The Lost Horcrux

The Mistress of the Manor

Disclaimers: Dark themes, police state ideas, mention of spousal abuse on and off-screen, death of minor characters, graphic imagery and violence, frank sex discussion, copious bad language, bashing the fucking Weasleys and Dumbledore, liberties taken with mythical history.

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The Blue Palace, the ancestral home of the Potter family, was situated in a valley of some local importance, at the heart of a vast parkland containing of great variety of ground. The outer areas had been turned over to the employment of farms and agriculture, while closer in Harry had planted sweeping fields of barley, a dense orchard, and a vineyard so large that the rows of hanging grapes and hop plants disappeared over the rise of a low hillock in the near distance.

For brewing was Harry's most favourite hobby and, if he and Neville could have gotten away with it, they'd have spent most of their free time concocting new wines and beers and ciders, or else getting merrily drunk on the fruits of their labour.

The Manor House itself was a large, handsome stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a range of rolling hills crowned by outcrops of stone or tufts of wild woodland. The palace had seven levels, of which Harry's personal rooms took up all of the very top one, and at least two more below ground that Hermione knew of. Her bedroom suite was on the fourth of these floors, just along the corridor from where Neville and Enola lived, in the roundtower of the North-east corner.

There were, of course, only two other roundtowers left, since Harry had destroyed the North Western one during his infamous tantrum. The maintainence elves had simply left the ruin there, as a memorial to Harry's power, claiming that it gave the building 'character'.

The Southernmost and 'front' face of the house was accessed by way of a narrow causeway, which connected to a road of stone that snaked, with some abruptness, around a stream, that had been swelled into a greater body of water to form a small lake in front of the house. Its banks were well kept and not at all falsely adorned, and always gave Hermione the impression that this was a place for which nature could not have done more, and one which was lucky to have not been spoiled by a tasteless human hand.

Among the grounds and gardens nearest to the house were many delightful walking paths, that curved into the pretty groves and woodlands which flanked the stream. Now that she was fit and able, Hermione delighted in indulging her passion for nature by rambling along these paths for hours on end, hoping one day to make an entire circle of the park. But these hopes were dashed, however, by the stark words of the Head Gardener-Elf, who was named Gwillym, who informed her that the perimeter of the boundary ward was at least twelve miles around and far too much to manage on foot in a single day.

So Hermione decided that she'd have to get Harry to buy her a little open-topped carriage and a couple of cute ponies to make the circuit. He would definitely oblige her, because he loved nothing more than doing things to make her happy, which was a power that Hermione knew she'd have to develop a serious resistance against selfishly exploiting too often.

But she would indulge herself this once. Besides, it was her birthday coming up soon ... and that would make a perfectly lovely gift.

But till then she'd have to content herself with merely those parts of the park that she could reach on foot, and there were still plenty of those to be had. And it was a good thing, too, for Hermione needed something to occupy her time.

After all, since the attack on the Hengest Camp, Hermione, still bearing the hated surname of her marriage into bondage, had been formerly declared as an Enemy of the Magical State ... and as such once again found herself a prisoner in her own home.