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What Hermione Wants	By : HermioneCosplayer Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 7039 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Chapter 17 (The Ceremony)

Guilt. Hermione was finishing up her dinner on Friday evening, but she couldn’t really taste anything through the guilt she felt. She recalled her private conversation with Ginny earlier that afternoon when she had hinted that Ginny would be getting a vague message from her later tonight relating to a school head function. It had been simple, Ginny just shrugged and said, “sure.” Hermione had more details ready just in case, but they hadn’t been needed.

After trying so hard to try to talk to her on Thursday, Harry had realized that Hermione just wasn’t ready yet and gave her some space. As he left the Great Hall, he hoped that she would be back to her old self soon. He was feeling terrible about the carriage ride and was seriously considering confessing the whole thing to Dumbledore to clear his conscience and to look for reassurance, or perhaps even absolution, to prove that he wasn’t some sort of horrible monster. The last time he felt so unsure of himself was in second year when he wondered if there was a possibility if perhaps he was the heir of Slytherin. Maybe he had led a sheltered life in many respects, but he knew that real men didn’t hit women. Unless, of course, the women happened to be Death Eaters, but that was another matter entirely.

Hermione and Draco had been told to remain in the Great Hall after dinner had finished, and once the rest of the students had filed out of the room, the doors were shut with a resounding thud behind them, leaving them alone with Headmaster Dumbledore, and Professors McGonagall and Snape.

The Professors were still sitting in the staff area and the Headmaster called for them, “Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, we’re ready for you.”

They exchanged glances and approached the staff table.

Professor Dumbledore showed them one of the oldest Galleons either had ever seen. “I believe it’s Head Boy’s year. Call it in the air, if you please, Mr. Malfoy,” and Dumbledore tossed the coin in the air.

Draco quickly called, “Heads,” as they watched the coin flip through the air.

Hermione thought to herself, ‘this is it? Just a quick coin toss then pick a gift? It couldn’t be this mundane, could it?’ It was one thing to decide privately decide to take the Slytherin gift, but the dinner dishes weren’t even cleared away!

The coin landed heads down. Hermione felt like her heart had stopped.

Professor Dumbledore looked at Hermione, “Ah, Miss Granger. When we are ready for the ceremony later this evening, you will be making the first selection.”

Hermione nodded. Her handbook had so little information about the ceremony, but it made sense to her that there was something more to it. There just seemed to be something wrong about selecting something that could lead to the wisdom of the ages or a personal slave with treacle tart remains on the floor.

Professor Dumbledore spoke again. “Miss Granger, Professor McGonagall will help you prepare and Mr. Malfoy, Professor Snape will be assisting you. Please make sure to follow their instructions precisely.”

Hermione and Draco acknowledged the instruction and two passages opened up in the walls on opposite sides of the Great Hall. Minerva walked to the passage on her left. “Please follow me, Miss Granger,” she requested and they exited the Great Hall to yet another passage Hermione hadn’t seen before.

**

They didn’t have far to go down the torch lit passage until they got to the door Professor McGonagall was looking for. She opened the door and they entered the room. It was decorated very simply with a few places to sit and was lit with candles. Hermione also noticed a door leading to another room.

Minerva gestured to Hermione to sit down. “I’m sure you’re wondering what happens next?”

Hermione nodded.

Minerva smiled; Hermione didn’t even want to waste time with questions. “No matter which gift you select, it means a large, lifetime gain in your magical power in a very short period of time. We’re going to spend some time preparing you for that.”

Hermione was puzzled for a moment. “All of them?”

Yes, Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall answered. “Each of the gifts leave the receiver with additional permanent magical power in what can be summed up as Courage, Knowledge, Success, or Charisma.” Minerva could see the wheels turning behind Hermione’s eyes. “Yes, Dear. There is a lifetime benefit attached to the Slytherin gift that could be useful if one were to be going into politics or something of the sort. I hope you aren’t offended by the earlier omission of that information. Since it is a gift that has not been selected over fifty years and with your feelings about out house elves, it’s not something gone into in great detail anymore.”

“Of course,” Hermione answered. “What comes next?”

