Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to it, even if
one day I may perform a mission impossible style type of thing and try to
grab the copyright details from deep within the Warner Bros. Office...
Hmmmm....
Hey y'all! I have had some time on my hands so I'm gonna get cracking and write more of the story. I am officially scared of reviewers though. You guys are all so nice! I'll try to update more, because you're all so special!!!
I'll now do personal thanks, if your name isn't on here, I wrote it before you reviewed and didn't get chance to put your name in, so I'll give you an extra special thanks next time!!
Dark Veritas: Okay, I'll update!
TIA: I'm sorry!! You're all gonna hate me if I do that again!! You might blow a gasket? What about me????
OverXposed: Poor you. You're at school and I have 2 weeks off. HAHA!! No really, DON'T DYE ON ME!!! I HAVEN'T GOT THE MONEY! I don't really know what it revealed... I'll just make it up... Please don't get your knickers in a twist either, I've heard it can make people walk in rather peculiar ways...
Siriusly Mione ( ): The wine was most definitely Draco and Hermione. The stalker? I'm not telling ya!
Benji girl: Thank you! I might turn this into a sort of HG/DM love fic, as I greatly favour them. I'm not sure whether it would ruin the mood though. Thank you!
Kay Spring: Thank you! I'll try and update asap, by the looks of it if I don't someone's gonna be walking very strangely and someone's gonna blow a gasket! Lol... Thank you!
ArgentumRosa: Ah, my special friend! Thanks for updating your story, it was a great chapter. I think I was being mean too, oh well. Chummy. I love that word! YAY!!! I'm glad you thought it was a nice touch, I just needed to get Hermione near Draco without making anything obvious (as I'm a massive DMHG shipper) but I'm not sure whether there will be any major romance in this fic, I'm kinda rubbish at writing that stuff. You got a taste of your own medicine, muwahaha!!!
Cliché' Brat: You got em right. I'll put em up next time. They weren't that hard really. She's not with Blaise, just rather eating lunch with him, Draco and Pansy. I think everyone thinks I'm evil now... oh well....
Hope2: Thank you. To me you sound like a professional writer and to me that was probably the nicest thing anyone's said about my writing. I'll try to keep it up!
Miss Wright: I'm nasty now.... YAY! I'm a completely evil bitch! Oh... wait... that's a bad thing... Never mind! I thought it was quite good how they did that too. I'm wondering whether Hermione should change her appearance a little so they don't recognise her, but hopefully some dull school robes will make all the difference! I can't wait for that bit either though! I'm not really a new character person, so it is one of J.K's characters. I'm gonna try and make them act 'normal' (or as normal as possible when you're trying to kill someone!) so that Hermione won't catch on. My advice is, just look for the little things that people do. More of them will happen when she gets back to school though, but I will try a few for now!
That was a hell of a lot of reviews! Thank you to all you guys and if anyone has any idea who it could be, don't hesitate to tell me!
Chapter 3: What's in the loo? (AN: Lovely title, eh?)
Hermione screamed and jumped back as if electric had shocked her, and she looked as if it had. In the cubicle, was a terrible, terrible sight. It made her very bones quiver and her lip began to tremble ferociously as her teeth began to chatter and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Blood. Everywhere. Cascading like a waterfall from one person in the centre of the cubicle. It was everywhere. On the walls made by calloused fingers, on the floor made by leather shoes of the expensive variety. It was everywhere.
The blood didn't bother Hermione, her parents were Dentist's and there was blood involved on the days when she was small and had to sit in when her babysitter was ill. It was the body.
It wasn't anyone she knew, just merely a young man wearing a crisp red tux and a bow tie, his eyes rolled back in his skull. He had a wound to the heart, a magnificent gash that went the length of his upper body, sliding across in a diagonal manner. It seemed to have been made by a knife, one very sharp indeed that was a clean cut. His hair, which she was sure would have been gelled back into some fashionable do, was messed up and the cuts to his shirt sleeves showed signs that he had tried to resist, his attempts futile.
Red tux... Brown hair...Crisp white shirt... THE WAITER! Hermione thought, the alarm bells ringing in her head. That's why dinner was so late...
They hadn't come here for the waiter though; it was her that the stalker was after. No ordinary stalker. He or she, whatever their gender, was now a murderer and would be on the run from the Ministry when they got wind of this incident.
