Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Pride of Portree

CHASER 3: Pansy (as inspired by Pansy Parkinson): Write about a character loving another character despite being mistreated or ignored by them.

Optional prompts:

8.(word) difference
11.(poem) 'Flower of Love' by Oscar Wilde
14.(song) Raining Diamonds - Ricki Lee

Words: 2996

Betaed by Oni,Jessica and Morna. Thank you very much!

"I'm scared

I had fallen into so deep

I've heard it, I've heard it

The beating of your heart

I'd rather not be alone

It's not fair to blame you

My sweet

I blame you not for mine the fault is

The stars can read the legend of my passion and yet

I cannot let you in to the bitter cave that is my heart.

For the crimson flower of my life is eaten by the cankerworm of truth,

And no hand can gather up the fallen withered petals of the rose of youth.

So please

The blame is mine."

"It's not fair to put the blame on you

It's not fair to just blame you

My fault it is too.

For too long I played the pretender

But now I'll never surrender

I'll never give up on you

I'm not scared

I've fallen madly, deeply

In love with you

And I know that love is more than just surviving

I need it, I need you

I have made my choice, have lived my life and, though you say youth is gone

in wasted days,

There's no difference to me

'Cause

I've found that our love's flower has yet to wither"

"Where's the child?" a cold voice asked.

Hermione shivered. She had to run; she needed help. She couldn't let the people who had killed her parents get her too! She had to survive for them! She waited until she was certain she was alone and crawled out of her hiding place, carefully surveying her surroundings before she ran.

There were shouts of 'that's her' and 'get her' but she didn't turn back to see if they pursued her.

Hermione ran and ran until her legs gave out. She crashed to the ground in front of the biggest house near the docks. A glance behind; there was no one following. Perhaps she was free. Perhaps they had tired of searching for her. But even if that was so, the seven year old's life had changed forever. She was alone now; she had to learn to survive on her own.

Then, suddenly, she heard them. They hadn't tired after all. In fact, they were right behind her. Hermione's heart beat wildly in her chest. All was lost, they were going to find her. She would be sent to the afterlife with her parents. She was never going to find out the identity of the man with the mask- her parents' murderer. The name of de Flora was going to die with her.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her and pulled her inside the enormous house she had collapsed in front of. Another hand, presumably belonging to the same body, covered her mouth before she could scream. The owner had been in the yard after returning from a nighttime walk when he had heard the girl's sobbing.

Hermione watched in mute terror as the group of pursuing men passed the house and disappeared in the night. She tried to pull away from the stranger's clutches, but the man held her tight.

"Oh no, you're going nowhere. You owe me your life. You would have died had it not been for me. And I need someone to sell my flowers."

And so, Hermione Rosa de Flora, the only child of Richard and Jean Azalea de Flora, disappeared, adding yet another layer to the mystery that surrounded the death of her parents.

10 years later...

Hermione looked around hopefully. She still had one more flower to sell. She had explicit orders not to return to her master until they were all sold. She was afraid to cross him, he often beat her for disobeying his orders.

She desperately wished someone would come along and buy it. The docks were dangerous at night, and brave as she was, Hermione didn't like the darkness. It reminded her too much of the night her parents had died.

Hermione looked at the final rose she still had to sell and sighed. The place was deserted. What would she do now?

Suddenly, a carriage drew up and a man stepped out of it followed by a lady. He looked dark and mysterious. Despite his dark suit, she instinctively knew him to be a good man. The woman, however, looked dangerous with an evil air around her.

"What are you doing here, girl?" the man asked.

Hermione looked down. "I sell flowers here at the docks for my master. I haven't been able to sell them all, though. I still have this rose." She pointed to the flower sitting innocently in the vase at her feet. "I cannot go home until it is sold."

"I'll buy it," he said bending to pick it at the same time she did; their hands touching each other in the process.

Hermione felt something change in her and she found herself blushing.

"Thank you," she stuttered, giving him an awkward smile.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

She pointed to the big house, its flowering gardens visible despite the distance. "There."

He motioned for her to follow him into the carriage and Hermione clambered in as gracefully as she could manage. It didn't seem to matter that the woman was scolding him, obviously annoyed at Hermione's presence, nor that he hadn't even spared her a glance. It was as though she'd been charmed by some strange sort of magic.

When the carriage pulled up outside Hermione's home she was surprised to see the strange man disembark with her. She had expected to be dropped off, then promptly forgotten, his good deed for the day done, but instead he walked alongside her and knocked on the door. Her master answered and she suddenly felt deeply afraid. He was a dangerous man, and she rightly feared him more than anyone. After ten years in his service, she often wondered if it would have been better for her to have been killed by the masked man and his followers.