“We’ll be starting a cleansing process. Your part is private and beyond that door. I’ll remain here and I’ll be supporting you with meditation and a few simple rituals.”

Hermione acknowledged that she had heard with a nod, but really wanted Professor McGonagall to hurry up and tell her everything.

“Are you familiar with the concept of a Japanese bath?” Minerva asked?

Hermione’s eyes grew wide. “As in baturatural hot springs where men and women run around naked together with only tiny little modesty towels at resorts?”

“It might be easier to show you.” Professor McGonagall decided and opened the door leading to the next room. “As you can see, it’s very private in here. I took the liberty of gathering your bath things from your room. The difference between what you are used to and the procedure here is that you are to bathe and wash your hair before entering the bathtub. There is a stool you can sit on right next to the drain on the floor and a bucket to use to rinse your hair. Once you are completely clean, have a nice soak in the tub for a while. Just let your thoughts go where they will. There are some special potion ingredients to help you relax and prepare for the additional powers. You should stay in the water for about a half hour, but you’ll be able to tell when it is time to get out.”

Hermione smelled the water. “This smells nice, and not like most of the potions I’ve had to brew.”

“Once you are finished soaking, there are towels available on that shelf right there and your hairbrush is with your bath things.” Minerva opened the wardrobe door. Please leave all of your regular clothing here, and once you are dry, please change into these Ceremonial Robes before coming back into the other room where I’ll be waiting for you.”

Hermione admired the pretty white robe that almost seemed iridescent. It was so different from what she thought of as witches’ robes. It had the high mandarin collar and frog closures, accented in the red and gold of Gryffindor, that hinted of the Far East styling of a Chinese cheongsam. It was fitted through the bust and waist, but was very full through the hips, and reached down almost to her feet. There wlmoslmost enough material for a hoop skirt! She assumed it was charmed to fit correctly. Hermione wanted some clarification. “Nothing but the robe?”

Minerva smiled. “Not exactly, dear. Do not wear any of the clothing you brought with you and please remove any jewelry as well, but there are some additional garments to wear under the robe and on your feet. They’ll seem a bit old fashioned to you, but you won’t have to feel like you are exposed.”

Hermione relaxed. For a moment she thought she was receiving poetic justice for the prank she had Draco had played on the new 5th year prefects.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’ll let you get started. Stand still for a moment.” Professor McGonagall took out her wand and waved it over Hermione’s head and chanted some ancient Latin very quietly.

Even with Hermione’s studies, she only was able to pick up a few words of strength and protection; the forms were unfamiliar. She instantly felt a pleasant warm glow. Minerva turned, left the room and shut the door behind her.

Hermione took off her robe, school uniform, shoes, socks, and under things, and carefully folded them and placed them in the wardrobe next to the ceremonial clothing. She noticed that in addition to her usual bath items, there was a huge natural sponge and a back brush. It felt strange, almost like being ill and having a sponge bath -- she was so used to washing her hair while in the shower with the water running over her -- but it was kind of fun and different as well.

Once she rinsed all the soap from her body and conditioner from her hair, she entered the wooden tub. The water was very hot, so she had to climb in slowly to allow her body to get used to the temperature. She kept her hands out of the water most of the time so they wouldn’t become waterlogged too soon.

The smell of the water helped her relax and easily brought her to a hypnotic, meditative state. She thought of the Gryffindor gift and a portion of the battle with Voldemort that had happened less than six months ago. At the last moment, she had on the ground barely able to move like many others. Harry had been the last one standing and managed to fire off a last attack. For a few precious seconds, it had looked like Harry had fulfilled the prophecy, but moments later, Voldemort opened his eyes, and disapparated. Hermione was confused. Harry should have been made Head Boy. He was the one with the prophecy; he was the one that had a real purpose for additional power! Yet Dumbledore felt she needed more bravery? What fight or cause hadn’t she given her all to? It just didn’t make sense.

What about Success? Success in the War? In love? In making sure no magical creatures are exploited? And then there’s Knowledge. She imagined how much knowledge she would have at her fingertips if she would have even if she only used the Ravenclaw gift to learn languages, dialects and linguistics. Imagine, no language barriers to hold her back from learning. Now that was power!