Hermione was horrified though. In front of her was a dead man. He no longer breathed, his eyes were unfocused, his once peachy skin was cold and devoid of any colour. He was just dead... And she was the only one who knew. And, as realisation hit her, he was innocent. He had died because of her. It was her fault, she had associated with him and he suffered the consequences.
Would this happen to everyone she knew? What about Harry and Ron? But she hadn't seen them all summer, just the letters every three days that notified them she was fine and that no, she could not let them borrow her potions essay.
Then there were the three Slytherins outside, sat at the glass table sipping Brandy, Bloody Mary and White wine drinks. They had not a care in the world, and if she stayed with them they'd have no world to be careless in. She had to get out of the restaurant, out of this whole place, without suspicion. The Ministry would arrive when someone reported the dead body, and that person would not be her.
Saying a prayer for the young man, Hermione ducked out of the cubicle, almost at the point she was sick. The smell was awful, a horrendous stench that made her want to retch her insides out and never stop. Taking a deep breath, she slipped out of the door and looked for the table at which moments ago she was sat, no cares in the world.
"Hi everyone," Hermione paused for a moment and glanced at her watch, all of this was revised, "Oh my! Would you look at the time! I really must dash, it was nice meeting you all! Ta ta!"
Thanking her lucky stars that she had pulled it off so well, she pulled on her coat and bolted down the marble stairs that lead up to the top level, leaving the Slytherins behind her, trying to distance herself and them, for their sake. She knew it was rather abrupt, and rude, but it couldn't be helped. She did not want to be around later.
She could hear, as they were the only ones on that level, a slight commotion and footsteps behind her, quickening pace. They were heavy footfalls, and the sound of expensive shoes hitting the marble flooring was following her. She knew at once who it was, Blaise's designer trainers would be silent and Pansy's atrocious heels would clip-clop all the way down, and why would she bother?
Draco Malfoy could be the one following her, expensive leather shoes would make that exact noise. But why was he following her? Speeding up, Hermione managed to get to the entrance of the restaurant, and run out into the brilliant sunshine and light that was welcoming compared to the artificial lighting inside Gallitinos.
Turning around, Hermione was soon lost in the vast crowd that pushed many ways, like the torrent of the sea, a vicious storm that brewed in murky waters. She turned, her pleated skirt twirling as she did so, her red tank top sticking out through the crowd like a sore thumb. Draco was there, outside the resturaunt, with something in his hands. She then realised, as she saw the black material, that it was her bag, all her stuff was in there, including her ID card that was in her purse.
Pushing through, she managed to stand in front of Draco, though he did not notice her. He was too busy looking over her to see if he could find her, as he wasn't yet aware that she was right in front.
"Draco?" She whispered, tapping him lightly on the shoulder to get his attention.
"You left your bag," he answered curtly, pushing it into her hands roughly.
"You didn't have to bring it to me. I could always have got another, or maybe Gallitinos would return it, my ID's inside. You best get back, Pansy and Blaise will be waiting," she uttered, her voice soft in a manner one would talk to an injured child.
"Yeah, well. You might not have been able to get into your hotel for all I know."
"I never thought. Thanks. It was sure nice for you to rush down here and return it to me!"
Hermione whispered the last sentence and stood on her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek. The gesture meant nothing to her, it was something she did to Harry or Ron when they were nice or on her birthday. But Draco had never been kissed as a thanks before, and just stood, rooted to the spot, and stunned as she twisted on her heal and walked away, the only mark she left was the red lipstick stain on his smooth skin.
* * *
Hermione walked into the L'hôtel Des Etoiles lobby, looking around the posh marble interior. The Hotel Of The Stars was undoubtedly the best hotel around Diagon Alley. It had high ceilings in the lobby and the ceiling was enchanted to look like it was midnight, bright stars twinkling merrily above Hermione's head, looking down on her almost. She felt at peace, they were like watch guards making sure no harm came to her, warding off all evil.
Walking towards the reception desk, a great curved counter with black marble tops and clever machines that held money and things alike computers that checked the rooms for guests and finances. It was rather large as well, coming up to Hermione's chest as she reached the front of the long queue.
