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Draco leaned against the lamppost, holding onto it with his right hand as the world dipped and swirled around him.  His left arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat, but the pain grew less every second, and the spinning slowed and stopped. 

When he felt confident enough to let go of the post, he peeled back his left sleeve and looked at the inside of his forearm.  The face of a great white snake looked back at him with deep-set red eyes.  He stroked it with his right hand, and the marking vanished, leaving only the two red holes, which faded until they looked like old scars. 

“A King,” he whispered.  “A King of Narnia.” 

He didn’t care for some of the things he would have to do, but he could see the necessity behind them.  In fact, the plan was so simple that he could see only one place it could snag, and that was up to him to overcome. 

Just some acting.  A lot of acting, but I should be up to it.  And then, once things get going, revolution, revelation, and coronation...

“Revolution, revelation, coronation,” he chanted aloud, under his breath.  “Revolution, revelation, coronation...”

“What?”

He looked up, startled.  Freeman stood at the other side of the clearing, staring at him.  “Nothing,” he said.  “I saw you go inside the wardrobe and thought I’d see what was going on.”

Freeman narrowed her eyes.  “I bet you don’t even know where we are.”

“Of course I do.  We’re in Narnia.”

“Who told you that?”

“No one.  I figured it out.” 

“Figured it out how?  You’d never read those books.  They’re Muggle things.”

Draco put his hands behind his back and gently squeezed his left forearm.  A small jolt of pain shot up his arm and through his shoulder and neck on its way to his brain.  “If I never read the books, how do I know we’re in Lantern Waste?” he challenged.  “Or that the wardrobe used to belong to a Professor named Digory Kirke?”  He had laughed heartily over this piece of irony when the Wizard had made him acquainted with it.  “Or that Lucy Pevensie was the first one to come through it, and then her brother Edmund came with her once, and Peter and Susan came with them the third time, to defeat the White Witch and be Kings and Queens of Narnia?”

Freeman’s look of suspicion was starting to be replaced by one of dubious belief.  “Fine then,” she said.  “So if you know where we are, you know which way we have to go to get back where we came from.”

Draco pointed.  “That way.”

Freeman lifted her nose in the air and started in the direction he’d indicated, muttering something as she passed that sounded like “Lucky guess.”  Draco kept his mouth shut.  He had a role to play now, and it was going to be probably the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. 

But the reward matches the job.  A King, a real King...

One second they were pushing through thick branches of fir and pine, the next they were among robes and shirts and trousers, and Freeman unlatched the wardrobe and leapt lightly out, Draco following her. 

The door of the bedroom opened just as Draco closed the wardrobe behind himself.  “See, it wasn’t that hard,” said Potter, coming out.  “And now it’s where you won’t forget it.”

“As long as I don’t send these robes through the wash,” said Granger.  She stopped in the doorway, frowning.  “What’s going on?”

“You’re not going to believe it,” said Freeman, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. 

“Why not?” Potter asked. 

“I think you’re not supposed to believe it.  I think you have to think it isn’t true.  But...” Freeman turned to look back at Draco.  “You’re going to lie, aren’t you?” she challenged.  “You’re going to say I made it up.”

Draco shut the door of the wardrobe and leaned against it.  “Depends on what you say,” he drawled.  “And how I feel about it.”

“What is it?” Granger asked. 

Freeman took a breath.  “We found Narnia,” she said.  “This is the wardrobe.  It’s all true.  I’ve been there twice, and he was there with me the second time.”

Granger stared at the wardrobe, then at Freeman, her face lighting up.  Draco had seldom seen her so excited.  “Just like the book!  Harry, it’s just like The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe—Lucy was first, then both her and Edmund...”

“And Edmund met the White Witch when he was there alone,” said Potter, looking at Draco.  “Who’d you meet, Malfoy?”

“Why should I have met anyone?  I’m not your brother.  Not even close.”

“But everything else does seem to fit,” said Granger, moving around to peer behind the wardrobe.  “The youngest goes in first, a girl, and meets someone—did you?”

“Yes, he’s a dryad, and his name is Oren.  He’s a willow tree.  And he told me all about what’s happening in Narnia now.  Do you want to hear?”

“Tell us,” said Potter, sitting down on his bed.  Granger claimed one of the chairs.  Draco stayed where he was.

