The Replenishment Decree

Saturday morning found Hermione wide awake and nervously tidying up her rooms too anxious to sleep or even sit still. When Harry passed her door on his way downstairs for tea he tapped lightly just to make sure his friend knew he was awake. Hermione didn’t respond so Harry continued with his typical morning routine collecting the papers, checking for the post, and heading into the kitchen. Unbeknownst to him, Hermione had quietly followed him down and was waiting silently outside the kitchen to hear his reaction to their Engagement Announcement.

She heard him sit down and snap the paper open and, within a few minutes, he chuckled quietly.

Hermione pushed the door open and stood just inside the kitchen biting her lip and wringing her hands. “Well? How does it look? It’s not creased is it?”

“Hermione, it’s gorgeous. Really well done. The pictures of you two are stunning, where did you have them done? I wouldn’t even know where to go for that kind of thing!” He handed her the paper, her own face staring back from the front page...above the fold!

“Oh, after the Gallery yesterday morning we went to Place Cachée in Paris for the afternoon. We ended up buying the robes and having our photos taken and then we went to this woman’s shop and convinced her to do our announcement and invitations and stuff.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Oh. Just Paris for the afternoon, no big deal.”

“Not like that!” Hermione sat next to him reading over the Announcement in the paper. “Narcissa has a Manor outside Paris that’s been in the Black family for years, we didn’t go there yesterday but she’s quite familiar with Place Cachée and there was a particular shop she was keen to have our printing done. We went by wizard ferry out of Brighton actually and it was quite lovely.”

Harry smirked at Hermione before taking a big sip of his tea to hide his face.

“What?” She demanded.

Tilting his head at her, Harry shrugged his shoulders with feigned indifference and casually said, “It seems, by the pink in your cheeks, you had quite a lovely day is all.”

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione carefully placed The Prophet on the table and thought about how to answer her dear friend. Finally, she spoke, “You know, Harry, we really did have a lovely time together. It’s been a very intense few days with Narcissa and totally unexpected. She’s a stunningly beautiful woman who has been focused almost completely on me which is it’s own heady kind of intoxication. On top of that, we’ve formed this fierce pact against the ministry overreach with one another and that just adds to the bond.”

“I just worry that when this is all done you’re going to be left with a marriage you don’t really want to a woman you don’t really want.”

Swallowing hard, Hermione looked away before answering, “I don’t think you need to worry. Narcissa and I know what we’re getting into. Regardless of the Ministry’s Order, we both chose to marry one another of our own free will and with good faith in the other. It’s been only a few days, Harry, it’s far too soon to talk about what things will look like for us in a year or two but I could still tell you with a deep certainty in my soul that if, in two years, I’m still married to Narcissa Black, I’ll be happy...and well cared for...and honored.”

Harry simply covered Hermione’s hand with his own and smiled at his best friend.

The two were content to sit together in comfortable silence and read the morning papers through, commenting on the new pairs that were announced until they were interrupted by an owl tapping at the window.

“Paionia,” Hermione said with a smile letting the little bird in and taking the letter from her. When the owl flew in and sat in front of Harry, Hermione realized she must need an answer and opened the letter from Narcissa.

My Dear Hermione,

I’d like to discuss an urgent social situation with you. Please let me know if I may call on you shortly at your flat? I do apologize for interrupting your morning.

Your future wife,

Narcissa

“Narcissa’s coming over as soon as Paionia gets this letter back to her,” Hermione told Harry as she wrote a hasty of course, come right away, you have a key to her fiancée.

“All right, then?”

“I’m not actually sure. We had nothing planned formally; I had intended to owl Professor McGonagall today but Narcissa said she’d like to discuss an urgent social situation and asked if she could come shortly. We do, in fact, have to make some decisions this weekend regarding our wedding. Maybe it’s that?”

Harry stared into space for a long moment while Hermione cleaned up her teacup. “It’s probably something to do with Draco being assigned Runcorn’s widow. We’ve got to figure that out right away. I thought we could take care of it at brunch tomorrow but maybe they’ve come up with a better idea.”

