The Replenishment Decree

Narcissa slowly opened the door to Black Manor jumping slightly when Pepper popped into sight. “Mistress Black,” the little elf squeaked, “Hermione Granger is in the new study. Mistress Black should maybe hurry?”

“What is it, Pepper? Is Hermione okay?” Narcissa said moving briskly toward Hermione.

“Hermione Granger was looking at wedding papers and calendars and said six months? We have three months! Good grief! And then Hermione Granger laid down with a book on her face,” Pepper tugged her little ears. “Hermione Granger didn’t drink tea when Pepper brought it. Or eat a biscuit...a biscuit!”

Narcissa, biting her lip to contain a sympathetic smile, knelt down before the distressed little creature, taking her tiny hand, “Pepper, you’re such a good elf. You take very good care of us. Hermione is just fine, I promise. I’ll go there and check on her right away. Could you perhaps get lunch started for us? Something light I think as we’re having people over for dinner so that ought to be a heartier meal.”

“Yes, Mistress!” Pepper popped away.

Narcissa rose, brushing off her knees and made her way to Hermione’s study to see what else they would be rushing to get done before the wedding.

“Darling?” She called out softly as she tapped on the door, peeking into the room. Just as Pepper had said, Hermione lay draped across the chaise, a book over her face.

“Cissa, is that you?” Hermione didn’t move her body...or the book.

Smiling indulgently, Narcissa simply crossed the room and took the book off of Hermione’s face replacing the paper with her lips as she sat on the edge of the chaise lounge next to Hermione. “I should hope so,” she murmured against Hermione’s mouth.

“Mmm, better than books,” Hermione answered, wrapping her arms around Narcissa’s shoulders, pulling her fiancée closer. She deepened the kiss, her ardor rising quickly having spent the previous hours thinking about their wedding...and their honeymoon.

Narcissa’s desire quickly matched Hermione’s own and found the taller woman’s free hand sliding from Hermione’s cheek to her neck to trace her collar bone before sliding down her side to cup her hip. Hermione’s hands could not remain still on Narcissa’s back and roamed restlessly up and down the woman’s long spine before they, too, found purchase on her hips. Hermione used them to move Narcissa from sitting next to her prone form to laying atop her, one of Narcissa’s legs between her own.

“Hermione,” Narcissa ground out, fighting the instinct of her hips to press against the woman beneath her, “what are you doing to me?”

“Kiss me, Narcissa,” Hermione panted back, seeking out the other woman’s lips once more.

Narcissa gave in for a moment - how could she not - but resisted the rhythm of Hermione’s hands against her bottom. However much her body wanted this, and it did, Narcissa was not going to give in. She slowed their kisses, pulled back enough to dislodge Hermione’s persistent hands from their very happy purchase. Smiling softly Narcissa looked into brown eyes with widely dilated pupils, “Darling, what were you thinking about before I came home, hmm?”

“You’re so beautiful,” Hermione whispered, not answering the question.

Narcissa doubted she had even heard it. “Hermione, dear,” Narcissa tapped her nose, standing so she could readjust and sit herself back beside Hermione’s prone body, “what made you hide beneath your book? Pepper said you were stressed about the timeline for something? What were you working on?”

Hermione’s eyes focused on Naricssa’s, “I was looking into various Wizarding Travel Agencies for Honeymoon planning.” Hermione’s blush and sudden interest in the stitching detail on the edge of the furniture was a dead giveaway of her embarrassment.

“Ah,” Narcissa said knowingly, “well, that certainly explains that.”

“And what does that mean?” Hermione blurted out defensively, sitting up.

“You were thinking about our Honeymoon and I was thinking about marrying you both right before I came home. It makes perfect sense that we would both be so quick to...hmm...how shall I say it delicately,” Narcissa teased a little, “fall into one another so intensely?”

“Oh,” Hermione blinked. “Yes, that does certainly explain it. Although, Narcissa, most times I only have to look at you and I’m ready to fall into you.”

Narcissa pressed her forehead to Hermione’s shoulder, smiling, “three months, my darling.”

“Yes, I know. And one week and four days. But who’s counting.”

“Oh, we are. We are definitely counting.” Narcissa placed a kiss where her forehead had been pressing before she stood and offered a hand to Hermione. “Now, show me what upset you before we go have some lunch.”