“It’s been at least a thousand years since the Pevensies left Narnia,” Freeman began, her arms around each other, right hand rubbing her left elbow.  “But the tradition is still to have two Kings and two Queens at a time, in their memory.  They’re not always brothers and sisters, though, sometimes they’re married.  The Kings and Queens now are two married couples, King Ardan and Queen Ilana, and King Gilles and Queen Caelin.  Ardan and Ilana are the High King and Queen, but nobody makes a fuss about that except when there are ambassadors and things.”

“But how can they be Kings and Queens?” Potter asked.  “I thought only people from our world, Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, could be Kings and Queens of Narnia.”

“They have some human blood.  Not a lot—Queen Caelin is half human and she has the most—but they all have it.  But that’s why they need us.  They have a White Wizard, like the White Witch, except he’s not in power yet, and they want it to stay that way, and they need strong Kings and Queens to keep him down.”

“Where did he come from?” Granger asked.  “I know where the White Witch came from, but a White Wizard?”

“Some people say he’s the White Witch’s son,” said Freeman.  “And some people say he came out of the north.  But nobody’s sure.  He’s the White Wizard because he’s what they call a skin-turner, like an Animagus, and what he turns into is a great white snake.”

Draco kept his smile entirely internal. 

“This is sounding awfully familiar,” Potter said wearily. “Why me?”

“Because you’re a hero, Harry,” Granger said.  “No matter what world you’re in, you’re still a hero.”

“Well, what if I don’t want to be a hero anymore?  What if I just want to be normal?”  Potter got to his feet.  “Look, Meghan, I don’t think you’re lying.  This may well be the wardrobe that leads to Narnia.  But I don’t want to get pushed into another destiny.  One’s enough.”  He looked again at Draco.  “And even if I had to do it, I wouldn’t do it with you along.”

“Not like I want you along either,” Draco said, pressing his arm again to hold back panic.  Potter had to go along, or else everything would be spoiled.  “But don’t you think you should at least have a look in there?  See if it’s true or not?  Or are you too scared to do what I did?”

Potter hesitated visibly. 

“Knew it,” Draco said.  “Gryffindor courage isn’t worth a tin Knut.  All roar and no claws, that’s what you are...”

He ducked under Potter’s fist and took a quick step forward, running his head into Potter’s stomach and yanking the wardrobe door open at the same time.  “Come on, right in here,” he taunted, stepping up backwards into the wardrobe as Granger caught Potter, holding him up to let him recover his breath.  “Scaredy-lion.”

Potter launched himself away from Granger and dived into Draco just as he’d done to get them locked into the safe room in the first place.  Draco gritted his teeth, suddenly recalling that the wardrobe didn’t always lead to Narnia, and that this little game might end in a bruised skull and aching back for him...

But he fell backwards and landed at full length, Potter on top of him, and then he had no time for anything except keeping Potter’s fists away from his face, and hardly even noticed the change in the light to pale and bluish, or the feeling of leaves underneath them instead of polished wood, except as a vague and distant triumph. 

Step one of the plan had been set in motion. 


Hermione had tried to grab Harry, but he had brushed her aside and knocked Malfoy backwards into the wardrobe.  She had braced for the noise of two bodies colliding with a solid wall –

And it hadn’t come. 

“I told you!” Meghan cried.  “I told you, I told you!” 

“Never mind,” Hermione said sharply, racing across the room.  “We have to stop them...”

She leapt into the wardrobe and hurried towards the sounds of fighting.  “Harry, don’t!” she shouted.  “Let him go, he’s not worth it!  He was just trying to make you mad!” 

The noise did not abate.  Hermione drew her wand.  I’m going to be doing this a lot, I think.  Why on earth we had to be sent to Narnia with him...

Her first spell threw the boys apart, her second was a Body-Bind on Harry, and as she turned to do the same to Malfoy she discovered that Meghan had come in behind her and done it already.  “Mum taught me,” Meghan said, putting her wand away.  “She’s very good at it.”

Hermione leaned against a tree and caught her breath.  “Well,” she said.  “Here we are.”

“Should we let them up?” Meghan asked.  “They won’t be very comfortable there.”

“Right now, I don’t care.”  Hermione looked around her, breathing deeply.  “If we let them go, they’ll just fight again and we don’t need that.  I want to enjoy this for a minute.”  The bark under her hand was ridged and sticky with sap, which imparted a spicy smell to the air.  Even the moonlight silvering all the leaves and needles looked brighter than it did at home. 

“Narnia,” she whispered. 