Hermione nodded distractedly and went to brush her teeth before waiting in the foyer.

Startled at the unexpected knocking, Hermione peeked outside before rushing to let Narcissa inside.

“You really are welcome to use your key, Narcissa,” she told her as she opened the door, “I, oh! What’s the matter? You’ve been crying?” Hermione pulled the other woman into the foyer and then quickly into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry to just barge in like this,” Narcissa said, shuddering.

“Nonsense. We’re going to be married, Narcissa, you should come to me when you’re upset.”

Sighing, Narcissa tried to put her thoughts in order, “Hermione. We’ve been...engaged...for only a matter of days.”

“Technically that may be true,” Hermione pressed a kiss to the side of Narcissa’s face, “but as far as everyone else knows, we’ve been seeing one another for months. Your divorce was finalized in, what, early June?”

“Late May, in fact, and the official term is a dissolution, not a divorce.”

“Okay, your dissolution was finalized in late May, so let’s go with June first for us, then, yeah?”

“What?” Narcissa leaned back and looked at Hermione’s face.

“Yep. We got together quickly after your dissolution. You’d been so unhappy for years in your marriage and had been treated so poorly by Lucius and I didn’t even know it but I was looking for someone who would understand what I’d seen and been through, as well. We ran into one another a few times in May at Andromeda’s place and ended up talking for hours each time.” Hermione’s eyes had caught Narcissa’s and neither woman was looking away.

“When my marriage was finally dissolved with that cretin, Lucius, we realized we had a natural connection between us. Instead of simply running into one another at Andromeda’s, we started planning to have lunches and dinners together at one another’s residence, not yet ready to face the public.”

“You deserved an opportunity for autonomy.”

“And you for anonymity.”

“But because of the Decree…”

“Neither of us got it.”

Hermione wound her hand through the hair at the back of Narcissa’s neck and tugged the woman closer, whispering, “Narcissa?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m going to make a request of you right now,” Hermione kept whispering into Narcissa’s ear.

The other woman nodded with a shiver.

“One day, after we’re married, I want you to remind me of this moment. I want you to remind me of this story and these words and I want you to ask me, demand I tell you, what I want to tell you right now.” Hermione wrapped her other arm more tightly around Narcissa’s waist, pulling their bodies against one another before continuing, “I just want you to wait until after we’re married, okay? Promise?”

Leaning back to press her forehead against Hermione’s and memorizing everything about the moment, Narcissa placed her hands gently on either side of Hermione’s face and promised, sealing the oath with a kiss.

“Now,” Hermione took command, “tell me what’s going on.”

“Oh, Hermione,” Narcissa’s eyes filled with tears immediately, “I’m afraid I’m being rather foolish.”

Shaking her head, Hermione pulled the other woman with her to sit in front of the fireplace.

“Draco’s getting married.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes and looked intently at Narcissa before answering in the affirmative.

“No, I mean, Draco’s getting married tonight.”

“Oh, my! So, he won’t be marrying Mrs. Runcorn then?”

“No, he’s not. Though just the fact that she’s who they assigned him has me all twisted up. I know he took the Dark Mark and I know it looks bad but he wasn’t even of age. They’re going to punish my son for the rest of his life for the sins of his parents,” Narcissa was crying again.

“Oh, dear,” Hermione hugged Narcissa to herself and leaned back in a fair approximation of how they'd spent the other afternoon. “First of all, the Wizengamot won’t be in power like this forever. We’re working on that right now, aren’t we? Second, Draco will not be paying for his father’s sins - not yours, mind you - forever. Lucius shall pay for his own sins in Azkaban and we shall remind the powers that be of that fact as often as necessary to keep your son safer. Third, let’s put our minds together to find a way to remove the Mark from Draco’s arm. I know it’ll fade in time but maybe we can make it fade more quickly.”