"Hello. Welcome to L'hôtel Des Etoiles. How may I help you?"
The woman spoke as if she were a muggle robot, her words obviously practiced to the point of perfection, right down to the very last syllable. She was rather imposing, supposedly in her late thirties, yet very beautiful. Long, chestnut hair tied in a tight ponytail at the top of her head, extending to her lower back. Golden glasses were perched atop her nose, her on a quill, wavering above a fresh piece of parchment.
"Hi, I booked a room under the name of Hermione Granger, would it be possible to go in it now?"
The lady pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up a little, then pushed what looked like an intercom. It buzzed and crackled until the lady spoke into it.
"Hey, it's Sarah from reception. Can I see if a Miss Hermione Granger has a booking?"
The intercom fizzled out for a moment as the woman took her hand off the button, the buzz and crackle of the obviously aged object fading away as she moved her hand and looked at Hermione.
"Can I see some ID please, and your booking information?"
Hermione opened her bag, the zip making a slight noise as it was drew back in the swift movement. Rummaging around for a while, feeling her mobile phone that was currently not working due to magical interference, she grasped the ID card and papers in her hand. Pulling them out and smoothing the ruffled sheets of paper, she handed them over to Sarah and waited.
Suddenly, the intercom made a buzzing sound and fizzled on again, the hum and crackle returning to the room even though it was barely audible with the surrounding noise. Sarah pressed the button at the bottom, but did not speak, instead someone spoke on the other end, a masculine voice that confirmed Miss Hermione Granger was indeed staying the night in the posh hotel.
"Okay... Well it seems that we have none of the business class rooms left so we'll have to give you an upgrade to a better class, free of charge. Your room is on the top floor, number 1A. Have a good stay and we hope you return. Breakfast is served between 7am and 11am, so please take advantage of the morning buffet. Comment cards are available here in the lobby, on a stand near the elevator. Have a good stay!"
Sarah seemed out of breath at the end, the last part of the speech well rehearsed as her tone grew by a few octaves from lack of air. Hermione quickly thanked her, then walked over to the elevator, which was situated on the eastern wall. It was much different to the one she had rode in during her fifth year, and when it came down she couldn't hear the rattle or scrape of the steel gate, just a plain metal elevator not much different from a muggle one.
Stepping in and calling out the top floor, the doors shut and the elevator slowly ascended to the destination. After around two minutes, she was there. The doors opened soundlessly, and Hermione stepped out, pushing her bag further up her shoulder.
Looking around the corridor, a narrow red-carpeted place with cream walls covered in strange symbols in gold paint, Hermione spotted her room. It was the first one, out of only four to cover the whole of the level.
Oh how I love room upgrades, Hermione thought, stepping forward and pushing the golden key into the lock of the white door and twisting it right to open the door. It clicked and the door opened with a 'snap' and Hermione walked inside.
The room was decorated like one for a princess. A luxurious four-poster bed stood in the middle, the dark cherry wood shining after a new polish. It's covers were gold and cream, the same symbols stitched in that she had seen in the corridor and she guessed that they must be the hotel's emblem. In one corner there was a mini-bar, with the same marble like the reception counter on the ground floor, full with butterbeer and other wizarding drinks that included some little glasses that looked like shots and changed colour every so often.
Walking over to the bathroom, Hermione saw that there was a bath, shower cubicle, toilet, sink and bathroom counter all done in white marble.
Sighing, she walked to the cherry wood closet and began to unpack her things.
* * *
It was nearing 8 O'clock when Hermione emerged from her room. In the ballroom there was going to be a party, and all the guests had been invited. Hermione expected it to be some pureblood bash, probably with some snooty women poking their noses in everyone's business. Hermione had decided to go anyway, as she had heard that parties thrown at the Hotel Of The Stars were simply the best. Plus, she had also heard that the music would be heard all the way to the top floor where she was so it was just best to go to them.
Hermione was dressed in an elegant black dress that swirled on the floor when she walked. It sparkled and shimmered, with no sleeves and a v- neckline that dipped quite low. Over all, she looked beautiful, her hair up in a bun with strands framing her face that curled upwards.
