Title: The Prince and the Pauper
Author: louisaeve
Rating: T
Summary: Hermione is nothing but the local dressmakers daughter, but when the Queen regent sweeps into her mother store, she finds herself suddenly and abruptly engaged to the heir to Avalie, the heir prince, Draco Malfoy.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini, Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley, Narcissa Malfoy
Day 51 - The Dressmaker and Her Apprentice
Hermione shifted uncomfortably as her mother pinched and prodded at the dress that sat around her waist. "Quit fidgeting!" Her mother scolded, and poked her in the stomach to stop her movement.
Immediately Hermione stilled - her mothers fingers held needles that were pointed and sharp and, from experience, she knew hurt and were more than able to draw blood.
The dress she was wearing was for one of the upper sides girls, a Miss Brown if she recalled correctly. The girl had visited with her friend and her mother and had exclaimed loudly that she adored the dresses Mrs Granger made, and as such simply must have one for the new dancing and courting season. 'Luckily' Hermione and Miss Brown were the same size, and now she was standing in the back room of her mothers shop, with a purple dress on with frills and ribbons and bows and lace, which was all too decadent and extravagant for her mother, but Miss Brown had insisted.
Sighing, Hermione turned her eyes skyward, and looked at the low wooden roof, that her father had fixed himself, just last autumn.
Unfortunately, just as Mrs Granger was pinning up the hem of the dress, the doorbell rang, alerting the pair that they had a costumer. Quickly Mrs Granger stood up, pulling herself off her knees, and hurried through the doorway to the front room, where Mrs Grangers bright and vibrant creations sat in display. Hermione soon followed her, picking the skirts of the ordered dress up and moving into the main room, as her mother moved to the doorway to greet the woman who stood there.
To her greet surprise, standing in the doorway was none other than Narcissa Malfoy, the Regent Queen of Avalie.
Immediately, Hermione sunk into a curtsey, joining her mother in the motion, before the Queen shook her head and motioned for them to rise, with a flick of her hand.
"Mrs Granger," she said slowly, delicately, ensuring that she was carefully picking her words. "I was unaware you had an appointment. If you wish I can return at a later date. My business is not that important."
"No, no," Mrs Granger shook her head, her curly locks, much like Hermione's own straining against the ribbon they had been confined with. "This is just my daughter, Hermione. She was trying on a dress so that I could fit it."
"My lady," Hermione sunk into another curtsey, bowing her head, before she heard the Queen let out an exasperated sigh and a 'tsk' sound.
"Rise," she said, and Hermione lifted herself up, making sure to keep her head bowed as was the proper ettiquette. "Look at me girl," she said, lifting Hermione's chin with her hand, and continuing to survey her, taking in her figure, her feet, her facial features, her wrists and lower arms and hands. "Is she of marrying age?" She turned to Mrs Granger, who had large eyes, a habit Hermione herself often took on.
"Y-yes," Mrs Granger nodded, with a slight stammer. "Although we were planning on allowing her to choose her own husband, when she felt fit. She has enough talent to continue the family business on her own for a couple of years."
"She is pretty," the Queen smiled, tilting her head as she took in the way the dim light shone across her cheekbones in the twilighting afternoon. The dusk was shining a starling golden light across the three women, one who looked rather aged and two who looked to be at their prime of beauty, the light highlighting them, making their halos of hair glow. "Hermione yes?"
"Yes," Hermione nodded, although she fought to keep down her own questions ('townsfolk do not ask questions Hermione!' her mothers reminders throughout the years echoing across her mind), as the Queen dropped her hand. "My mother enjoyed reading."
"You can read?" The Queen let a rather happy smile flit across the face, as she turned to face Mrs Granger.
"My father taught me," Mrs Granger smoothed out the creases on her dress. "My husband and I taught Hermione."
"So you're educated," this time Hermione was quite sure that the Queen was pleased, as the smile held its position on her face. "Your family is respectable, there are no gambling or . . . prostitution problems are there?" She turned to Mrs Granger with a perfectly arched, pale blonde eyebrow.
"No!" Mrs Granger flushed red with shame at the suggestion. "We are a highly respectable sort."
"Of course, of course," the pale woman laughed lightly, as though the reaction had amused her, before she turned on her heel and paced around the room, looking at the fine silk dresses and minks placed carefully on models, with fresh flowers pinned to their collars and fake wigs, which Hermione had carefully arranged that morning.
"Your daughter, Hermione Granger, is a wholesome, young Avelién girl. She is educated, talented in the work of dressmaking, capable of respect and is quite beautiful," the Queen gave a smirk, pulling the left side of her mouth up, making the pair of townswomen feel quite bowed into terror at her power and beauty. "This is the exact type of girl that one would expect the sovereign of their country to marry, am I correct?" She turned to Mrs Granger.
"Except that Hermione is lower class!" Mrs Granger bursted out before she could help herself (showing where her daughter got her personality), as Hermione felt her eyes go wide as the reality of the situation dawned upon her.
"Nonsense!" The Queen picked up a piece of tule and fingered it between her long, manicured fingers, feeling the silken fabric that made up the frilling of the dress. "You are a decent middle class. Half of the castle of Hogwarts comes here for their gowns!"
"We have no title!" Hermione said before she could help herself, before looking at the floor, refusing to allow herself to blush. "I am sorry your Grace."
"Don't be," the Queen waved a hand, laughter tilting her tone. "I like a girl that can stand up for herself. You shall need that in the court."
"Excuse me?" Hermione's eyes went wide. "Court?"
"With your parents permission, I would like to arrange a betrothal, a marriage, between you and . . . my son," Queen Narcissa allowed her smirk to become a full fledged smile and raised her eyebrow once more. "That is if your parents accept of course."
"I will have to speak to my husband," Mrs Granger said firmly, and was met by a firm nod from the Queen, but none of the three were fooled.
How could mere townsfolk say no to the Queen? Hermione would be married to the Prince of Avalie, a one Draco Malfoy.
Wow! I haven't written Dramione since I was . . . eleven or twelve? Nonetheless it's been a couple of years. AU's are my fav, and lately I can't seem to find enough of the decent ones, so I have had to make my own I guess? So this is kinda going loosely around the 'Princess and Pauper' fairytale, and yet it's not? Anyway hopefully a happy ending, and hopefully you will all review?