“Ugh,” Hermione grunted, “All of the resources on hand say that wedding dresses and honeymoons both take at least six months but we only have three!”

Narcissa, Hermione’s hand carefully ensconced in her own, led her fiancée to the kitchen for lunch, “Well, let’s start with the Honeymoon. Are there places you’re desperate to visit? Is there somewhere you have in mind for our holiday?”

Smiling, Hermione just shook her head.

“Are you sure? There’s no where in the world you’d like to visit?”

“There are plenty of places I’d like to visit,” Hermione pulled out a chair for Narcissa and then sat next to her, “but none of them seem very appropriate for a romantic trip with you.”

Narcissa leaned over and kissed the other woman, “Hermione, it isn’t the location that has to be romantic. It’s being there together that will make it so.”

Hermione just tilted her head, a besotted little grin upon her face.

“You know, I was actually thinking that for our Honeymoon we could go to La Maison de Black for a few weeks. Christmas in Paris would be beautiful and we could invite people over for a New Year’s Ball if you wanted?”

“And from Paris we could take trips around to different places?”

“Like? What are some places in Europe you’d like to visit, Hermione?” Narcissa questioned again before thanking Pepper for the toasted sandwiches and soup she had placed on the table.

“Yes, thank you, Pep.” Hermione smiled at the happy elf. “I don’t know, maybe Luxembourg? I’ve heard they have a rich magical community there?”

“They do,” Narcissa frowned, “but I’m not sure it’s the kind we’d like to visit. I think it might be more similar to the kind we’ve just defeated, in fact.”

“No,” Hermione was aghast. “I’ve seen so many pictures of Luxembourg in books, it looks incredible. Their Diagon Alley, ugh, what’s it called, um…Rue de La Magie? It’s impressive. One of the largest central, magical hubs in all of Western Europe.”

“Yes, which is probably what led to them growing so fond of their own power. Last I heard, which was, admittedly, not all that recently, they were harboring a great many Death Eaters in spectacular fashion. They were treated like visiting dignitaries, not fugitives.”

Hermione finished chewing the food in her mouth before replying with a simple, “I’ll add it to the list...and do a little more research about Luxembourg before we make any serious plans to travel. I have to assume the two women most recognizable for the fall of the Dark Lord wouldn’t be welcome in a society of pureblood supremacists.”

“No, and I’ve actually heard things much darker about society in that country. It’s something it would take multiple governments united to put an end to.”

“Narcissa,” Hermione looked her fiancée right in the eyes, “what is it? What do they do?”

“You know how Lucius treated poor, sweet Dobby?”

Hermione nodded gravely, eyes wide and watery.

“Rumor has it that ‘elite’ society there? They have their own court system for muggles who commit offenses against magical society,” Narcissa delicately wiped her mouth with a napkin. Hermione noticed her hands shaking and reached out to grasp them.

“You don’t have to continue if it’s too upsetting, Narcissa, it’s okay. I’m sure I could look it up somewhere,” Hermione pressed her lips to the back of one of Narcissa’s hands.

“I doubt it’s recorded anywhere. La cour du diamant et de la terre is what they call it, I think? The court of diamond and dirt. And the standard punishment for any muggle brought in is indentured servitude.”

“Indentured...servitude...they have muggle slaves. Oh, my...Narcissa. How has the world allowed this to go on?”

“It’s not as though they do it in public. The court is held in secret. Muggles are kept shackled in manors and chateaus. And the government of non-magical Luxembourg is none the wiser. Obliviated mostly, as I understand, or lied to. I know some positions in the Parliament have been held by wizards in the past but I don’t know if any are now.”

“And no one in the monarchy has ever been magical?”

“If they have they haven’t given away the secrets of Rue de la Magie,” Narcissa shuddered.

The pair ate in peace for a few moments. Narcissa, glancing sideways at Hermione, took a quiet breath and broke the silence, “we could definitely go to Switzerland if you want to travel, though. We could even do a weekend there in January before we come back to London? It’s beautiful and there are quite a few completely magical villages that are supposed to be wonderfully diverse and welcoming.”

“Yes, absolutely yes!”