Though she tried to avoid it, she thought more about the Slytherin gift. Though she wasn’t a classic beauty, she was aware that sometimes boys looked at her when she walked by. Over the years, she had finally figured out that she was had the kind of looks that men seemed to argue about. If one described her as just pretty, the other would disagree and say she was simply breathtaking. Yet if another described her as beautiful, the other would disagree and claim she was attractive or OK, but nothing special. She had finally accepted the fact that she was ‘pretty,’ but that wasn’t what was important if she wanted a career at the Ministry and wanted to influence public opinion about other magical creatures. The additional Charisma that accompanied the Slytherin gift would be useful. But then again, it could be one big case of coming up with a justification for wanting to be able to look deep into a certain pair of green eyes any time she wanted. It was so wrong, but would the ends justify the means if it meant that in the future, she would have some additional skills to help free a whole race of slaves?

Draco Malfoy was new to the equation. Even after everything he had done to her for the past six years, she had to admit that she was seeing him in a new light and there was some attraction there. She got the feeling that there was some truth to what he told her, she just didn’t know how much and which parts to trust. He was up to something, but what? Did he just want her to not to select the gift the Order felt was best? Another idea that she hadn’t thought of before came to mind. Draco said that he thought that he might be falling in love with her, but he wanted her to get Harry out of her system first. He said it was so he’d never have to wonder if she were thinking of Harry and not him.

Hermione shook her head and wondered how she could have been so blind. Maybe it was the truth; Draco had fallen in love with her, he knew she cared for Harry and he wanted him out of the way. Even if she and Harry were able to get past the strange beginning to relationship, it would get back to Harry that she had set Ginny up. Draco had made sure to put her in a situation that would assure his own success and distance her from her friends. Even worse, Hermione had first selection. Even if she selected the Gryffindor gift, Draco could still select Ginny, which would be traced to Hermione’s influence. If Hermione selected Ginny to protect her, there was always the chance of Draco retaliating and selecting Harry, which was something that she didn’t want to think about.

Hermione tried to come up with an alternative. Maybe he his feelings were real, maybe she was starting to feel an attraction for him...their intellectual discussions had been the most interesting conversations with someone her own age she had ever had. Perhaps she could play the same game and make Draco think that she had come to a decision about their relationship, and thought it best for both of them to just take the Ravenclaw gift? Maybe there would be a few minutes for them to talk? If not, while they were standing together, perhaps she could smile, touch his arm and catch his eye during her selection. Certainly that would be enough of a clue to him that she had been doing some thinking.

Hermione began to drift off. She wasn’t falling asleep; it was more of a deeper meditative state. She saw visions of previous Head Boys and Girls and how their powers had been used in times of great need. She saw how the additional bravery had given Lily and James Potter the strength to sacrifice themselves for their son. She also saw people from the past that she only recognized from prints made from wood cuts in the oldest books in the library standing up to injustices in their time. The multitudes of former Head Boys and Girls faded to be replaced by what appeared to be a vision of the four foundersHogwHogwarts themselves. Hermione would have loved to ask questions, but she seemed to only be able to observe and listen.

Godric Gryffindor spoke, “Mistress Granger. You are one of my own and you are quite brave.”

Rowena Ravenclaw continued, “Mistress Granger. You are not of my own, but you could easily be. Your intelligence is as fine as any that has ever graced the school.”

Helga Hufflepuff added, “You are no stranger to hard work to achieve you goals, Mistress Granger. Though other houses have a much stronger claim to you, I would have been proud to have you as one of my own.”

Salazar Slytherin continued the evaluation. “Mistress Granger. You are not one of my own and it is not a matter of bloodline. You would give up a far greater gain for the masses because of a small sacrifice for one.”

Hermione looked to the founders for more guidance and clarification, but all four began to fade. She shook her head and they were gone. She had no idea if what she had witnessed was just a dream or, in fact, a real vision.