Narcissa’s tears slowly dried up and she acknowledged that Hermione was right, of course. “I haven’t heard of anyone who was able to remove their Dark Mark, though. It’s supposed to be permanent.”

“Well, so is the killing curse and yet here I stand...again,” Harry joked as he entered the sitting room.

Hermione smiled at her friend, appreciating his well timed entrance and seeing what was in his hand.

“Good morning, Mister Potter,” Narcissa said formally, sitting up, cheeks tinting pink.

“Miss Black,” he smiled.

“I apologize for intruding on you so early, but I needed to tell Hermione something and I didn’t want to use the owl post and have any misunderstandings.”

Harry glanced at Hermione before answering and found her watching Narcissa speak with a happy, little smile on her face.

“It’s no problem, you’re welcome any time. You have a key, right?”

“I do,” Narcissa smiled at Harry, “thank you.”

He quickly tucked his hands behind his back, grinning mischievously. “So, Miss Black, have you seen the paper this morning? Quite an interesting little...announcement.”

“Do you have it there? I haven’t even looked at the papers yet, do let me see, please,” she reached out for the paper in Harry’s hand which he handed over with an indulgent grin.

Narcissa carefully laid the newsprint on the coffee table in front of them and gasped quietly when she saw their announcement on top of the front page.

“Oh, Hermione,” she breathed out, resting her left hand atop Hermione’s right leg, “you’re so beautiful.” Narcissa traced the other woman’s face in one of the images before it changed.

“Me?” Hermione said, blushing once again, “Have you looked at yourself?” Hermione leaned against her fiancée, resting her temple on Narcissa’s shoulder and linking her arm with the other woman’s. “I love all the bits of our conversation she included and how they’re just little floating fragments.”

“You just said some of those things to me this morning, ‘Mione,” Harry added, “That you choose of your own free will to marry Narcissa and that you have a deep certainty in your soul that you’ll be happy together.”

After a moment, Narcissa asked, “Have you finished with today’s paper? Can we take this one to frame it?” She looked away, trying to subtly wipe a stray tear from her right eye.

“Sorry,” Harry frowned, “I haven’t finished yet.” He carefully took the paper back and laid it on an end table.

Hermione cleared her throat and brought the topic back around to Draco and what his plan was.

Narcissa’s eyes immediately grew watery again. “I’m so sorry I’m being so emotional about this,” she pressed her cool hands to her warm cheeks and moved to stand next to the fireplace.

“It’s fine, he’s your only child, you’re allowed to be emotional, just tell us what’s going on,” Hermione implored.

“He’s getting married. Tonight.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Not to Runcorn’s widow, then?”

“No. To Dean Thomas.”

The room was silent.

“I’m sorry. I must’ve heard incorrectly. I thought you said Dean Thomas?”

“I did. Dean and Draco are getting married tonight in Hogsmeade.”

Hermione’s face scrunched up and she looked down at the floor. “I’m a little confused; I didn’t think Dean was gay.”

“He’s not,” Harry smiled, “Draco isn’t either. This is how they’re fighting back. They’ve both been paired with witches they’re not keen to wed and neither of them trust the Ministry to re-pair them with someone they prefer so they’re taking matters into their own hands.”

“You think?” Hermione asked him.

“I do. Draco is extremely cunning and he was gutted to be assigned Mrs. Runcorn. Marrying Dean gets him out of marrying a witch and producing children because, even though reproductive magic has come a very long way for witches, it hasn’t kept up for wizards. What I don’t understand, Mistress Black, is why you’re so upset? We knew we were sparking a rebellion, did we not?”

Hermione looked sharply at Harry, frowning.

“Yes, of course. I’m just sad for my son, that he won’t be marrying for love. He’s marrying for politics, just like I was forced to do all those years ago. It’s a terrible thing the Ministry has done.”

Hermione had risen to move closer to Narcissa but halted, unsure of her reception. Narcissa reached out for the younger woman, entwining their fingers.

