The Replenishment Decree

6 - The Spark is A Flame

Hermione gripped Narcissa’s forearm with both hands as she looked around Place Cachée with wide eyes and a smile on her face.

“It feels different than Diagon Alley, older somehow.”

“I don’t actually know how long either place has been in existence but I definitely get that feeling here, too. The photographer’s studio is just up ahead but…”

Hermione glanced around before pulling Narcissa toward the storefront they were passing, “But what?”

“I find myself wishing we had stopped for a change of clothing before we came for this. I’m not at all convinced I want to publish a photo dressed in a Muggle outfit like I’m wearing. A cardigan and jeans? It’s not my usual style.”

Nodding and biting her lip, Hermione looked around casually. “I have two ideas. First, there’s a robe shop across the street. We can go and get ourselves outfitted in some of the most beautiful robes around, I’m sure. Muggle Paris is known for fashion, I imagine wizarding Paris is the same.”

Smirking, Narcissa asked, “And second?”

“Second, we could leave you in those,” Hermione paused, glancing around and biting her lip, “sinful jeans, and transfigure your tops into something more appropriate for an engagement photo.”

By the time Hermione finished speaking, the women were standing face to face, quite close to one another. Narcissa glanced down at Hermione’s lips, tongue sneaking out to moisten her own. “Sound suggestions. Let’s do both.” She leaned down and captured Hermione's lips in a quick kiss, “Mmm. Ready?” Narcissa stepped back and grasped Hermione’s hand once more, smiling playfully at the younger woman’s starstruck expression.

Tripping into the store just behind the taller woman, Hermione reminded herself that she needed to be a good sport about shopping, especially because it was her own idea.

“Lady Malfoy! Welcome back to Maison Capenoir! It has been too long,” a handsome man exclaimed as Narcissa stepped nearer the counter. He was tall and blonde, built similarly to Lucius and wore a clearly expensive and well-tailored formal black robe. Hermione hated him.

“Ah, Rafael, it’s lovely to see you again,” Narcissa leaned forward and air-kissed both of his cheeks, “but it’s actually Black, not Malfoy.”

“Finally! That lout is gone? For good?”

“For good,” Narcissa acknowledged, “and that is actually why I’m here. If I may?” She pulled Hermione forward to stand next to her.

Rafael waved his arms in a hurrying manner.

Laughing, Narcissa stretched her right arm across Hermione’s shoulders, “I would like to introduce you to my fiancée, Hermione Granger.”

“Mademoiselle,” Rafael said, leaning forward to take Hermione’s hand and place a kiss on her knuckles. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. May I be so bold as to ask how this happened?”

“Of course, you silly man,” Narcissa laughed again, “but first, you release my betrothed!”

Hermione couldn’t help but grin at the playful banter between the two. Rafael released her hand as asked but threw himself dramatically into the nearest chair, arm draped across his forehead. “Are there no beautiful women who will ever look my way?” he moaned pitifully.

Still laughing, Narcissa replied, “There have been no shortage of beautiful women looking your way, Rafe, but you only ever seem to have eyes for the beautiful men.”

He, too, burst out laughing and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckling along a bit.

“Oh, Narcissa Black, it really has been too long.”

The old friends looked at one another for a long moment, still smiling, appreciating being in one another’s presence after such a time.

Finally, Narcissa took a deep breath and squeezed the shoulders beneath her arm. “I agree that it has been entirely too long and I promise that we’ll have you to the Manor for dinner soon, we are actually here for some assistance.”

“I’m going to hold you to that dinner,” Rafael said, pointing at the women. “Now, what do you need?”

Narcissa turned to Hermione, encouraging the younger woman to speak what was on her mind.

“Well, um, we’re going to put an Engagement Announcement in The Daily Prophet tomorrow and we came to have it done here, on the Place Cachée, but we want to include a photo and we aren’t really camera ready today. Do you have dress robes here that would complement one another and look good in a newsprint?”

He made a face that Hermione assumed meant he thought their Engagement Announcement was a cute idea and asked them to have a seat while he put a rack together. After a few moments, he called out from somewhere behind them in the store, “Are you sure you want dress robes for the photo? I can put you in great muggle outfits similar to Hermione’s style right now.”