She had dreamed, when she was little, of finding the wardrobe, or the picture of the ship, or the green and yellow rings that would take her to Narnia, and had thought when her Hogwarts letter came that maybe now it would happen to her.  But although she’d had adventures at Hogwarts, she’d never enjoyed them.  Her usual favorite part of an adventure was when it was over. 

She sometimes wondered, secretly, if the Sorting Hat hadn’t been right in wanting to put her in Ravenclaw.  But maybe Narnian adventures would be different.  Maybe here she could find the courage to enjoy adventures the way Harry and Ron did. 

I just wish Ron was here, instead of him. 

She gave Malfoy a poisonous glance, then turned to Harry and lifted the Body-Bind, hearing Meghan doing the same behind her.  “I don’t like cursing you,” she said to Harry.  “But we’re here, and I don’t think we’re meant to fight each other.”

“What are we meant to do then?” Harry got to his feet, brushing leaves and twigs off himself.  “Become Kings and Queens?”  He looked disdainfully at Malfoy.  “He’d probably run off to this White Wizard before we ever got started.  I bet he already has.”

“I haven’t run off anywhere,” said Malfoy, not bothering to stand up.  “And I’m not about to.  Why should I bother?  If the books are right, I’m going to be a King anyway.”

“Some King you’ll be,” said Meghan.  “I’m not being your Queen.”

“I don’t see you have a choice, Freeman.  We’re here, there’s four of us, they need Kings and Queens, looks like we’re it.  Maybe it would be to everyone’s advantage if we called a truce.”

“Truce?  With you?”  Harry looked as skeptical as Hermione felt.  “Give me one good reason we should believe you.”

“We have to beat this White Wizard before we can get home, right?  If we went back the way we came, we wouldn’t find any wardrobe there.  Just more forest.  So we’re stuck here until the White Wizard goes down, and it probably takes all four of us,” Malfoy put a very sarcastic spin on the word, “to do it.  Why not call truce until we get back where we came from?”

Harry looked at Malfoy searchingly, then turned and came over to Hermione.  Meghan ran across the clearing to join them.  “What do you think?” he asked them quietly. 

“He has a point,” Hermione said.  “The Pevensies would never have got through if they hadn’t all been here.”

“I don’t trust him,” said Meghan, glancing over her shoulder at Malfoy.  “He’s up to something, he always is.”

“You’re right,” said Harry.  “But you’re right too, Hermione.  If this is Narnia, and I think it must be, then we’re going to need him for something.”  He gave a brief grin.  “Maybe he’ll have a glorious death protecting the Lion banner on a battlefield.”

“I wish,” said Meghan. 

“We should make him swear that he won’t do anything against us,” said Hermione.  “On something he wouldn’t break.”

“He’s a Malfoy, Hermione,” said Harry tiredly.  “He’d break anything.”

“How about swearing on his face?” Meghan suggested.  “He’s always fussing with his hair and his skin.  You should see all the lotions and creams he has sitting around.”

“Oh, I like that.”  Hermione smiled, thinking of a jinx she’d run across recently.  “We can get him to sign a pledge, and tell him that if he doesn’t keep the promise, he’ll break out in terrible spots, and never get rid of them, ever.”

“Can you do that?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.  “I can make them spell a word, if you want,” she said.  “Maybe ‘UGLY.’”

Meghan burst into giggles, and even Harry laughed aloud. 

Malfoy looked sour when informed of their terms, but finally agreed, though he insisted on having a say in the way the pledge was worded, and that they all sign as well.  By the time four names were affixed to the parchment bearing a jinx for anyone who joined the side of the White Wizard, the moon was closer to setting than rising, and everyone was yawning mightily. 

“If we find the lamppost, we’ll be safe,” Meghan said.  “It’s almost as old as Narnia, and Aslan blessed it when it grew.  We can sleep there.”

“Not too hard to find,” said Harry, pointing at a distant yellowish glow.  “Just follow the light.”

Hermione looked about her as she walked, recalling other times she’d been out in a forest at night with Harry.  Once Malfoy had even been there, though their other companion then had been Neville and not a little Slytherin girl. 

And Malfoy was a berk then too.  She glared at Malfoy’s figure, silhouetted against the lamplight ahead.  Make one wrong move, ferret boy, I dare you...

But they reached the lamppost in peace, and found places to lie down, and despite the combined light of lamp and moon, Hermione found her eyes closing quickly. The ground seemed to cradle her gently as she sank into sleep. 

The last thing she saw was the flicker of light from Harry’s glasses as he laid them aside. 


