Hermione watched from the back of the procession as the king entered Westminster Abbey, where the funeral of the queen was being held. Hermione had fully expected her sister to attend along side her, but was informed that she would be attending on the arm of Sir Thomas Riddle. Hermione was becoming increasingly alarmed at Narcissa's closeness to that man, who always looked as if he wanted to devour her whole.

It wasn't his mannerisms that made her hair stand on end, it was the way he looked at her, his cold green eyes shone with desire every time Narcissa stepped into a room. It made Hermione uneasy when he gaze shifted onto her person; it was like he was undressing her with his very eyes. Narcissa, on the other hand seemed to revel in the attention that he lavished upon her. Hermione was half expecting to hear from her brother that Sir Thomas had wished to become betrothed to her older sister.

Hermione gazed at the oncoming coffin of the queen as it was laid to rest on the marble slab at the head of the church. It had been lavishly decorated with white and red roses, signifying the Tudor reign, and yellow roses to show respect for Queen Lucretia's heritage. Hermione could hear small insignificant sobs coming from the head of the church and looked around for the source of the noise.

It seemed the king himself had also heard the strange noises that seemed to be coming from within the church. He looked swiftly behind him and his eyes locked with Hermione's, she gave a small gentle nod, and his eyes burned with intensity and gratefulness at her small gesture.

Hermione scanned the hall and her gaze came to rest on a small child, her hair was as white as snow, and it fell down her back in flowing waves. She was being comforted by a short plump woman who was in the process of handing the small girl a handkerchief from her robe pocket. Hermione watched as the small girl made grabbing motions in the king's direction and for a brief second, she saw a slight smile flit across Lucius' face. He motioned for the little girl to come to him, her mouth opened in astonishment when he scooped the child up and kissed her forehead as she cried…she quickly came to the conclusion that this was the king's daughter…Princess Bellatrix.

Sir Thomas Riddle held Narcissa close to his chest as he watched the king comfort his crying daughter from the viewing balcony. His face broke out into a sneer at the sight and vowed he would never have children if that was what they did to you.

Narcissa whimpered as she watched the princess cry, all this was her doing. She had caused all of this hurt and pain, but a nagging voice told her it was necessary to accomplish the plan, that nagging voice had a name - Sir Thomas Riddle. She tried to turn her head away from watching the heartbreaking scene but was held firmly in place by Thomas.

"Watch," he hissed, "Watch what we caused, what I did for you."

Her eyes stayed locked as a she watched the archbishop of Canterbury conduct the service, she listened as he spoke of the kind, loyal and loving queen of England, who had a great affection for others. How she was selfless in every way and how she enjoyed meeting the ordinary folk outside the walls of the palace.

Narcissa gasped out loud as she felt Thomas' hand creep up her thigh as he pulled up the skirts of her dress, exposing her to him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Taking what I want." he replied as he eased her undergarments down, until they fell at her feet.

He began to caress her moistening slit and groaned into her ear as his fingers slipped into her. Narcissa whimpered as he rubbed his fingers along the length of her pussy, spreading her wetness to his desired location. She began to rub herself into his rapidly growing erection causing his fingers to move closer to her clit, and she let out a load groan, much to Thomas delight, they could not be seen from their position on the balcony and he was glad of it at this very moment.

He freed his cock and rubbed it wantonly against her folds, and Narcissa tried as hard as she could for some kind of friction, and began to pant as he slipped his hot throbbing length inside of her.

He turned her so that she was facing the wall, and began to pound into her causing her head to bang harshly against the stone wall, causing her to shriek, the unknown sound bounced off the walls of the abbey and sounded like a hysterical mourner, maddened by grief.

What he failed to notice was the light stains of blood that had begun to form on the stone, and that Narcissa's shrieks had become whimpers. He shot his load deep within her not noticing that she hadn't reached her own completion. When she dropped to the floor as he let her go he laughed cruelly and told her to get up or he was going to drag her to her feet.

Dread filled his stomach as he noticed the bright red stains on the light grey rock and dropped to his feet, along the top of Narcissa's hair line was a deep gash that was oozing Narcissa's life force rapidly. Thomas muttered a quick healing spell and sealed the wound.

He looked down upon the procession to see that the service was nearly over, with one last look, he apparated the wounded woman away…To a man he knew could fix her.

What he failed to see was that a lilac scarf had fallen from the balcony to the floor. Hermione instantly recognized it as her sisters and pocketed it, wondering where her errant sister had got off to.

Thomas paced anxiously as Severus worked on Narcissa's wound, was he that self involved that he didn't even notice his own woman not reach her completion? One thing was for certain, he had never ever sort to harm Narcissa, no matter how roughly he had took her. His mind sought a logical explanation, she always liked it rough! Had his overwhelming need for her, erased his sense of awareness?

Narcissa awoke in a dimly lit room; her temple throbbed harshly as sought out the source of the light in the corner of the room.

"Take this potion." spoke a voice, it was rich, low and flowed like velvet.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"You needn't know who I am, take the potion and ease the pain from the crack in your cranium." he said coldly as he moved in to her line of sight.

The man stood over Narcissa, and she couldn't help but stare, his hair was a black as night, his face sharp and angular. His nose stood proudly on his face, slightly hooked at the end and his eye shone with contempt. His black attire didn't help the feeling of foreboding that crept over her, spiked by this mans appearance.

"Take this and join us the moment the pain ceases." he said as he walked out of the room, never once looking back.