Hermione looked at Narcissa, eyebrows up. She didn’t really have a preference, she wanted Narcissa to be happy and feel confident and comfortable.

“We’d like to go with both options, actually!” she shouted back.

“I knew you’d say that,” Rafael said from right next to her as he appeared with an actual clothing rack filled with choices.

Narcissa, grinning, looked at Hermione just in time to watch the color drain from her face.

“Not a fan of shopping?”

“Not particularly,” Hermione hedged, “and that looks like an awful lot of trying on.”

“Darling, it’s not. Listen, I love to shop. I think it’s fun to try on different robes and gowns. What if I try on the robes that we think will work best and, once we’ve narrowed down my choices, we can find just a few for you that would go with those? That limits your having to try everything on but I still get to and it guarantees that our robes will complement one another.”

“Oh, Cissa, that sounds much better to me,” Hermione leaned forward to capture the other woman’s lips in a heartfelt kiss.

“Good! Then I shall start with...the green one, of course,” Narcissa laughed.

As she tried on the various styles of dress robes in a few different colors, Hermione explained the Replenishment Decree to Rafael.

“So, I’m sorry, I’m not understanding something. Your government actually told everyone that you have to be married now and you have to produce children immediately?” Rafael was bewildered.

“Yes! It’s absolutely unacceptable! Women are not here to be treated like baby-making facto--” Hermione stopped speaking mid-word.

Rafael turned to see what had happened and realized Hermione was staring slack-jawed in the direction of the fitting rooms. Smiling gently at the adorable reaction, Rafael turned to see Narcissa himself.

“Narcissa,” Hermione rose out of her chair and moved slowly toward the woman frowning into the mirror, “you are a vision. These are the robes you should wear today for the photo. You look incredible.”

Fully blushing, Narcissa turned to meet Hermione’s eyes. The younger woman’s pupils were dilated and Narcissa could see Hermione’s pulse fluttering in a vein in her neck.

“You like this look?” She was still self-conscious. One could not, after all, live with a creature like Lucius Malfoy and not lose a little confidence.

“To be clear,” Hermione said, “I like you. And you, in anything, are beautiful. But these robes do add a nearly ethereal quality to your beauty. I love the cut out in the back that shows your skin and the subtle green shimmer on the black robes is perfect for you.”

“I want to kiss you right now,” Narcissa said, reaching for Hermione’s hands.

“Hold onto it!” Rafael interrupted, “I know you want to kiss her. She wants to kiss you, too but save it for the photos, ladies. We need to build a little tension to get a great engagement shoot.”

Stepping back, Narcissa questioned, “We?”

“Yes, we.” Rafael smiled as if he had a secret, “Don’t you remember our photo studio in the back? We’ve been doing more and more advertisements lately. I can take your announcement photos and develop them right here. Now. Hermione. Go try these two robes on. Do the green first because you’re going to like the black one better. Don’t argue just go.”

Hermione listened.

Rafael was right.

He clapped his hands together twice, “Perfect! Now, let’s fix your hair a little nicer, ladies, and take some photos in these gorgeous robes! Then we’ll get you in some street clothes and finish up.”

“Hermione just pretend,” Rafael rolled his eyes.

“I can’t,” she said, crossing her arms more tightly across her exposed midriff, Hermione’s brow furrowed and her lips drew together in a scowl. “The robes were formal but I felt like I’d done it before.”

“Raf, if she isn’t comfortable, she can’t just fake it. She’s not an experienced model. Hermione, if you don’t want to wear that for the photographs, just go put your own shirt back on. I thought you looked great today, remember? And I think our muggle clothes still balance each other out whichever shirt you choose.” Narcissa stood close to Hermione, speaking quietly to her.

Rafael had taken Hermione’s shirt and replaced it with a white crop top to go under her black leather jacket. She still had on the same jeans and boots from earlier. Narcissa had found her own leather jacket - black, also, of course - and had put a flowing white top underneath paired with dark jeans though she stood barefoot at the moment.

Smiling a tiny grin, and tilting her head, Hermione asked which top Narcissa thought looked better.