She decided to get out of the tub and get dried off and dressed. She towel dried her hair as best as she could, and investigated the undergarments she would need to wear. They were quite old fashioned. There was a white chemise top instead of a bra, which she pulled over her head, and on the bottom she dressed in a pair of bloomers. She then pulled on a pair of white satin slippers made very much like ballet shoes. At this point, she unfastened the frog closures on the silk Head Girl robe and pulled it over her head. It was large at first, but once she fastened all of the closures, it adjusted perfectly to her size. She stood in front of the full-length mirror and began brushing the tangles from her hair. It was still slightly damp when she opened the adjoining door.

Professor McGonagall had been deep in meditation when Hermione entered the outer room. Once she was aware of her presence she stood and turned to look at Hermione. “You look lovely in that robe. I’ve always liked the design. It’s very easy to forget that the magical community is global. The Head Boy and Head Girl robes are quite old and come from China.” Minerva gestured for Herm to to sit down, and she began brushing her hair, making two very small braids to pull back near her temples, and then placed a freshly woven wreath of white roses, sweet peas, and mugwort on her head.

Minerva helped Hermione up. “How do you feel, Miss Granger?”

“Strange,” Hermione answered honestly. “I feel kind of tingly.”

Minerva nodded. “That is a good sign. I know you’ve never been a believer in Divination, but some students report visions while in meditation...”

Hermione pondered for a moment. “I saw something. I couldn’t with 100% certainty classify it as a vision, but it was unusual for my imagination or dreams.”

Minerva smiled and shook her head, “Always the skeptic. Sometimes I wonder how I ever convinced you that you were a witch in the first place.” She opened the door to the main torch lined passage and Hermione followed.

“I seem to recall that took a special waver to allow me to practice first year spells at home by myself or I wouldn’t believe it wasn’t someone elaborately staging a gigantic practical joke and you had to make me promise to only work from the first year book, nothing from any other materials purchased from Flourish and Blotts.” Hermione remembered. “What happens next?”

“Once we get back to the Great Hall, I’ll wait for you at the door while you select your gift. The Headmaster will facilitate. Draco and Professor Snape will be waiting by the other door for their turn.” Professor McGonagall explained. “Oh, here we are. Silence except when the Headmaster speaks to you, dear.”

**

Minerva opened the door to the Great Hall and Hermione instantly noticed it looked very different. All of the student tables had been removed and the hall was quite dark and the enchanted sky had no moon, but the stars were bright. The four house ghosts, Sir Nicholas, The Fat Friar, The Grey Lady and The Bloody Baron’s glow added to the atmosphere, and candles lit the table in front of where Headmaster Dumbledore stood. Even Hermione’s robe provided a tiny bit of light.

Professor McGonagall kissed her cheek and whispered to her, “It’s time. Approach the Headmaster.”

Hermione began walking to where the long teachers table was usually located. In its place was a smaller table covered with white fabric that seemed similar to her robe and there seemed to be four vessels of some sort on the table. Dumbledore stood behind the table and in many ways Hermione felt like she was taking part in some sort of religious ceremony. She did look the part; in her beautiful robe and the flowers in her hair, she did have the appearance that rivaled any image of a pagan princess or faerie, the only thing she was lacking was a pair of wings.

Each of houshouse ghosts bowed or curtsied to her in turn, but Sir Nicholas had to have a something to say about everything. He commented to The Grey Lady in what to him was a discreet voice, “I don’t know why he even bothers to show up,” and he nodded to the Bloody Baron. “No one ever takes the gift from his house.”

The Grey Lady did her best to quiet him, “Hush, Sir Nicholas. It’s not often one of his own is here.”

Sir Nicolas saw her point but still had to get in the last word, which he accomplished with a simple, “Hmmmph!” and he turned away so quickly that he needed to readjust his head.

She reached the table and saw that the four vessels resembled ornately decorated Faberge eggs, one for each of the four houses. One was red and gold, the next blue and bronze, followed by yellow and black, and last of all, green and silver. Dumbledore looked at Hermione with a look she couldn’t quite place. “Miss Granger, have you considered all of your options?”

“Yes, sir. I have.” She answered, doing her best to not sound too distracted between as her mind drifted back and forth between remembering what it was like to kiss Harry the other afternoon by the lake, and the idea of unlimited knowledge.

“Please select your gift, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore requested and gestured to the vessels on the table in front of him.