Meghan awoke all at once in the gray light of dawn.  The lamp had gone out, but the sun was not quite up yet, and despite her late night, she felt strong and eager to rise.

Narnia.  Really, truly, Narnia.  And I’m to be a Queen. 

I only wish Mum could know. 

Her good mood evaporated with that thought.  Aletha Freeman was a dutiful mother to her child, but the silent specter of Meghan’s father had always haunted them, tainting everything they did.

Mum sees him in me.  I look like her mostly, but I have his eyes, and that’s what she sees. 

And now that they knew the truth about Sirius Black, both everything and nothing had changed.  Meghan had only met her father once in person, and longed to meet him again, but at the same time she was unwilling, for he was neither the hero-father she had created for herself nor the villain she knew from the newspapers and history books, and he barely seemed able to believe she existed, much less to love her.

And Mum feels like she should have known all along, and hates herself for not knowing, and takes it out on me...

She’d been thankful to escape her mother’s moods at Hogwarts, and was secretly and guiltily glad of this extra respite, however long it might last. 

The Pevensies were here for years and years, they grew up here, and then they were children again as soon as they went through the wardrobe.  But the other adventures took a few weeks, or a few months, and that was all.  Though we do seem to be closer to Peter and Susan and Edmund and Lucy than to anything else...

Her feet were moving in the direction of Oren’s stream, and she let them.  I can tell him we’ve all come.  He knows the way to the palace.  Beautiful Cair Paravel, on the eastern shore by the sea...


Harry woke all at once, panting, and looked around wildly.  The blurry things surrounding him were too tall to be gravestones, and there was no mocking laughter, no taunting voice.  He was safe. 

And I’m not going back to the Dursleys until we’re finished with whatever we have to do here.

That cheered him up considerably. 

Voldemort can’t find me in Narnia.

That cheered him still more.

But this White Wizard sounds a lot like Voldemort.  Doesn’t have a proper name, wants to be King, turns into a snake...

But unlike Voldemort, the White Wizard had no reason to hate or fear Harry Potter, except that Harry was a Son of Adam.  Theoretically, the Wizard should hate and fear all four of the newcomers equally, for all four of them had the power to become Kings or Queens.

Of course, Malfoy’s probably already found a way to go over to him.  Harry put on his glasses and regarded his sleeping enemy warily.  Jinx or no jinx, we’ll have to watch him...

I wonder how they decide which one of us will be High King?  If it’s just by age we’re in trouble, I’m almost the youngest in the year, he must be older than me... but they won’t do it like that, will they? He can’t be the High King, they won’t let him, not after they see what he’s like...

His vehemence on the subject surprised him.  He hadn’t known he cared so much. 

Malfoy will not be High King, he vowed silently.  Not if I can stop it. 

But that means I’d have to be. 

He didn’t like the idea, but anyone would have to be better than Malfoy.  Or would they?  Would somebody with no idea how to rule, who didn’t want the job, still be better than a tyrant who was nonetheless good at what he did? 

Harry was still trying to work this out when he heard footsteps, and Meghan pattered into view, carrying a small parcel done up in brown paper.  “Good morning,” she called when she saw him sitting up. “Isn’t it lovely?  I have breakfast.”

“Where did you get it?” 

“Oren gave it to me.  My dryad friend.  He has work to do this morning, but he gave me directions for the first part of the walk to Cair Paravel, and he’ll meet us at noon by the Silver Spring.”  Meghan dropped onto the grass beside Harry and started undoing the parcel as Hermione sat up, rubbing her eyes. 

Some small peaches and plums, still a bit hard so they would travel better, four fat rolls, and four wooden canteens with leather straps around them were disclosed.  “Oren will bring lunch with him to the spring,” Meghan said, taking a bite from a roll.  “Oh, these are good.  Sausage inside them—mm!” 

Malfoy picked up a canteen by its strap, looking at it distastefully, then took a roll and two pieces of fruit and returned to the spot where he’d spent the night.  Hermione scooted in and helped herself to the final roll.  “You’re right, they are good,” she said after her first bite.  “But I thought dryads didn’t eat what people eat.”

“They don’t.  Oren knows a family of Red Dwarves, one of them made these.  Their mum works at the palace, and she taught them all how to cook.”

“I like the sound of that,” said Harry with his mouth full of plum. 