“And,” Narcissa continued, “I feel a little guilty.” She tugged gently to get Hermione to move closer. “Because this may have started as a way to fight back against the Ministry and their ridiculous decree but it’s turning out that I feel quite lucky to have wound up with you.”

“I feel the same way,” Hermione whispered back.

After a moment, Harry spoke again, “Is there anything I can do to help with tonight’s wedding?”

Narcissa heaved a great sigh and shook her head, “I don’t know. It’s not going to be a very big affair. Draco and Dean are the Manor now trying to contact a few people and keep it off the Wizengamot’s radar until it’s finished.”

Hermione gently rubbed her hand up and down Narcissa’s back, “Do you think they would try to stop them?”

“They think so. Technically they’re both defying a Ministerial Decree tonight.”

“Are they though?” Asked Harry.

“I’m afraid so,” Hermione agreed, “The decree states that Ministry officials will assign marriage partners to all unwed witches and wizards of legal, child-bearing age. All such arrangements must wed before 2 January 1999.”

“Right, unwed witches and wizards. So if Draco and Dean are wed, then the Ministry can’t assign them another partner.”

“However, they were unwed when their partners were assigned. The best thing would be if Runcorn’s widow and Dean’s assigned partner were to wed other people or flat out refuse to marry anyone. It would protect Draco,” Hermione said.

Harry stood and spoke quietly, “Don’t take this the wrong way. Do we want to protect Draco?”

Immediately Narcissa straightened to her full - and rather imposing - height, “I’m going to assume you meant that differently than it sounded. Please clarify yourself.”

Hermione, hands on her hips, agreed.

“Listen, both of you,” Harry put his hands up, palms forward, “I’m friends with Draco, remember? I don’t want anything bad to happen to him, either. It sounds like he’s marrying Dean for the sole purpose of fighting the Decree. We don’t want to protect everyone from the Ministry’s reaction to that. We want to expose the Wizengamot for the old toads they are, right? Trying to take away our free will? The best thing would be, in my opinion, for Dean and Draco to be confronted about it tomorrow by the Ministry. They can go on record as saying they got married much sooner than they would ever have wanted to in their relationship but, with the Ministry trying to force them to each marry someone else, they felt they had no choice.”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed quickly, “and if the Ministry pushes back about having children it opens the door for us to all step up and remind them we aren’t livestock here for them to mate and breed at will.”

“Too true,” Narcissa agreed.

“Let’s go back to the Manor and see if Draco and Dean need any help,” Hermione said quietly to Narcissa.

“Thank you, dear,” Narcissa squeezed Hermione’s hand and turned to speak to Harry again, “You’ll come tonight, won’t you? Hogsmeade, the courtyard outside the Three Broomsticks at six.”

“Absolutely,” Harry assured her.

“Before we go, I was thinking about something else, actually,” Narcissa said in a timid voice.

The other two looked at her expectantly, heads tilted.

“I believe you’ve said your fireplace is not connected to the British Floo Network, correct?”

“Right,” Harry nodded, “I’ve had enough experience being spied on by the Ministry.”

“Black Manor is also disconnected from it. We could, however, connect them to one another. It would be easier and safer than Disapparating all the time.”

“We can do that without Ministry permission?” Hermione questioned.

“There’s a loophole,” Narcissa smirked, “that allows us to connect our two residences because we’re engaged to be married. I’m sure at first it was to allow families to negotiate and plan in private and has simply been forgotten about.”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t mind. If you’re able to perform the spell and no one else can use it to spy or gain entry to our flat or your Manor, it’s fine with me.”

“And we don’t even have to inform the Ministry,” Narcissa reassured the other two, “it’s a private matter between the betrothed. I can do the enchantment on this end now and then, when we get to the Manor, Hermione will need to finish it there.”

Harry and Hermione stepped away from the fireplace to allow Narcissa room to perform the spell. She brandished her wand, used the tip to outline the opening of the fireplace, and spoke, “Arcanum coniunc, Black Manor.” Storing her wand once more, Narcissa turned to Hermione.