“I think they convey two different messages. The other top tells people you’re still Hermione Granger, Brains of the Golden Trio. You’re the same sensible girl they think you are.” Narcissa paused, stepping even closer to whisper into Hermione’s ear, “But this top tells them you’re all grown up, darling. This one tells people you haven’t just got a good head on your shoulders but you’re not afraid to use it.” Narcissa’s hand slid down Hermione’s arm and she laced their fingers together as if they were about to start dancing. “If you can convince yourself to feel powerful in this outfit, Hermione. It won’t just be a spark we light but a whole damn torch.”

Unbeknownst to either woman, Rafael had his photographer take a number of photos of the two of them talking in that moment. Hermione’s heels put her nearer to Narcissa’s shoeless height and they seemed to forget the men were in the room when they spoke to one another.

Hermione closed her eyes once more and pressed her forehead gently to Narcissa’s. Narcissa wrapped her free arm carefully around Hermione’s waist and started humming.

Hermione pulled her head back and opened her eyes to meet Narcissa’s ice blue ones. “Dance with me, Hermione. Just a little.”

“You are far too charming, Mistress Black. Far too charming,” the younger woman teased as she moved with Narcissa’s body.

After a few turns around the set, their dancing grew silly and Narcissa spun Hermione out and back into her arms only to dip the younger woman back and place a sweet kiss on her neck as Hermione laughed heartily.

“Okay, dear, I should probably find some shoes so we can take a few photos and get this done,” Narcissa said regretfully as she righted Hermione.

Rafael blushed and looked away before shrugging and admitting that they had taken a ton of pictures of them while they spoke and danced. “Honestly, I doubt we’ll get anything better. Let us develop these while you two go see the sights of Place Cachée. Come back in a little while and Paulo should have something for you.”

“What do you say, Hermione? Would you rather go put your shirt back on and take some more pictures?”

Hermione stepped back and turned away from everyone for a moment to think. Hands wringing, she turned back and spoke, “I’m not very comfortable in this top just standing here but, honestly, I wasn’t thinking about it at all while I danced with you, Narcissa. Let’s go to a few shops and come back later to see what the photographs look like.”

“Only if you’re sure. I don’t want to coerce you into something you’ll regret,” Narcissa said quietly.

Hermione smiled softly and shook her head. “No, I don’t regret anything. Thank you for the clothing and taking the photos, we’ll see you in a bit. Let’s go for a walk.” She held her hand out to the other woman and laughed when she looked down at Narcissa’s bare feet, “I guess let’s go for a walk after you find a pair of shoes to wear?”

Once the women made it out to the street they walked slowly, hands linked and enjoyed some simple window shopping and spending time together. Hermione loved all the old buildings and plaques marking historical events in France’s magical history. After half an hour spent in Le Corbeau Mystique looking for an owl of the species Harry wanted, Narcissa reminded Hermione that they had their own errand to take care of.

“I thought we did? Rafael and Paulo are developing the photos, right?”

“Yes but they won’t write up the announcement or design the way it’s going to look in The Prophet. For that, if you’re amenable, I’d like to visit Le Stylo est Plu Puissant on the next street over.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize. Yes, let’s go,” Hermione smiled.

The women made their way through a crowd watching a street performer and turned into the shop. As the door closed behind them, Hermione took a deep breath and sank into the most relaxed posture Narcissa had seen from her all day.

“What just happened?”

“I love this smell,” Hermione admitted, flushing with embarrassment. “Ink and parchment and book bindings and melting wax.”

Narcissa scratched her nose to hide her grin; she found Hermione’s quirks ridiculously adorable.

“As do I, Mademoiselle,” said a mousy little woman from behind a large, wooden desk. “How may I help you?” Her accent was much thicker than Rafael’s and Hermione was reminded so strongly of Fleur Delacour she almost missed the other woman.

“Madame du Beaumont, bonjour,” Narcissa said respectfully before continuing in English for Hermione’s benefit, “my fiancée, Hermione Granger, and I, Narcissa Black, are here to request the printing of an Engagement Announcement, Invitations, and Thank You notes for our wedding ceremony on the twenty-first of December. We would be greatly honored to have them printed here, at Le Stylo est Plu Puissant, for the pen is surely mightier.”

Hermione, wide-eyed, was looking back and forth between Narcissa and the tiny woman at the desk. She was utterly bewildered at the subservient tone and gracious request.

“And why should I do such a thing for two witches of the British empire?”