"Is this your servant?" the man asked her master and she could see him glaring at her, accusing her of having done something wrong. In his eyes, she had already; she'd accepted a ride home with a stranger.

Her Master nodded.

"I have heard that you occasionally lend out your servants, is that right?"

"Yes." Her master looked slightly uncomfortable. He didn't just lend his servants out to others, he sold them to the highest bidder. Hermione sensed he would sell her too, if the price was right. He had declined offers for her in the past; he needed someone to sell his flowers and to beat for his own enjoyment. Hermione had a feeling that this time the offer would be one that he couldn't refuse.

"You want her, milord?" he asked.

Her saviour, because that was what she called him in her head now, nodded. "I've been seeking a maidservant for quite some time, she would be perfect. How much would it cost me to acquire her?"

"I'll give her to you for five hundred pounds, milord. She is a fine one with many years of service left in her," her master answered.

The man in black proffered a roll of notes.

"Take this and the girl leaves now," he said. Her now former Master nodded.

"You heard the gentleman, Hermione! Go with him!" He counted the money once more and closed the door in their faces.

Hermione turned around to face her new master and mistress. She gulped and took a step back when she noticed the scowl on her mistress' face.

"Come. From now on you'll serve me," the cold woman said.

And she did. But the duties she was given at Snape Manor, were nothing compared to the work she had done before. Even though Hermione had never been in love before, she still remembered the stories her mother had told her when she was little. She considered Lord Snape her saviour and knew, without a doubt, that she was in love with him.

Lord Snape, however, didn't love her back. Ever since the day he had saved her, he had never once talked with her or even glanced in her direction. He completely ignored her.

She wished Lady, Bellatrix, would do the same. She questioned everything Hermione did, especially her habit of setting fresh flowers in the vase on the mantle every morning. Each day, Hermione brought roses to the house for her master, but he never seemed to notice.

She didn't mind. He probably didn't realise how much it had meant for her to be saved, how much she had fallen for him. It was such an insignificant thing for someone as rich and powerful as he was. Mistress Bellatrix did notice, however, and she always teased Hermione about it in a most mean-spirited manner.

As time went on, Hermione discovered that Lady Bella was merely a friend of the Snape family and a visitor at Snape Manor. It was only due to Lord Snape's kind nature that she was not cast out. She most certainly was not the lady of the household, though she clearly aspired to be.

Hermione had come to know Lord Snape well in the year she had lived with him, and it only reinforced her belief that he was a good man. He had that dark aura, yes, but he was merely a very strict person with strict rules. He had no patience for misbehavior.

She was certain he didn't know how horribly Bellatrix treated her or of the awful behaviour of his friends when they visited. They couldn't torture her too badly, though, because he would notice. Still, she was willing to accept it. It was better than the abuse she'd suffered at the hands of her previous master.

He still ignored her and her flowers . He passed by them daily, but never once did he stop to look at them or ask about them. In her heart she hoped he did notice and simply said nothing, but her mind told her not to get her hopes up.

Everything changed one evening with the appearance of yet another of his friends. Lucius Malfoy looked dangerous and powerful when he entered that night, but Hermione could tell that he was really not as powerful as he wanted to appear. He depended on Severus, her master.

He spared her but a single glance before entering Severus' office.

"I see you've acquired a lovely maid, my friend." Lucius entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"Indeed. I needed a new one," Severus did not even look up from his book.

Hermione had to strain to hear Lucius' response.

"Indeed. But why her? Severus, I've seen the way she looks at you. She's practically oozing with lovesickness. Are you sure that you didn't choose her for other reasons?"

Hermione had to control her gasp. Her master barely looked at her and yet his friend thought...

"I am. I do not have a habit of sleeping with my staff, as you so rudely implied," Lord Snape replied. "She's just a servant. And she most certainly is not in love with me or I with her." With that, the discussion was closed.

Lucius gave Lord Snape a calculating look before he changed the subject. It was obvious that he did not believe his friend. He had slept with all his maids, after all.

After he exited her master's office, Lucius found Hermione in the sitting room arranging flowers.

"Severus may not see it, but I do. You melt into a puddle every time he enters the room. I wonder, what might be the cause?" There was malice evident in his voice as he looked down his nose at her. "What could possibly make you love an ugly, aloof man like him? Hmm? His money, I think. Or maybe his power?"

He stepped closer, a sneer on his face and Hermione shuddered involuntarily.