“That’s it?”

“Yes, dear,” Narcissa chuckled.

“But...it’s so simple. Why doesn’t everyone use it?”

“A few reasons,” she said, taking Hermione’s hand in her own as she headed toward the door, “first, have you seen it anywhere? Second, there are certain qualifications which must be met, we must be betrothed, we must live at the residences we’re connecting, and those residences must not be connected to the Ministry network. Third, the Ministry has done their due diligence in silencing and routing out much of the Old Magic. You yourself thought I was going to cut your hand to allow you to open the gates at Black Manor. The Ministry has allowed Old Magic and pureblood rhetoric to get mixed up with Voldemort and the wars that have happened. Because of that, no one trusts the old ways any more and most people have, in fact, forgotten them.”

“But you haven’t,” Hermione grinned.

“Well, I have books.”

Harry watched them go, oblivious to his presence and wrapped up in their own conversation. He marveled at how well suited to one another they really were.

“Remind me to pick up some Floo Powder next time we go out,” Hermione laughed, “I can’t believe it was that simple.”

“Honestly, Hermione, so many of the old ways are simple. They draw from intent and natural magic more than words and wands.”

“Mother,” they heard shouted from upstairs, “is that you?”

Narcissa rolled her eyes and walked up the stairs, pausing halfway to motion to Hermione to follow. Once she was outside Draco’s study, she announced her presence.

“Oh, Mrs. Malfoy - I mean Black!” Dean stood.

“You may call me Narcissa. You are marrying my child tonight, after all,” Narcissa said, leaning against the door jamb.

“Thank you, Narcissa,” he smiled.

“Hi, boys!” Hermione said, tucking herself under Narcissa’s arm and into the woman’s side.

“Hermione!” Dean nearly shouted, “I haven’t seen you in months! How are you?”

“I’m doing really well, Dean, thanks. How have you been? How’s your mom and your sisters?”

“Oh, they’re good, they’re all good, thanks. I’m doing well. Decided not to go back to Hogwarts this year to finish after all, ended up getting a job with Holyhead Harpies as their statistician! It’s actually a new role I’ve created myself.”

“Dean that’s amazing,” Hermione complimented her friend, “and really perfect for you. You’ve always been a sport fan and you’ve got such an analytical mind.”

“And it gives us a family pass into games for free,” Draco teased.

“Speaking of,” Hermione starts, “how is everything looking for tonight? All set with everything? Anything we can help with?”

Narcissa stood from leaning on the door to wrap her arm more securely around Hermione ‘s shoulder and was pleased to feel the younger woman do the same around her waist.

“We were just about to go to Madam Malkin’s for formal robes. We spoke to Rosmerta about the courtyard and the catering yesterday. McGonagall is going to preside. We just don’t really have many guests,” Draco said.

“Well, Harry’s coming,” Hermione answered brightly, “I could owl him and ask if he’ll get some people together to come.”

“Maybe Neville?” Dean asked. “Seamus, Ron, Padma, Parvati, Lavender, any of our mates from Hogwarts would do.”

“I’d rather not invite Mister Weasley if at all possible,” Narcissa requested.

Hermione chimed in to explain, “He’s having rather a poor reaction to our engagement.” Then, turning to Narcissa, she continued, “I almost think seeing us together in public would temper his...temper...but I’d be terribly upset if it ruined the evening instead. He does need to get used to this, we’re not going anywhere, he’s going to see us together at some point.”

“You’re right, of course, he does need to get used to this but perhaps at my son’s wedding isn’t the place?”

Draco watched the interaction intently, not expecting to witness the closeness he was observing. “I think we need to be fair to Dean, too, though, and he and Ron were friends in school.”

“Yeah, I mean, I guess we were. It actually doesn’t matter to me. He has a bit of a temper and if he’s going to cause any kind of problem we don’t want him there. Who do you want to invite, Draco? Pansy and Goyle?”