“Consider it done. I’ll owl over to one of the Chateau’s this afternoon and see what they have available. Well, actually, let’s talk first,” Narcissa shook her head laughing at herself. “The village I was thinking of is a purely magical village near Lake Lucerne but would you rather go to the south? To the Alps?”

“Which is lovelier?”

Narcissa turned more fully toward Hermione and cupped the younger woman’s cheek in her hand, “I don’t know, darling. This will be a new experience for us both. I will admit that there’s a Chateau owned by a Roma family called The Mountain’s Gem where I’ve always wanted to stay. That is to say, it’s called that but in their native language which I don’t know, I think they speak Romani. It’s right on Lake Lucerne in Bergjuwel, which also means Mountain Gem but in German.” Narcissa laughed, a light, twinkling sound. “But if you want to see the Alps, we can always go back to Bergjuwel another time.”

“No, I want to go to the Chateau. It sounds perfect for our Honeymoon,” Hermione kissed Narcissa, to seal the agreement. “Paris, Lake Lucerne, maybe a little French Riviera, I wouldn’t say no to you in a bikini on a beach... Who would’ve thought our lives would look this happy just four months after the war ended?”

Narcissa’s smile lit up the room. “You are so very right about our happiness, my darling. So very right about that.” Narcissa kissed Hermione again, clearly addicted to the younger woman’s lips. “However, you are very wrong if you think I’m lounging on a beach in France in January. It’s far too cold! We can go back to the Riviera in June you silly woman, when the weather is hot and the beach is perfect,” laughing Narcissa picked her sandwich up once again.

Hermione, pleased with herself to have lightened Narcissa’s mood, went back to her own lunch, content and smiling.

“That was delicious, Pepper, thank you so much,” Hermione said sweetly, trying to make up for having let her tea go cold earlier.

Grinning widely, the house elf curtsied, “Filly is getting the dinner things for tonight, Mistress Black. The menu is all planned out and Pepper will clean the table and set the table and...and...um...oh! And Pepper will freshen up the sitting room for the guests who are Harry Potter and Andy-dromeda and Miss Hopkirk. Madame Hopkirk? Mistress Hopkirk?”

“Miss Hopkirk will do just fine, Pepper,” Narcissa said, seeing the look on Hermione’s face.

The women made their way silently into Hermione’s study, closing the door behind them before Narcissa finally made eye contact with Hermione, knowing the younger woman was about to absolutely fall apart at just…

“How adorable can one house elf possibly be?” Hermione whispered. “Andy-dromeda? I swear she did not call Andy that last week.”

“Of course not,” Narcissa murmured into Hermione’s ear, not wanting Pepper to overhear them, “she had never heard anyone call her Andy before you came over.”

“What was she calling Andy before?” Hermione wrapped her arms around Narcissa’s shoulders, taking advantage of their position to hold her fiancée as closely as she could.

“She always called her ‘missus’ without fail. Then, after last Tuesday, suddenly it became ‘Andy-dromeda’ this and ‘Andy-dromeda’ that. And you and Harry are always both referred to by your full names. And I am never anything other than Mistress Black,” Narcissa pouted.

“Aww, do you feel left out because your big sister has a nickname and you don’t?” Hermione teased.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes at the face so near her own before saying quietly, “I’d be careful teasing the woman who has her hands so near your ticklish hips, darling.”

“Pff, idle threats. I’m not ticklish,” Hermione pressed up on her toes and kissed Narcissa who promptly dug her fingers into Hermione’s decidedly ticklish sides. An ungraceful cackle exploded out of the younger woman who scrambled to twist away from the long arms wrapped around her. “No! No, you win! I’m ticklish! I lied! I lied!” Giggling uncontrollably, Hermione begged, “I’m sorry, please!”

Narcissa stopped as quickly as she had begun. Though tickling could be fun and silly, it was never fun when it went on too long and she wanted to make sure Hermione was still genuinely smiling and laughing when she stopped. “Okay, okay, I’m done, darling, I’m done. Are you alright?” Narcissa asked, hands in front of her not touching the other woman.

“Of course, I’m alright, you goof,” Hermione smiled, molding herself around Narcissa once again, “now hug me for real before we look at the schedule. I know you have another appointment soon and I’d really like to set up my own appointment with you before you go.”