The canteens held only water, but it was clear and cold, and the food was just as good as Meghan and Hermione had claimed.  When everyone had finished, a little water poured over hands solved washing up, and Meghan crumpled the brown paper and stuffed it into a pocket.  Everyone shouldered a canteen, and they started for Cair Paravel. 

“How long will it take to get there?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s a three-day walk...” Meghan began.

“Glorious,” Malfoy muttered.  “And we’ll all have blisters the size of Snitches when we’re done.”

But,” Meghan went on loudly, “we should only have to walk this morning, because the Silver Stream joins the Great River where it gets deep enough to have a boat, and a couple of fauns said we could use theirs.”  She twirled around and smiled triumphantly at Malfoy.  “So they’ll bring it to the Silver Spring sometime this morning, and the naiad of the spring will watch it for us until we get there, and then we’ll go down the river for the rest of the journey, which should only take until tomorrow noon.”

Malfoy grunted. 

Harry caught a flash of color out of the corner of his eye and turned to look.  A robin had lighted on a branch beside him, and as it saw him noticing it, preened its feathers for a moment, almost as if it were shy... but it couldn’t be...

“Hello?” he said to it tentatively. 

“Oh my!”  The Robin flew straight up in the air.  “Oh my goodness!  Your Highness—I beg your pardon, Your Highnesses—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, I’ll go, I’ll go straightaway...”

“Don’t be silly,” said Hermione.  “You weren’t bothering us.”

“Not bothering you?”  The Robin—which hadn’t been trying to fly away very hard for a startled bird, Harry thought—landed neatly on a branch at eye level and folded its wings.  “Thank you, Princess, you’re very kind.”

Hermione stared at it.  “Princess?” she said. 

The Robin cocked its head.  “You are a Daughter of Eve?” it asked doubtfully.  “Not just a nymph in odd clothing?”

“We’re human,” Harry said over Hermione’s furious mutters that her clothing was not odd and Malfoy’s sniggers.  “All four of us.”

“Ah.”  The Robin ruffled its feathers in satisfaction.  “I knew I couldn’t be that far wrong.  Your Highness, since I’m not bothering you, might I ask one tiny favor?”

“What kind of favor?”

“Might I... might I possibly... might I know Your Highnesses’ names?  Only to spread your fame, you understand,” the Robin added quickly.  “It’s already all over Narnia that you’ve come, but hardly anyone has talked to anyone who’s seen you, and no one knows your names, so if I could...”

“I’m Harry,” Harry said before the bird could say anything else.  “This is Hermione, and Meghan, and Draco.” 

“Prince Harry,” the Robin repeated to itself.  “Prince Draco.  Princess Hermione.  And Princess Meghan.  Thank you, Your Highnesses, thank you very much indeed, and if you ever happen to need an extra set of eyes, my name’s Kas and I’m very much at your service... and that goes if you ever have a surplus of worms around, as well...”

And Kas spread his wings and leapt into the air, leaving only a swaying branch behind him. 

“Having trouble remembering, Granger?” Malfoy inquired.  “Or maybe you never thought you’d get within spitting distance of anyone with a title, let alone have one yourself.”

“Come off it, Malfoy,” said Harry.  “I don’t think any of us ever thought we’d be royalty.”

Malfoy smirked.  “Speak for yourself.  Father always told me I’d be a prince someday.”

Meghan stuck her finger into her mouth and made a gagging noise. 

“It is hard to believe,” Hermione said, still looking into the sky where Kas had gone.  “Harder than my Hogwarts letter, I suppose.  Because I had no idea, before my letter came, that anything like Hogwarts existed.  But I have all these ideas about Narnia.  Things I think I already know.  Things like the end of it—how are we here?” she suddenly demanded, whirling on the other three.  “How are we here, when Narnia died forty years ago by our world’s time, when Peter shut the Stable Door to Aslan’s country?”

Meghan and Malfoy both looked baffled, though Malfoy was also looking warily at the sky, as though expecting it to fall any moment.  Harry shrugged.  “I guess it’s the time thing again,” he said, piecing it out as he spoke.  “If the Pevensies could live here for years and go back to our world the same second they left it, and then come back a year later by our time and have it be thousands of years later here, then is there really any reason we can’t be in the middle of that now?”

“It never went back and forth in the books,” said Hermione.  “Narnia started when Digory and Polly were children, and in the middle of the history was the Pevensies when Digory was the old Professor, and then came the Telmarines and Caspian and Rilian, and Eustace and Jill from our world.  It always went forward, never back.”