“Yes, and a few others. I’ll ask Pansy to take care of it. Except Luna, she probably won’t know how to contact her. Do you think you could take care of that Hermione?”

Smiling, she agreed.

“Draco, I’m a little concerned that Madam Malkin won’t be able to fit formal robes for you so quickly. What will you do if she can’t?”

“Mother, don’t worry. I think Dean and I are both fine with getting something simple and off the rack today. We’re not looking to be the height of wizarding fashion. This is quite literally going to look like a backyard wedding. You two will probably be the best dressed witches in sight.”

Narcissa bristled.

“Now, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Draco rushed, “I think you two should look good. Really, Dean and I are doing this to make a point. We aren’t getting married because we love each other and can’t imagine marrying someone else even though that’s what we’ll say if the Ministry asks. We’re doing this to show other people that there are options and that no matter how many Decrees they pass, the Ministry can never take our free will. We know the Ministry’s marriage laws inside and out and we have planned the verbiage and actions for tonight’s ceremony in exhaustive detail. That’s why we chose McGonagall, we know we can trust her to follow the script precisely. You two are a different story. A different spark, remember? You ARE selling your love story. You two should come tonight dressed to the nines and ready to have a great time together. Now that you no longer feel the need to hide your relationship, enjoy the spotlight, we’re counting on it being on you.”

“Exactly,” Dean agreed with Draco, “I know you’ve only been together a few months but obviously you’re a great couple. It’s different with us.”

“Okay,” Hermione agreed, “well, then, I’ll go owl Harry and we should choose our clothing for tonight. Will you be doing a rehearsal before the ceremony?”

“We did that already yesterday. We just need to go get robes.”

Narcissa and Hermione headed back downstairs to call Paionia and send the request to Harry. While they waited to hear back from him they sat in the kitchen, quietly sharing a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.

“It’s interesting that Draco didn’t tell Dean the truth about us.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, as well, but I think it was more about him protecting me than keeping it a secret,” Narcissa confided.

“I can understand that,” Hermione, sitting next to Narcissa, turned to face the other woman, “we’ve only truly known each other for a matter of days and I constantly find myself wanting to protect you. I can’t imagine how strong that impulse will feel after eighteen years.”

Narcissa felt her breath catch in her throat yet again. “God, Hermione, I want to kiss you right now,” she whispered, swaying toward the other woman.

“Then why aren’t you?” Hermione leaned forward.

Narcissa turned and wrapped both arms around Hermione, burying her face in the other woman’s neck, “I’m afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Of this, Hermione! Of us! It’s been four days. You make my heart pound. My breath catch. You make me lightheaded and my palms sweaty. I’ve never felt this way in my life. I never even knew I could. And if you felt this way, too, you’d be afraid and the fact that you’re not just makes it worse.”

“Stop.” Hermione pulled back. “Stop now, Narcissa,” she placed her hands on either side of Narcissa’s face and looked right into those blue eyes. “I’m not afraid of this, it’s true. But not because I don’t feel all those things. I’m not terrified because I do feel all of that with you and it’s amazing. I love the way my heart pounds when you hold my hand and the way my breath catches right before you kiss me. The way your smile makes me lightheaded is it’s own special kind of magic and I didn’t even think it could exist. I don’t care if it’s been four days or three months or eternity because I’m feeling it now. And it’s incredible.” Hermione moved to sit sideways on Narcissa’s lap and spoke again, “so, kiss me, Narcissa. Every damn time you want to. Kiss me.”

Long moments later, Hermione and Narcissa were interrupted by footsteps on the back stairs. Trying not to giggle, Hermione did her best to wipe away the smudges of lipstick around Narcissa’s mouth before Dean and Draco walked in. She was laughing too hard to be very successful, though, and it was quite clear what the two had been doing just moments earlier. Instead of being embarrassed, however, Draco simply smiled and said they were off to the robe shop and the pub for some lunch.