Narcissa uncorked the vial and sniffed it suspiciously, it smelled slightly of lemons, and was warm to the touch. She hoped that Tom hadn't left her with this man. God knows what he would do to her! She heard a sharp laugh and instantly relaxed and downed the potion in one.

An instant feeling of wellness washed over her and the pain in her temple was gone. She slipped off the bed and looked around the room, this was some sort of lab, and there were jars upon jars of ingredients lining the walls and a small selection of vials resting on the small worktop. Narcissa peered at them looking at the labels, she saw a Draft of Living Death, Dreamless sleep, and a potion called Forget Me Not: For Memory Loss.

Her mind went suddenly into overdrive, this opened up a world of possibilities for her! One easy slip over the king's drink could seal this entire deal for her, and get the kings attention away from her sister; she could be the crowned queen of England and gain control of the throne. Yes…that would be most satisfactory.

Narcissa quickly swapped the two vials and slipped the full one into the pocket of her cloak, and she stepped into the living room of the potions master's home. Tom rose quickly and walked straight toward her, concern evident on his usually cold, stoic features. His hand reached out and cupped her face tenderly and for a second she forgot to breathe.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

She nodded quickly and took the seat offered to her by Tom. She gratefully accepted the warm glass of mulled wine offered to her by Snape's wife.

"How is life at the court?" asked Snape.

"As well as could be after the Queen's tragic death, however we are needed more than ever by the King." said Tom.

"How is the King coping?" asked Severus' wife.

"Well, Lady Snape, the King feels the need to have his closest friends around him; he has shied away from public duties, preferring to spend his days in solitude. His official mourning period began just over a week ago." explained Tom.

"Please call me Rhonda." she smiled.

"Well, Rhonda," Tom said with a smile, "It is a good thing the King has his many distractions."

"And what would they be?" asked Snape.

"He has become firm friends with one of the Queens ladies in waiting, Narcissa's own sister." he said with a slight smirk as he gestured toward the afore mentioned lady.

"Has she consented to become his mistress?" asked Rhonda.

"She has not, but the King fancies himself to be in love with her." said Tom.

"He may well be." said Rhonda as she used her wand to stoke the fire.

Snape looked on at his wife and smiled, he fully understood what it felt like to love and to be loved in return, his wife had come from the court herself and they had married almost eight years ago, she had blessed him from the moment he had met her. Her bright blue eyes had mesmerized him and brought him back from the downward spiral he had been fast approaching. The king had seen the love between the pair and given consent for Rhonda to leave the court and become Lady Snape. In doing this, the king had Severus Snape's eternal loyalty.

It was almost three weeks that Lucius sat at the head of the table surrounded by his family. He looked to his left and saw his brother Alex who was seated with his wife Victoria, to his right was his cousin Draco and his wife Amelia, who was heavily with child. Draco had grown up inside the palace with Lucius and Alexander and the three of them had become extremely close, upon his fathers death Lucius had made Draco the duke of Suffolk and his wife, the duchess.

Lucius' eyes drifted down to the end of the table toward Hermione, who was sitting quietly, her face solemn. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, draw her into his arms and just hold her. His heart called to her, wanting to take her away from here and never return, but he couldn't. He had been born to rule the country, favored by his father for his calm, but forceful personality and for his tactful ways of diplomacy. His father had called him a born ruler and that was what he had become.

As the night winded down, Hermione politely excused herself and returned to her chambers. Narcissa had been unnoticeably absent during the funeral feast and Hermione was set for confrontation. What she found when entering her chambers shocked Hermione to her core.

Narcissa was sprawled out upon her bed heaving her guts up over the side, and shaking violently. Hermione ran to her sister and tried to calm her shaking body, while Narcissa sobbed.

"What's the matter?" asked Hermione.

"Feel ill." breathed Narcissa, who felt clammy to the touch.

"You could have some sort of bug." said Hermione as Narcissa's grip increased in her hand.

"Maybe." breathed Narcissa as she pulled the covers over herself and settled into the bed.

Hermione waited until Narcissa was asleep to cast a cleaning charm. Her lessons where coming along great and she had the most fabulous teacher! Professor Dumbledore was incredibly powerful and seemed to know all there was to know about magic. He had shown her things that she could have never thought possible! She loved magic, and now that Sirius was being trained with her made it all more worth while.

Narcissa on the other hand, had been left in the dark. Hermione had agreed with Sirius that it would do Narcissa no good to know about the magical gene that resided within them.

Hermione had little or almost no contact with the king since the queen's death, she told herself that he was mourning for his wife, and it was to be expected that he would need some sort of privacy.

Narcissa had so cruelly put it to Hermione that it was her fault that the queen had took her own life, but Hermione knew better. It was widely known that the queen liked Hermione more than Narcissa and was worried about Narcissa's blatant flirting with the king. Hermione put it down to outright jealousy, something she was sure Narcissa would eventually grow out of.

Something had changed within the king; Hermione could feel it every time he set eyes upon her, without a queen there was no need for ladies in waiting, so why on earth were they being kept at the palace? Was in anticipation of a new queen? Hermione hoped with all her heart that it was not. She couldn't help how she felt about the king and she hoped that he still felt that sentiment. Had all the times he told her that he was in love with her been for nothing? Was the king contemplating marrying once more? She had heard the rumors about a French bride, had she been cast aside by a man who had sworn that he had loved her?