The Muggle's Wise Daughter

Chapter 2

Hermione still remembered the first time she was led to her quarters and she met Molly, the head maid that had served the former Queen, Narcissa.

The sleeping quarters were almost as large as her whole home and the King had not lied when he said that Maid Molly would be pleased to take care of a woman. The older woman had washed and combed her hair with a mother's tenderness. Hermione was not sure her hair had been that soft in a very long time.

The Muggle's daughter still thought the periwinkle blue gown was too much, that something simpler would be more appropriate. But Molly had laughed, told her to stay still and instead added a blue ribbon to her hair as well.

Breakfast had been served in her room, and the ginger-haired plump woman had brought her to the Throne room to attend her father's exoneration. Hermione could not have stopped the tears that fell down her face, as she heard King Draco say how Jonathan was a free man.

Even though her father had been absolved from his crimes, King Draco did not trust him enough to let him rejoin his group of advisers. In his place, he had chosen his daughter, Hermione, and bestowed a title upon her.

Hermione Granger, The Muggle's Wise Daughter, was King Draco's most cherished member of the Council. And three months later they had married. And Hermione was crowned Queen by her beloved wise husband.

She stopped in front of her old quarters, stroking the door, she could not believe they had lost Molly to a sudden illness. She felt one hand brush her back gently. "Tell me what I can do to help, my dear," Draco whispered.

She shook her head. It was foolish, she knew it sounded foolish, but Molly had cared for her during the three years she had been in the palace. It was like a mother to her. "I do not believe I'm fit to attend the Court of Audiences today." She said.

"The people will miss you, but they will understand your absence, do not worry, My Queen. You shall rest. I'll come to tend to you in a few hours." He kissed her temple.

"Draco?" She asked as he turned back to her, a few steps away. "Thank you for understanding and not chastising me."

"I loved Maid Molly as well, Hermione, she cared for me like she cared for everyone like I was a son. Rest, dearest." He said simply.

*****

Draco had not realized how dull the plebeian audiences truly were until that moment. Hermione enjoyed them dearly, and he had been content with listening and watching her deliberate each request, each pledge. His Wise Queen.

His last audience of the day was of two peasants seeking ownership of a foal. A mare had given birth to the foal that ran off and laid down under an ox. Draco was a good king, the royal family adoration and acceptance had been rising since he married Hermione, and he understood how important his decisions were. And he considered himself reasonable and astute, but that evening, he just wished to go join his wife in bed.

"If the foal chose to leave the mare who bore it and seek refuge with the ox, I say it belongs where it was found." Draco determined, raising from his throne, and declaring the end of the audience.

He found Hermione still in her old quarters, laying in bed, sleeping peacefully. The young king gathered her on his arms and the brunette stirred, large brown tourmaline eyes looking at him. "Rest, Hermione, just taking you to our room so you are more comfortable."

She nodded. "Tell me about the audiences."

Draco kissed the top of her head, he should have known she would ask about the peasant's requests. The King told her about the old couple who asked for investment so they could publish their book about runes. They had dedicated most of their lives to the study of ancient runes. He was halfway through the tale of the wandering foal when her breathing slowed and she had drifted to sleep once more, her cheeks wet with tears.