*Author's Note: Does anyone actually read these? If you're reading this as opposed to just skipping through this then add the secret word *monkey* to your review. I want to start out by apologizing for abandoning all of my other projects, and I probably won't go back to them. Now back to this fanfic: I am looking for a kickass partner in crime (beta) so if you're willing PM me. Now, let us begin and I'll see you on the other side (:*
Chapter One: Red Lace
"Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting."
~J.M. Barrie
HPOV
There is a time between consciousness and slumber, a time where for a few moments you are anyone and yet no one. You have no voice, but soft voices still whisper past your ear. Where there is no love there is no hate and you just exist. It may be the ideal way to live, cocooned in a type of world where this is no definition. The problem is that there is a time when everyone needs to wake up.
"Miss Granger! Got yer linens pressed for ye." My fragile delusion was shattered as the heavy oak door was pushed into the wall, followed by the round face of Hannah Abbott.
"Hannah I feel ill," I groaned, lifting my head off of my pillow to acknowledge her, "Could you inform my father that I can't attend the dinner tonight."
"Miss Granger," As corpulent as Hannah was, she had managed to cross the room and place her hand firmly on my forehead within seconds, "Ye ain't running no fever. This 'bout the tournament today? Ye sure can't miss all thee Lords and Lassies."
"Don't remind me Hannah," I scolded, slipping out of my sheets and tugging on a robe while Hannah struggled to remake my bed. Hannah Abbott had come to me when she was twelve. Her English was poor and her housekeeping skills were dismal at best, but she was a fantastic cook and had a kind disposition.
"Lord Longbottom 's going," She smiled, twirling a stray piece of baby blonde hair away from her face, "There's a fine gent if I e'er saw one."
"The red gown today Hannah, with the gold stitching. Neville is practically family and last I heard he was courting Lady Lovegood from Ravenclaw."
"Ditzy that one, ain't she?" She called from the depths of my wardrobe. I stifled a laugh at Hannah calling anyone ludicrous.
For the first time in generations, the House of Granger was hosting the Mid Summer's Tournament and a Gryffindor win would mean a week's worth of celebration and merriment. There would also be an engagement and one that I was trying particularly hard to ignore. The prior spring had been welcomed with blossoming buds and a promise from my father, Lord Granger, that the man who proved his worth with his lance would be an appropriate suitor for me.
The following months rushed by all too swiftly, my childhood home fading into the background of an uncertain and strikingly sinister future. Yes, I had been well educated and had a clever head upon my shoulders, but besides that I was the plain looking daughter of a Lord. I'm too skinny for the gentle curves of a woman and too tall to be considered petite, with thick mousy brown curls and too big for my face eyes. A part of me is terrified that marriage for me would consist of counting the gaps in my groom's teeth and the moles on his back.
"Hermione?" My mother's presence filled my doorway, a worried frown struggling to remain hidden on her face.
"I'm fine," the lie was clear and hung awkwardly in the air as Hannah popped out behind a mass of lace and fabric.
"Yer dress ma'lady," Hannah curtsied stiffly at me, and then my mother. She had always been uncomfortable around the Lord and Lady. She helped me into my underthings, her fingers fumbling with the buttons as she bit back the curse words I could see forming around her lips, clearly visible in the three-way mirror.
"I've got it Hannah," my mother stepped smoothly between us and smiled at the trembling young girl,
"You can go to the kitchens." With that, she scampered off, holding her bonnet tightly to her head in fear of it flying off in haste.
"We really should replace her," Lady Granger sighed as she fitted the corset around me. I knew she was just speaking aloud and was too kind to do so. The red gown came next, and with it the hundreds of intricate knots and ties. With Hannah it would have taken most of the morning, but my mother was nothing it not efficient. A few brushstrokes and a handful of pins later and my hair had been tamed into a bun at the nape of my neck.
"You look beautiful," she whispered, standing next to me across the glass. I knew that she could see it to, the striking resemblance between us. Though her hair had lightened with age and her curls had always behaved, we stood shoulder to shoulder with the same thin face and delicate finger bones.