"It is so very sad for you that your advances are unwelcome. After all, he has a strict policy of keeping the highest level of propriety between masters and servants." Lucius bent down and whispered in her ear, "I don't have such a problem, as you can see."

She tore away from him, her eyes wide. 'That voice,' she thought, 'That gait and that figure… he was the man with the mask! The one who killed my family!'

"Is anything the matter?" asked Severus, appearing in the doorway.

"Not at all," said Lucius, taking a step back and bowing politely. "I was just leaving. But, just so you know, Severus, you must truly be blind if you don't see it." He looked pointedly at the flowers and then back at Hermione before departing.

"I see no difference," Severus murmured, looking around the room. He then turned to look at Hermione. "Did he bother you? I apologize. My friend can be rather bold with the servants."

Hermione flushed. "No, nothing happened."

She excused herself and went straight to her room to contemplate what she'd learned about the man in the mask… no… Lucius Malfoy.

"I see that Lucius had his eye on you, if you try anything funny with him, you'll have me to answer to!" Lady Bella said to her two days later.

Hermione shook her head. "You can have him. I do not care."

Her answer didn't seem to satisfy Bella and, over the next couple of weeks, she became increasingly vicious. Whilst Lucius grew bolder in his untoward advances. Hermione began to suspect them of working together.

As the weeks went on, Hermione became certain that they had something planned. At first, she wondered if Lucius recognized her, but if that were true surely he would already have silenced her.

Hermione came to the conclusion that Lucius was fixated on her because she was the only maid who spurned him, it sent shivers of revulsion down her spine. She feared, if he couldn't have her willingly, he'd force her instead. She began to dread Malfoy's ever-increasing visits.

Still, though he gave her no indication that he cared for her, Severus, (though she called him that only in her head), made sure to be there each time Lucius visited.

One day, however Mr Malfoy caught her alone. Hermione was miserable. It was all her fault. The night before, Severus had finally asked her about the flowers. Lady Bellatrix had pointed them out to him- he still hadn't noticed them on his own.

"They're for you," she'd answered from the heart. "All for you. As am I."

At hearing her admission, he'd gone mad. He'd shouted at her about the audacity of her words and the sheer impropriety of her actions, before dashing the vase against the wall and storming out of the house.

And now… now he wasn't here to protect her. Bellatrix leered from the doorway as Lucius descended upon Hermione, grinning evilly.

"Well, well, well if it's not Miss de Flora, the untouchable maid! How the mighty have fallen. It would be quite a letdown to your parents, don't you think? It must be a relief that they're dead."

At her terrified look, he smiled coldly. "Did you think I wouldn't recognise you? Girl, you're identical to your mother!"

He had her cornered, his fingers twisting tightly around her arms. At that moment, a furious Severus entered the room.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, tossing Lucius aside. "Leave, now!"

Lucius fled.

"What happened?" Severus stared at her with worried eyes.

Hermione broke down and told him everything, from her parents death to her learning who Lucius was. Then she recounted what had happened before his arrival. Finally she sobbed an apology as she confessed the depth of her feelings for him.

"No, it's not fair for you to take the blame. I should have been here tonight. I'm sorry. I never thought anyone would come to care for me as you do. I don't trust easily but I think in time I may come to trust you. I promise, I will do everything in my power to make him pay for your parents' death and for everything that he has done to you."

"Almost done," she whispered, but he didn't hear her. He was looking at the flowers in the vase. "Why do you bring fresh flowers into the house each day?" he asked her.

"Because they are a symbol of my love for you. That's how I met you. With a flower. "

He smiled.

"Yes, I remember. Who would have thought that little servant girl I met back then was the lost girl of the de Flora family? In truth, you are richer than me!"

Hermione blushed. "I don't think I am any longer. I am sure my riches are lost."

Severus shook his head. "You are. The king has refused to let anyone touch your money and properties unless it was proven that you were dead. He had never lost hope that you would be found."

"Well, he's going to get quite a shock when he sees that I'm back!" she exclaimed. When she tried to take his hand, however, he recoiled as though he'd been burnt and stood to leave.

After that, he hadn't looked at her or smiled, but she knew he cared. He had saved her from Lucius and he had promised to make him pay for her parents' death. He could ignore her all he wanted, he could shout and scream and threaten her all day for tiny offenses, but he wouldn't succeed in pushing her away. She loved him, and she knew deep down he loved her too. In time, perhaps she would succeed in melting the walls he had built around himself and make him trust her. She would make him see she wasn't going to leave if it was the last thing she did.

With these thoughts in her head, she put a single red rose in the vase.

To think everything had started and ended with a flower.