Before answering or moving toward Hermione’s table of wedding lists, suggestions, supplies, and calendars, Narcissa held her fiancée in her arms and breathed in the calm, happy feeling of peace she had come to associate with the other woman. “My Hermione, I would cancel anything else I had planned if you wanted to spend time with me you know. It even surprises me a little to say that, but it’s completely true.”

Hermione’s heart did that funny trick where it skips a beat and pounds all at the same time, “Cissa,” she breathed. “You needn’t cancel anything today, my dear. Come look at the big calendar.”

Standing properly before Hermione’s “Wedding Central” Narcissa understood the controlled chaos. From any other perspective it looked like haphazard piles and random stacks of parchment but from the center of the table she could understand the method. “Okay, Mione, I see. The most pressing issues are here, in the middle, near the calendar?”

“Yes, and you can see right here that our dresses or gowns or robes needed to be started three months ago! Whatever are we going to do?”

“I can tell you right off what we’re not going to do. We’re not going to panic. The reason this says six months I’m sure is because many brides are told they need to ‘shape up’ or change their body before the big day. Neither of us are telling each other that, are we?”

“No. Don’t change a thing about you! You’re perfect,” Hermione gushed.

Narcissa smiled, rewarding Hermione’s sweet complement with a quick kiss, “I know I’m certainly not telling you to change your body either, darling. So once we choose our wedding attire, there should be no need for any type of refitting or massive alterations because of that. The other reason they allot so much time is because some brides-to-be spend ages upon ages searching store after store for exactly the gown of which they’ve always dreamed. We also don’t have that problem. If there’s something you really want that you don’t see, you can always magic it on! Or ask the owner or seamstress in the magical robe shop to magic it on and it’s immediate. It doesn’t take weeks of hand stitching like it does in the muggle world.”

“You’re sure?”

“Well, not entirely sure, I guess,” Narcissa hedged, “I mean, is there a particular wedding ensemble you’ve had in mind your entire life that you simply must wear? Is it covered in bead work or hand stitching or embroidered lace?”

“Goodness no. I’m more of a sleek and simple kind of clothing wearer.”

“Then, I’m relatively positive that we have more than enough time to find suitable, beautiful garments for our wedding. When would you like to go look?”

“Next Friday? My schedule is completely free and I had been hoping to spend the day with you,” Hermione smiled.

“It’s a date,” Narcissa sealed it with a kiss. “And with that plan in place, I’m off to my appointment. Are you okay, now, darling? All better?’

“Absolutely, I’m wonderful. I’m going to do some reading for my NEWTs for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll see you before dinner?”

Narcissa grinned from ear to ear, completely enjoying the simple domesticity of the moment, “yes. I’ll see you before dinner. If you finish your reading, feel free to have a soak in the tub. All the bubbles, salts, and oils are on the shelf in the bathroom.”

They kissed once more and Narcissa was off.

Apparating to the park she remembered from earlier days, Narcissa unfolded the paper tucked in her pocket and read the address to herself. She watched as number twelve Grimmauld Place appeared before her eyes.

It took a moment to fortify herself with a deep breath and a reminder of her purpose before Narcissa could convince her feet to carry her to the front door and her hand to knock.

The door swung open only moments later revealing the aged house elf, Kreacher, a smile on his craggy face. “Hello, Mistress Black,” he said happily, bowing low before her.

“Good afternoon, Kreacher,” Narcissa answered quietly, entering the dark hallway.

“Come, come, Master Potter is back this way,” Kreacher scampered by and waved at Narcissa to follow him through the corridors.

She bumped into an awkwardly placed umbrella stand causing a small racket and awakening a very cranky portrait who promptly began hurling insults.

“Aunt Walburga?”

Silence.

Harry and Kreacher stared out of the kitchen doorway, eyes wide, jaws dropped.

“Narcissa?”

“Yes, it’s me, Auntie. I’m sorry I disturbed you. There’s an umbrella stand in your hallway that caught me off guard,” Narcissa chuckled.

“Narcissa, there are strangers in my house,” the portrait of her late aunt said quietly.

“I know, Auntie, and I’m terribly sorry that’s distressing you. Would it help if I introduced you? Would you prefer your portrait be relocated to a quieter room?”