“We humbly acknowledge that there is not a printing shop in the United Kingdom, or Europe, that can match the beauty of your work. We also hope to be an example for others to live their lives as they wish, seeking only the approval of their own selves and the certainty in their own souls that they are doing what is best for them.”

Hermione understood there was some political history here to which she was not privy. Though determined to ask Narcissa about it later, she hoped to merely continue observing.

“And you, young woman? You agree that we are the best?”

“I agree with Narcissa’s statements and support her request to have our wedding needs printed here,” Hermione gulped, hoping she met the challenge.

“You are aware, Narcissa Black, that I personally declined the invitation request 18 years ago, are you not?”

“I am,” Narcissa said with a nod.

“Yet you come asking again? And for a different spouse. I see I was right back then not to print for you. What makes you think this will be any different?”

Hermione could feel Narcissa tense up and watched her eyes fill with tears. No matter how hard she tried to bite her lips together, Hermione couldn’t remain silent. She stepped in front of her fiancée and spoke quickly, “By the very nature of who we are as people, this union is different. Narcissa has a choice whether or not to marry me. We are both adults making this decision for ourselves. I will never disrespect or dishonor Narcissa or her position in my life. If you decline our request, so be it, but let it be because I’m not worthy to have it done here. Don’t blame your current reticence on abuse Narcissa has taken in her past, it’s barbaric.”

“Mademoiselle Granger, was it?”

Hermione nodded, feeling Narcissa step closer to her back. The taller woman rested her right hand on Hermione’s right hip and waited for the printer to speak again.

Madame du Beaumont came around her imposing desk and stood facing Hermione and Narcissa, “Do you understand why I would not abide your fiancée’s request eighteen years ago?”

“No, Madame. We haven’t discussed her first wedding beyond it being arranged for her by her parents.”

“There was a war brewing in magical Britain. There were forces at work who were trying to pull from old alliances and drag us all into the melee. The Houses of Malfoy and Black were, to my knowledge, on the wrong side of that war. Had I agreed to provide any services for that wedding it would have been seen as support for their side.”

“Which, honestly, Madame, makes perfect sense. However, these are different times. Britain’s just beaten Voldemort for good because of Narcissa’s bravery, might I add,” Hermione reached behind with her left hand and tangled her fingers with Narcissa’s. “We do humbly make our request.”

“Hmm. You call me barbaric but humbly request my services,” the shop owner mused quietly, “I must say, I do appreciate the protective nature you’ve shown, Mademoiselle Granger, and the poetic description of why you came here, Mademoiselle Black. Certainty of their souls that they are doing what is best for them.” Looking out the window, Madame du Beaumont tapped her fingers along her lip before nodding to herself. “Oui, I will print your requests. When is the wedding?”

“Thank you, Madame,” Narcissa offered quietly, “we are honored. Our wedding will be held on the Winter Solstice, December the twenty-first.”

“You live in Britain and the wedding is only three and a half months away so we will do your Announcement today before you go home. I need photographs. We will include the date,” the printer was very business-like in her tone once her decision to print had been made. “Have you selected a location?”

“We have not,” Narcissa answered, “nor have we asked anyone yet to preside. We have had photos taken, just up the road in fact. We can get them and bring them back for you now if you’d like them while you work?”

“Yes, quickly now, I have a concept.” With that, the mousy little woman turned and sat back at her desk quickly pulling out parchment and a variety of inkwells and quills.

Narcissa tugged Hermione onto the sidewalk with her but before they even took a step toward Maison Capenoir she wrapped her arms tightly around Hermione’s waist. Reflexively, Hermione wrapped hers around Narcissa’s shoulders, “While I have come to completely adore hugging you, Narcissa, I have to ask what this is for?”

Narcissa sniffled, her face pressed into Hermione’s neck, “I don’t know if it’s just Harry’s Hero Complex or not but you just keep coming to my defense. No one. No one else in my entire life has done that Hermione. I was ready to apologize to Madame du Beaumont and leave but you spoke up for me.”

Tears sprang to Hermione’s eyes. How had no one ever made this woman feel worthy of defense? No wonder she was the lone wolf who won the war; her allegiance could only be held by the one person who never betrayed her, her son.

