the magical community, there were some significant differences to a typical ferry. Like the Knight Bus, each passenger had their choice of lounge seating or could find an enclosed cabin in the magically expanded ship’s interior. The upper and lower decks were discreetly partitioned to afford beautiful views and enough privacy for conversation. The seats were well cushioned chairs and couches with coffee and end tables provided and there were House Elves wearing little versions of the sailor’s uniform.

After requesting tea and biscuits from Tibby, Narcissa lounged back onto the couch, relaxing her body for a moment. Hermione took the opportunity to remove her boots and tuck her feet under Narcissa’s leg as she turned sideways to lean back on the arm rest and look at the older woman. “You okay?”

“Just thinking, dear,” Narcissa answered, opening one eye to glance at Hermione. “You?”

“The same.”

Tibby returned with their order but didn’t interrupt, he silently placed it all on the table near the witches and disappeared.

“Do you,” Hermione paused, clearing her throat past the lump that had suddenly formed there. “Narcissa, do you still want to get married?”

Narcissa looked directly into Hermione’s eyes and nodded solemnly. “And you, Hermione? Do you still want to marry me?”

“Yes. Even more than I did just last night.”

“So what are you thinking about that makes you so serious?”

“I’ll tell you, I just can’t find the right way to get it out and it’s going to sound bad.”

“So, you don’t want to marry me,” Narcissa said with no inflection.

Hermione sat up quickly, grabbing Narcissa’s hand. “Stop. Stop right there. I do want to marry you. Remember? Of my own free will.”

“Right,” Narcissa closed her eyes again, “Just say it, then, Hermione, whatever it is.”

“Oh, Narcissa. I was just thinking about you. The way you look today.” Narcissa’s eyes opened, though they remained cloudy as she looked at the younger woman. Hermione’s eyes were darting all over before they found a bird who’s path she followed through the sky. “I’ve seen you for years, you know. At King’s Cross, at Hogwarts, in Diagon Alley, in Knockturn Alley even - though, come to think of it that might not have been you. Anyway. I’ve seen you for years but there’s something different about you today. And maybe a little yesterday, too. You look a little bit different to me. Not younger but...brighter, somehow? Your smile earlier when you were teasing me about being agreeable? Your smile lit up your whole face, Narcissa. Your eyes were the most glorious shade of blue. I think you’re quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ve always noticed your beauty but today it’s just...I can't explain it. It’s different. It’s...warmer. And I just want. To. I just want to hold you.” Hermione’s eyes fell shut with the end of her whispered confession.

After a moment, Hermione heard Narcissa sniffle and her eyes flew open to look at her fiancée who said through her tears, “Well, I’m right here.”

Hermione fit herself into the place next to Narcissa, a mirror of how they had spent much of the previous afternoon.

Narcissa’s sniffles slowed and she tilted Hermione’s face up to meet her own.

“No one has ever said anything like that to me before, Hermione. Thank you,” she exhaled as she pressed their lips together once more.

“Today has been perfect,” Hermione declared as they cleaned up their lunch and got ready to exit the boat.

“And there’s so much of it left to experience. Let’s see if we can’t keep it there,” Narcissa teased again.

“Getting an engagement photo taken with the most beautiful witch in Europe? Gee...I don’t know. That’s a real hardship,” Hermione teased back.

“Well played, Miss Granger. A compliment and a complaint together,” Narcissa turned to look at Hermione when no response was forthcoming. The younger woman was standing still, head tilted once more, deep in contemplation. “What is it, dear?” Narcissa stepped toward her.

“Granger-Black, I think, sounds good. Black-Granger sounds like you’re describing the name Granger. Or just Black. We could both be Lady Black, right? Or would that not be possible with pureblood traditions?”

Narcissa abruptly put down the plates she was moving and placed her hands on either side of Hermione’s face, pulling the younger woman in for a fierce kiss. “I don’t know how you have such an intriguing and brilliant mind but I...am very thankful to have it in my life...and Granger-Black sounds perfect to me.”