With the boys gone, Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms around Narcissa, settling more comfortable on her lap. “You know, Narcissa,” Hermione whispered, her nose pressed to the leonine neck she was holding, “I adore the smell of your perfume on you. Did you put it just here this morning?” The mischievous tone belied her faux innocence and Hermione pressed an open mouthed kiss against the pulse point beneath Narcissa’s ear. She deeply enjoyed the moan that drew from her partner and did it again.

“God,” Narcissa groaned out, pushing Hermione back into her own chair, “I did put perfume just there this morning on that, apparently, particularly sensitive point on my neck. And seeing as how I have absolutely no intention of doing anything more physical than kissing you for the time being, there will be no more investigating where I dab my perfume. Thank you.”

Hermione just bit her bottom lip and stared at Narcissa.

“What? Did you hear me, Hermione?”

Nodding quickly, Hermione reached up and gently gripped Narcissa’s chin in her thumb and forefinger, “Narcissa Black, you are so beautiful.”

Just as Narcissa leaned forward to meet the other woman in another kiss she heard a ringing from the other room. “Saved by the bell,” she teased.

Following Narcissa into the mud room, Hermione realized it was Painoia ringing her bell to alert Narcissa to her return. Hermione remarked on the intelligence.

“Thank you,” Narcissa smiled brightly, “I thought it would be easier and safer for Paionia and Ulysses to have a specific place to go here that would give them cover and a landing pad. It’s come to be quite convenient all around.”

“It’s perfect. Why don’t more wizarding families do this? The Weasley’s owls tap at the kitchen window and fly right over the table like at Hogwarts. But, believe me, the kitchen’s quite a bit smaller than the Great Hall.”

“Yes, the landing platform for them outside makes it safer for the owls in case someone has closed the window and prevents birds from flying all over one’s house.”

After giving the owl her treats, Narcissa handed the letter to Hermione to read.

“Perfect, Harry said he’ll make sure to have the right crowd there at the right time.”

“Of course, he will. He’s quite a lovely young man and a good friend.”

“He’s like a brother to me, really. Neither of us have any siblings and we both came into Hogwarts with no experience. I don’t know what I would’ve done without a friend like Harry.”

“Honestly, Hermione, I’m sure he says the same about you,” Narcissa reassured.

Hermione turned back toward Painoia for a moment before explaining what she had planned for the day. Narcissa’s response was to pull out the chair at the little writing desk in the corner and gesture for Hermione to sit.

“I’m going to go up to my rooms to look at some robes for this evening. You go ahead and write to Headmistress McGonagall and take your time. Remember, Scotland isn’t a quick flight so her answer may take a little time. Feel free to tell her you’re here, if she wants to Apparate over she’s welcome to.”

Hermione grasped Narcissa’s hand before she could go, “Thank you. Your support means everything.”

Narcissa leaned down to kiss the seated woman and said, “come upstairs when you’re done. Go back out to the foyer, take the main staircase up, turn right and go to the end of the hallway; you’ll find me.”

Hermione nodded and watched the woman walk away.

After nearly thirty minutes of trial and error, Hermione had a letter she was ready to send.

“Thank you, Paionia. This is going all the way to Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts. You needn’t wait for an answer but do feel free to stay there and rest for a little while if you’d like.” The bird hooted in response and took flight.

“Hmm, up the main stairs and turn right,” Hermione said to herself looking for Narcissa. When she got to the end of the hallway, she looked left and saw only a closed door. When she looked right she found an open doorway with light shining out. Heading that way, she tapped on the door frame and startled Narcissa.

“Oh! You’re done?”

Hermione simply nodded.

“Come in, dear, these are my rooms here. I suppose, if we live here after we’re married, they’ll be our rooms.”

Hermione stood in the center of the large bedchamber and turned in a slow circle, “that would be lovely. It’s so calming in here.” When she looked at Narcissa again, she could tell the woman was hiding something. Narcissa wouldn’t quite make eye contact before looking away at something else.