“But Aslan can do anything,” Meghan spoke up.  “And we already knew there were lots of pieces of the history of Narnia we only knew a little bit about.  Like everyone who came in between King Frank and Queen Helen and the Pevensies.  We just know little things about them.  And we knew there was lots of history between the Pevensies and the Telmarines, but we hardly knew anything about it, and now we’re part of it.”

“And we’re not getting anywhere, historical or otherwise, just standing here,” said Malfoy, starting forward.  “Move.”

Meghan squinted at the sun.  “Have a nice time,” she called after him, starting in a slightly different direction.  “We’ll send you a postcard.  Or maybe Kas will come and find you.”

Harry shared a grin with Hermione as they heard Malfoy crashing through the underbrush to bring up the rear. 


Draco rubbed his left arm, feeling pleased.  Things were going just as planned.  They had arrived, the whole country knew about them, and best of all, they didn’t have to walk the whole breadth of Narnia to get where they were going.  Draco was not fond of walking.  That was why broomsticks had been invented. 

Of course, there were no broomsticks here, and no Floo travel either.  He wondered if they would be able to Apparate, but since none of them knew how, it was beside the point.

He reviewed his instructions in his head. 

Get them into Narnia.  Done. 

Start for the palace.  Done. 

Inasmuch as you can without arousing suspicion, act their friend.  Alter your behavior little by little.  Make it appear that you are learning the error of your ways.  Not done, but in process.  It was going to take time, but Draco was confident that he could manage to worm himself into their good graces eventually. 

Especially with what he knew was up ahead.  Because the next item on his list was, Do not drink from the Silver Spring.  And the Wizard had explained, in detail, why not...


Kas was only the first.  The Talking Animals of the forest lined the path all morning, popping out of holes in ground or trees, flying or running to the edge of the trees, and staring.  Several young Talking Mice ran up the side of Meghan’s robes, making her screech, until their mother popped out of the forest scolding in a voice that reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley, only an octave and a half higher. The Mice tumbled off Meghan and scurried to the side of the path, pausing to bob and squeak out, “Our apologies, Princess.”

A large Crow flapped ponderously down near Malfoy and watched him pass, bowing deeply to him, and only to him, Harry noticed.  The rest of the Animals were bowing to all four of them.  Meghan was smiling brightly, and Malfoy was lapping it up, of course, but Hermione seemed uncomfortable, and Harry took a moment when there were very few observers to ask her about it. 

“I... I suppose I should get used to it,” Hermione said, spilling a little water from her canteen onto her hand and rubbing it on her forehead.  “If I’m going to be a Queen.  But... Harry, do you know how strange that sounds?  Me, a Queen?  I don’t know how to rule things!  I’ve never ruled anything in my life!”

“You think I have?” Harry asked, making her laugh.  “Look, Hermione, I don’t know what’s coming.  But I do know we’re going to be together.  You and me.” 

Hermione took his offered hand.  “And Meghan,” she said, looking ahead at the girl.  “You know, in a way I’m almost glad Ron isn’t here.”

“Why?”

“Well...”  Hermione looked down at the ground.  “I don’t suppose there’s any harm in telling you now,” she said quietly.  “Harry, I rather like Ron.”

“Er, yes,” said Harry.  “I rather like Ron too.”

Hermione giggled.  “No, you don’t understand.  I mean, I like him.”

“You... oh.”  Several events suddenly made themselves much clearer to Harry, especially portions of the Yule Ball.  “And... does he...”

“I don’t know.  But I hope he does.  I think he might.  I don’t know why else he would have been so stupid about Viktor.  But I just don’t know.  And... it would have felt strange, being crowned alongside him.  I know the Kings and Queens are sometimes married now, but I feel like it should be all for all, do you see?  They should either be all married, or not be at all.”  Hermione looked at him coyly.  “Now if Cho had come with us, instead of Meghan...”

Harry glared at her, but couldn’t hold it for long, as he thought it over.  “No,” he said finally.  “It wouldn’t work out right.  I can’t see Cho here, somehow.  She doesn’t seem to fit.”

“So it’s just as well, then,” said Hermione, fastening the top of her canteen again.  “I mean, we’ll still be the same age when we go back.  It’s not like we’ll lose our chances.  But I will miss Ron.”

“I know.  So will I.”

“Are you coming?” Malfoy shouted back towards them.  “Or should I just tell them at the palace it’ll only be one King and one Queen this time?”

“You know, he sounds almost friendly,” said Harry as they set off again. 

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