“Narcissa,” Hermione whispered into the other woman’s ear, “I am so sorry you’ve had thirty-six years of being undefended. I will speak up for you whenever you can’t. I will not betray you. It’s the very foundation of friendship to defend and protect one another.”

Friendship? We’re getting married in three months, Narcissa thought.

Hermione pressed a kiss to Narcissa’s temple before they pulled apart and walked side by side back to Rafael’s shop.

Rafael was obviously waiting for them when the women walked back into Maison Capenoir. He squealed and clapped his hands in excitement as he begged them to hurry into the back to see their photos and listen to his idea.

Laid out on the counter were far more pictures than they would use in the paper, it looked like they had developed forty or fifty photographs!

“I know, I know, it’s too much,” Paulo said, “but you two are a gorgeous couple.”

Without even realizing it, as they looked at the photos together, Narcissa and Hermione had shifted into one another’s personal space. When Hermione looked up at Rafael across the counter she realized she had her arm back around Narcissa’s waist and the other woman had done the same. Deciding to just enjoy feeling comfortable, Hermione smiled up at her fiancée and asked which photo was her favorite.

“I couldn’t possibly choose,” Narcissa laughed, “I think this one, looking at each other in formal robes with the fog around the floor and the edges is stunning but I can’t help but smile when I look at this one where you’re laughing so hard after we danced and I dipped you.”

“I love those, too, and this one.” Hermione picked up a photo of them with the foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, just breathing. Even with the magical development, the only movement in the photo was the barely perceptible rise and fall of their chests.

“Oh, goodness, yes,” Narcissa exhaled as she carefully took the photo from Hermione’s hand.

“Are you ready to hear my idea?” Rafael asked. When the women nodded, he continued, “I think you should use a bunch of photos for the Announcement, not just the traditional formal shot. You two aren’t traditional, are you?”

Chuckling a little, Hermione answered, “Actually, we both kind of are but we know what you mean.”

Rolling his eyes, Rafael started moving the photos around, “I left them, sorry, Paulo, we left them haphazardly on the counter so as not to influence your choices but this is what I think the photo montage should look like.”

When he was finished arranging, there was a lineup of eight images starting with a very formal photo of the witches standing side by side in their dress robes, not touching one another. Next to it was another image in their formal robes, but this time they were smiling at one another, it was followed by the photo Narcissa had pointed out a few moments earlier where they were surrounded by fog and were only looking at one another. As the witches in the photos shifted, they maintained similar poses. The next series of photos was in their muggle clothes and, Narcissa had to admit, they made for a very photogenic couple. In the first one, Hermione was seated, looking down and pulling on her shoe while Narcissa stood behind her, one hand gently playing with her hair and a happy, little smile on her face. The next picture was of the two of them talking, Hermione’s hands wrapped around her own midsection before she grins a little at the other woman and playfully reaches out to grasp Narcissa’s hips as the older woman whispers in her ear. Following that was a picture of the two of them starting to dance, both smiling shyly at the other before stepping closer to press their cheeks together. The second to last image was of Narcissa spinning Hermione out and back into her arms and then dipping her and kissing her neck while Hermione laughed joyfully and it was followed by the final image, the one of them resting their foreheads together and just breathing.

Leaning even more into one another, the witches both nodded. Finally, Narcissa spoke, “Rafael, Paulo, this is absolutely perfect. We can’t thank you enough.”

“Did Claudette agree to print for you? Are you taking these to her?” Paulo asked, wide-eyed.

Narcissa answered in the affirmative, sharing her shock that Claudette du Beaumont had taken their request, as Hermione looked more closely at the photographs they wouldn’t be using for their Engagement Announcement.

“Can we keep these?” she asked when the conversation lulled.

“You may take all of these photographs, Mademoiselle Granger. Don’t mix them up, Claudette is a tough cookie but your Announcement will be a masterpiece. I recommend getting your own copy to frame.”

“What a lovely idea, I think we shall!” Narcissa smiled. “Now, can you send this bill to my account at Le Banque du Magique or shall I go take some Bezant out?”

“I still have your account here active, Narcissa, no concerns about money,” Rafael answered, “Now, get those photos to Claudette before she comes here for them herself!”

As the women exited the shop, laughing at Rafael’s silliness, he called out, “And we expect to be invited!”