Before she could ask, however, Narcissa blurted out, “I have a secret.”

Taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded at Narcissa to continue.

“Remember when we went shopping at Maison Capenoir?”

“Narcissa. It was yesterday. And it was kind of a big deal. Of course, I remember.”

“Well, I maybe bought more robes than just the two we wore for the photos,” she divulged.

Shoulders and head dropping dramatically, Hermione said, “Narcissa! Don’t scare me like that! You’re terrible at keeping secrets; I thought something was really wrong!”

“I’m excellent at keeping secrets! I saved Harry’s life with a secret! I just can’t keep them from you,” Narcissa laughed and stepped forward to wrap her arms around Hermione’s waist.

“Yes, you did, and I am ever so grateful.” Hermione chastely kissed the other woman’s lips. “So, tell me, what am I wearing tonight for my future-step-son’s wedding?”

Ignoring the comment about her future-step-son, Narcissa answered Hermione’s question, “I thought, at first, that we could just wear what we wore for the photographs yesterday but, then, I thought that we don’t necessarily want people to associate our Engagement Announcement with our current clothing. We want them to think we’ve been together longer. So, we should wear something else.”

“Boo,” Hermione whispered, “I was hoping to dance with you in those backless robes tonight.”

“Shameless flirt,” Narcissa teased, “I have a few pairs of robes pulled out for us to choose from. You don’t have to try any of them on until we’ve decided but I wanted us to choose robes that would…”

“Go together?” Hermione finished.

“Yes. Not match per se, but go together.”

“Like us.”

“Exactly. Like us.”

Narcissa kissed Hermione again - now that she had permission, she was going to do it whenever she wanted - and moved to the first pair of dress robes. As she was about to pick them up, Hermione walked over to join her. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Narcissa, but I don’t want to wear black tonight.”

“May I ask why?”

“Well, it’s just that Draco and Dean just told us this is going to have that feeling of a backyard wedding. And even though we’re going to be the best dressed couple there, I still think we should be dressed more...happily than a pair of black robes would be.”

Narcissa swallowed and her hands entwined behind her back.

“Narcissa?”

The older woman stepped away to the next pair of dress robes.

“Narcissa, please answer me.”

“It’s nothing, Hermione.”

She stepped behind Narcissa and gently released her hands from their white-knuckled hold on each other. Slowly she moved so her front was pressed to Narcissa’s back and her arms rested around the other woman’s hips. Forehead pressed to Narcissa’s spine, Hermione spoke, “I’m sorry if I insulted you. I was trying to be honest. Please don’t shut me out.”

“I’m sorry I’m being a little sensitive about this. I think part of me wants to wear black because I AM upset about Draco getting married tonight and I don’t want to dress happily.”

Hermione placed a kiss on Narcissa’s back, even though it was against her robes, Narcissa still felt the press. “Thank you for being honest with me. If, at five o’clock tonight, you still want to wear black, I will. But for now, let’s not decide. We have no pressing issues to take care of. Draco and Dean aren’t home. You didn’t sleep at all last night, I can tell, and I’m exhausted. Let’s take a nap and, when we wake up, we’ll be able to choose what we want to wear and get ready. Okay?”

Narcissa silently pulled out her wand, moved the robes off the bed, and took Hermione by the hand.

As they walked toward the oversized, four-poster bed, Narcissa confessed that she didn’t have any clothing like Hermione had given her the other day.

“At this point, a t-shirt would do. I don’t think I’ve been sleeping well with all the excitement this week.”

Narcissa quickly summoned two oversized sleeping shirts from her closet and the women simply turned away from one another and changed. They climbed on top of the fluffy, gray down comforter and Narcissa pulled up the warm blanket from the foot of the bed as they laid down facing one another.

“Come here,” Hermione demanded, rolling onto her back and stretching out her left arm give Narcissa somewhere to curl up.

Within moments of Narcissa’s head resting on Hermione’s chest and Hermione’s arm holding her securely in place, both women were sound asleep.