Harry looked irritated when Narcissa glanced at him, his arms crossed and a scowl on his usually friendly face. She could guess that her late aunt-by-marriage, Walburga Black, had thrown some terrible insults his way.

“You know, Auntie,” Narcissa added quietly, like she was telling Walburga a secret, “you do have some blood relatives alive still. They even live in the Manor you grew up in!”

“But this was my house, Narcissa! I lived here my whole marriage to Orion. I raised my boys here. The Black Family Tree is here.”

“It is, Auntie, you’re right. I could probably get that out of here, though. Do you know what happened? Do you know who owns the Grimmauld Place now?”

“No! I just know it was awfully loud for a while and now it’s mostly quiet.”

“Aunt Walburga, you’ve always liked to know things straight out, so I’m going to tell you bluntly, Sirius didn’t survive the most recent war.”

“He was dead to me long ago, anyway,” Walburga responded, shrugging carelessly.

“He left number twelve Grimmauld Place to his godson. The only child of James and Lily Potter, Harry, a remarkable, honest, kind, talented young wizard who is going to move in here and make this his home with his future wife and family.”

“A pure-blood?”

“His future wife is a pureblood descendant of the Black and Prewett lines but he is not. He is a half-blood, though it is said he is descended from one of the Peverell brothers.”

“And the Crabbes? My family?”

“Vincenzius Crabbe, your nephew, still lives in the Manor.”

“You will take me there. Now.”

“Auntie, I will take you there soon but I have plans for the afternoon. I apologize but you’ll have to wait.”

The portrait began yelling again, calling Narcissa every vile name in the book.

“The more you shout at me, Auntie, the longer the wait will be. I’ll stick you in the attic at Black Manor and leave you there forever if I hear that language again. You may thank me and I’ll close the curtain. Then I’ll take you off the wall when I’m good and ready to move your beautiful portrait. Understood?” Narcissa asked with her wand tip pointing directly at the center of Walburga’s painted face.

Walburga nodded, hands held up, surrendering to Narcissa. “Yes, niece. I understand. I’ll wait quietly.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back to move you in a little while.”

Narcissa pulled the curtain gently closed and heard the portrait sigh and she settled back into her painting.

“I can’t believe she listened to you,” Harry said by way of greeting Narcissa. “I’ve been trying to get through to her for years and she just screams at me.”

“She recognized me, Harry. It freaked her out having all these strangers and enemies in her house and to have no control or warning about when she would and wouldn’t see them.”

“Are you really going to take her to Crabbe’s house? I thought he was the guy who just threatened you.”

“I’m going to take her home with me and put her in my attic where Pepper and Filly can keep an eye on her and my trustworthy portraits can continue to keep a listen out for trouble with the others. That’s where I’ve stored all the tricky ancestors.”

“I’ve said it before and you just keep proving me right; brilliant,” Harry grinned at Narcissa who blushed in response.

“No,” she shook her head and waved him off.

“Now,” he said, sitting at the table and pouring tea. “On to why we’re meeting in secret at Grimmauld Place?”

“Hermione’s birthday, of course,” Narcissa smiled. “It’s next Saturday and I’d like to have a dinner party for her but I need your help inviting people. I’d like it to be special with the most important people there. I know we probably can’t get Ginny there but if there’s any chance she can make it, that would be lovely.”

“Actually, next weekend is a Hogsmead weekend at Hogwarts,” Harry laughed. “What if we have it at the Three Broomsticks? Rent the courtyard for a private dinner party? Kind of like Draco did with his ceremony, we could ward it.”

“That’s brilliant. Then Ginny could probably make it and Minerva and Hagrid.”

“Yep!”

Narcissa grabbed Harry’s hand, her eyes filling with tears, “I can’t explain how wonderful it is to have your support, Harry. Thank you for helping. I’m going to go book the Three Broomsticks. If that’s not available, I’m still going to do something in Hogsmeade so Ginny can be there. Can you help me make a small list of other people? It should be about a dozen I think. You, Ginny, Draco, Dean, Minerva, Hagrid, Neville, Luna, who else?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he promised. “You go take care of the Three Broomsticks. See you tonight!”

Narcissa was off, a happy bounce in her step. She was excited to plan a surprise for Hermione and what better day to surprise her than her birthday?