She closed her eyes for a moment and then reached out. Hermione opened her eyes and her hands lingered for a moment over the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw, but passion won over intellect. She lifted the green and silver container and clearly spoke, “I select the gift of Slytherin.”

Both Professor McGonagall and Snape gasped and in unison spoke, “Hermione!” The Bloody Baron spun around and laughed maniacally. Minerva had to lean against the wall to keep from falling over from shock. How could she have misjudged what she thought was such an innocent young girl?

Dumbledore raised an arm to quiet them, “Silence! Our Head Girl has made her selection!” He looked at her with a look she was unable to figure out. “To whom will you be bonded?”

Hermione did her best not to squirm or to show fear. She looked directly into Dumbledore’s eyes and said, “To Harry Potter, Sir.”

Dumbledore raised his voice to speak to Sir Nicholas, “Sir Nicholas, please go to Gryffindor Tower and tell Harry Potter that I am requesting his presence in the Great Hall right away please. You are to not give him any additional information. Miss Granger, please wait with Professor McGonagall.”

Sir Nicholas was pleased to actually have a something to do and headed to Gryffindor tower. Hermione replaced the green and silver container and walked back to Professor McGonagall who was unable to look at her student.

Draco, looking quite handsome in the male version of the ceremonial Head Boy robes, was also quite surprised Hermione had actually selected the Slytherin gift. She had been both quite intoxicated and tired by the time they had their discussion late last night. His robe was also white silk with a Mandarin collar accented with green and silver accents. Instead of being fitted, it hung loosely to past his knees, and also had matching white silnts.nts.

He reached the table and looked at Dumbledore. The Bloody Baron continued spinning andcingcing in flight around the Great Hall; he hadn�t enjoyed himself so much in a long time! Headmaster Dumbledore had hoped that the year away from his father and even such a short time with Hermione would have a good influence on Draco. Had his risk been miscalculated? “Mr. Malfoy, have you considered all of your options?”

Draco�s mind was very clear and he knew exactly what he wanted with no hesitation. He reached for the red and gold container and answered, “I select the gift of Godric Gryffindor!”

If Hermione’s selection had caused shock, the reaction to Draco’s could only be described as cardiac arrest. If the Bloody Barron hadn’t already been dead, this would have killed him. He stopped his flying and spinning and began sulking and sinking slowly through the floor down to the deepest Hogwarts dungeons. For a moment, both Draco and Hermione thought they saw a gleam in Dumbledore’s eyes that could only be described as triumph, but it quickly faded and they each thought they must have been mistaken.

Dumbledore continued, “Open the container, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco removed the lid from the cover of the ornately decorated red and gold egg shaped vessel and warm red light filled the room. A disembodied voice spoke, “Draco Malfoy, you are hereby granted courage and additional power when fighting for the righteous.”

Hermione watched with awe. She still wasn’t willing to believe that this wasn’t some elaborate plan to win her over, but even it was, from what he had said about his views on the upcoming war, he had just taken the gift that would mean the least to him. He had also made it so she was only betraying Ginny on one level and not two. Draco replaced the Gryffindor container and had returned to wait with Professor Snape.

Professor McGonagall had moved to the door to the Great Hall to wait for Harry. Once Sir Nicholas entered the Hall, she knew Harry had arrived. She opened the door and let Harry in.

Harry looked around the Great Hall in wonder. He saw Hermione and thought she looked like some sort of a princess or something else...perhaps...a bride? Then he noticed Malfoy in some sort of matching outfit that might have been nice, but because he was so fair, it was hard to tell him from the ghosts. Harry panicked. Had something happened and was Hermione being forced to marry Malfoy? It certainly looked like some sort of ceremony and Professor McGonagall looked quite upset.

Harry couldn’t stand it anymore. He spoke with desperation but quietly so only Professor McGonagall could hear him, “Don’t let her go though with it. I’ll marry her and take care of it like it was my own!”

TBC

A/N

So many reviewers said such nice things! WOW! I hope I can live up to your expectations. I tried harder with the spelling this time, but my husband didn't beta it first. Once he catches up with the other chapters we'll start doing that. :)
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What Hermione Wants