"I'm doing the right thing," I replied, hoping that the words would come out sounding lighter and a bit more honest. My mom smiled weakly, brushed her hand across my face, and left the same way she had entered. With us there would be no good-byes or an "I'm going to miss you". It didn't need to be said because we both already knew.
A make shift grass field had been set up and the rickety stands were packed shoulder to shoulder. I sat at the head of the field, between Mother and Father. Hannah's blonde hair cropped up somewhere in the middle, occasionally waving frantically in my direction with one of her signature face splitting smiles. Butterflies did a little jig in my stomach and my fingers itched to tear apart the lace at my sleeves.
"Lords and Ladies from afar," a Gryffindor knight named Sir Finnigan had stepped into the center of the arena, "May I present to you the Gryffindor champions!" Whoops and hollers shook the air while pounding feet shook the stands. The men filed in, dressed in full armor save for their helmets which were neatly tucked under their arms.
"Ravenclaw!"
"Hufflepuff!"
"And Slytherin!" The following was met with boos and hisses from our side of the field. Hannah got too excited and nearly toppled out of her seat. The Slytherin men stood at the end each in black armor and scaly green chain mail. It was the usual crowd: Sir Carrow, Sir Dolohov, Lord Avery, Sir Crabbe, Sir Goyle, Lord Nott, and King Malfoy. They were all greasy, vile, narcissists and as was custom the greasiest most vile narcissist typically one. Their hungry eyes scanned the crowd for a young defile that they can defile.
The first joust was announced as Sir Thomas of Gryffindor versus Lord Avery of Slytherin and I realized that I was holding my breath. The battle for my hand had begun. Two steeds found their way to opposite sides of the pitch. Sir Thomas rode upon a roan beauty and Avery on an ashy mustang, each with their lance in hand.
At the age of 3 I fell into the lake near our manor. My nurse was nowhere to be found and if it had not been for a wandering stable boy, I surely would have drowned. At that moment I had no control over my life, not even the ability to scream. Gryffindors fell to Slytherin swords before my eyes and a chance at a content marriage was stripped away. The victor stepped forward off of his charger, approaching our side of the field. Time froze as he lifted away his helmet to reveal shoulder length blonde hair and an evil smirk. King Lucius Malfoy.
"I claim her," he laughed, "I claim the Gryffindor Princess." Princess? It had been a nickname I had grown up with, but I didn't actually carry the title.
"Don't be ridiculous Malfoy," my father tried to laugh it off, "You're married to Queen Narcissa."
"You offered her up Granger," King Malfoy scoffed, "and I want her."
Bile rose in my throat and the world tilted on its hinges. The blood rushing through my ears seemed to be screaming one word, "Run."
*YAY FOR CLIFFIES! Cookies inspire men and so do reviews. Now some of you are probably checking to make sure this is a Draco/Hermione and not a Lucius/Hermione (gross). And you're right this will be a Dramione and Draco should enter within the next couple of chapters. Patience young padowan. Now for some clarification, because Hermione told me she didn't have time to explain the political system. So here it goes.
There are 4 basic countries. Each one is around the size of Spain. They are all fictional.
Gryffindor
King: Harry James Potter
Queen: none
Prince: none
Princes: none
House of Weasley:
(Lord or Lady) Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny
House of Longbottom:
(Lord or Lady) Neville
House of Granger:
(Lord or Lady) Lord Granger, Lady Granger, Hermione
Knights: Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Creavey brothers, etc.
Hufflepuff
King: Ted Tonks
Queen: Andromeda
Prince: none
Princess: Nymphadora
Ravenclaw:
King: Xenophilius Lovegood
Queen: None
Prince: None
Princess: Luna
Slytherin:
King: Lucius Malfoy
Queen: Narcissa Malfoy
Prince: Draco Malfoy
Princess: None
*These are not all of the characters and my political system doesn't really follow any others. If someone is addressed as Sir they are a knight, Lord or Lady if they are such. Your Majesty/Highness if royalty. They all convene twice a year at the Hogwarts council. Remember the secret word and go review xoxoxox inkpaperlove*