The women quietly re-entered Le Stylo est Plus Puissant to give Madame du Beaumont the photos and found her waiting with a smile on her face. “Your Announcement practically created itself once I sat down, now, let me see your photo.”

Narcissa took a deep breath and raised her chin to answer, “Madame, we have a less-than-traditional idea we would like to present with our photos if we may?”

Holding her hand out for the photos, the mousy woman nodded.

“Instead of one formal photograph, we would like our announcement to have a photo montage starting with the traditional side-by-side pose and then showing seven other images from a photo session we did this afternoon with Rafael and Paulo.”

One eyebrow raised, Claudette slowly looked through the photographs in her hand smiling when she saw the print of Hermione laughing as Narcissa dipped her and pressing her hand to her heart as she looked long at the image of the two witches standing forehead to forehead simply breathing together.

“Yes. I will put this together. This is beautiful, absolutely stunning imagery. I used your words from earlier to write up the Announcement, embellishing a little here and there for more prose.”

“Thank you, Madame,” Hermione said politely.

“Before I finish, I just have one question.”

The couple waited, eyebrows raised.

“Narcissa, how do you feel about this engagement?”

Taken aback by the unexpected query, Narcissa took a moment to gather her thoughts. She finally spoke, “I choose, of my own free will, to marry this woman. To become Hermione Granger’s wife. She is kind and pure and noble, able to look past my faults and see the good I have tried to do. She has a heart like no other and...and…” Narcissa swallowed, “and I have a deep certainty in my soul that I am living life in the best way I can with the best person.” Looking down, Narcissa went over what she had just said again, “Yes, the absolute best person.”

She looked up to see that Madame du Beaumont had already seated herself back behind her desk and was working once more; when she looked at Hermione, she found the other woman smiling tremulously. Narcissa leaned in to quickly kiss Hermione but the younger woman slid her hand up Narcissa’s arm and around the back of her neck to tangle in her hair and hold her in place.

When they parted, Hermione quietly thanked Narcissa.

“Do not leave!” Claudette said, “I shall finish momentarily!”

Hermione used the time to look carefully around the front of the shop at the beautiful parchments on display while Narcissa simply watched Hermione.

“Ah, here you go, ladies,” Claudette said holding out an Announcement that could go directly to The Daily Prophet, “I implore you to read it for accuracy before it is sent to your wizarding press.”

“It’s perfect,” Hermione breathed, having not read a single sentence. She loved the stunning design, an eye-catching mix of fonts framed the changing photos of them women.

“It is completely marvelous,” Narcissa agreed, her eyes lingering on Hermione’s smiling face in one image. She handed the parchment back to its creator and asked what they had to do next.

“Nothing. I will send your Announcement to The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler immediately for printing tomorrow. I will also, if you wish, submit it to Le Cri de La Gargouille for printing here in France?” Narcissa nodded and Claudette continued, “I will work on your invitations shortly and send a sample this week. You need to respond with approval or request for change, please note, this is quite a shortened time period to print three hundred invitations, if you have requests for changes they need to come back quickly. You must owl me with your venue and all of the details of your ceremony and reception in the next few days. Any delay on your part will not give your guests time to respond and plan for your nuptials.”

“Understood, Madame. We will work on those decisions this weekend, thank you,” Narcissa replied.

“Look for my owl,” Claudette said, making her way back around her desk to continue working.

Just before the door closed, Hermione heard, “Congratulations, by the way. You make quite an impressive couple.”

She turned, smiling widely at Narcissa. “We do, don’t we?”

Narcissa smiled, nodding, before she spoke, “Shall we head back to the dock and go home?”

Hermione blushed a bit and looked away, “Well, actually, Cissa, I was rather thinking we might stay in France for the night. At Le Maison de Black?”

Narcissa paused, looking at Hermione’s pink cheeks and the way the younger woman was biting her lip. She stepped forward quickly to hug her fiancée and quietly offered, “I’m sorry, dear. We have to give the house elves a little more preparation time than just a few hours if we’re going to stay the night. They’ve been working in Black Manor in London and haven’t freshened up the Manor over here lately. We will have to come back shortly, however, to check on our invitations and make sure Rafael has been paid...can we stay over then?”

“I look forward to it.”