Pushing the button for the elevator, she walked in but was soon joined by more guests in the small elevator, all dressed to go to the no doubt expensive party. It was quite cramped, but Hermione was sure she saw Pansy Parkinson step in wearing a sickly pink dress and those god forbidden nails that she'd seen in the shop earlier. Pansy, as she was now sure it was her, was stood right next to her, yet she didn't recognise her as Marin, or Hermione. She just looked down at her with disgust and- could it be- jealousy? Whatever for?
When they reached the ground floor, Hermione saw Pansy shoot her a look and walk over to the ballroom entrance where the sound of music could be heard, the patter of dancing feet and the chatter of people all ages. It seemed to be a very sophisticated party, and Hermione felt almost underdressed when she passed a rather large woman in a silk dress and furs that were no doubt real.
Taking a deep breath and stepping in, Hermione was soon lost in a sea of colour. It seemed that the theme was muggle attire as all of the women were dressed in well, dresses and the men were in tuxedos. It was colourful in there and Hermione saw Cornelius Fudge sweep past her with a lady in his arms, tipping his ever-present bowler hat in her direction.
Walking over to the drinks stand, Hermione poured herself a glass of reddish coloured punch, barely having time to drink it down before she was approached by a young man her age.
"Excuse me Miss, but would you do me the honour of dancing with me?" He spoke with an accent, and then Hermione recognised him, having not seen him before in a tux.
"Seamus! It's me, Hermione! What are you doing here?"
He seemed to blush red and gave her a hurried excuse that he was staying the night and then going for his supplies tomorrow morning to avoid the usual crowds, before sweeping her off to the dance-floor. Now Seamus wasn't the best dancer in the world, but compared to Ron and Krum, he was a professional. He was a little out of time on some of the beats, but Hermione couldn't care less. After the dance, she bid farewell to Seamus as he ventured off into the crowd in search of his mother.
She stopped for a second and looked around. People were chatting about petty matters and there was a particularly rowdy group of young men in the corner, but Hermione payed no heed to their drinks and squabbles, and accidentally smacked straight into somebody behind her.
She twirled round, having managed to keep her balance, and came face- to- face with the young man she had had lunch with earlier that day. Not Blaise Zabini, the other one. The one with amazing platinum hair and freakishly pale skin and mysterious eyes that a person could just drown in, that didn't make him any less annoying though.
"Oi! Watch out! Expensive threads over here. Hmm.... You look familiar. Have I met you?" He spoke with an air of authority yet with the naivety of a young man who had just been bumped into, and quite honestly he had.
Hermione thought for a second. Marin or herself, Hermione? She couldn't keep this Marin charade up forever, so maybe it was just best to be herself as her mother had always taught her.
"Malfoy, what a surprise. Don't recognise me? The mudblood?" Hermione sneered, looking up at him. He was around four inches taller than her, but it seemed a lot to her. He scanned her for a minute and smirked before speaking.
" Well, well, well. What is a mudblood doing at a party like this? Scrubbed up well haven't we. What have we been doing this summer? Where are your sidekicks? Potter ditched you for that inbred Weasley? Poor, poor mudblood."
Hermione stood there. He smirked all the while he talked, looking at her with his upper lip curling and his eyes glinting dangerously as he talked of her blood.
"Shut up ferret. You don't know anything. You, on the other hand don't scrub up well. You don't even scrub up. Why are you calling me a mudblood? The only one I see with dirty blood here is you!" She said to him, seething. They had somehow moved to a corner now, near a tapestry covered wall. Hearing what she said, her words cutting like a chainsaw, he pushed her against the wall. She squealed an wriggled about a little before he put his face inches from hers and looked straight into her wide brown eyes, talking very slowly in a dangerous tone.
"Now listen here Granger. You have no right to say that. My family is, and always has been better than yours not just because we are rich, dignified and downright gorgeous, but because we are pureblooded and you are a mudblood born to muggle parents, got it? In simple words that you may or may not understand, I am better than you and your mudblood friends and your muggle world. You shouldn't be here, Granger. And soon, very soon, you and your kind wont. I look forward to it. I really do."
He spoke in a dangerous tone that scared Hermione. She would never admit it, but he really scared her sometimes. His words were his vision, and many others of the future. Where purebloods were the only ones that survived and the muggles and their offspring, whether they had magical blood or not, would perish with the simple swish of a wand. In the least it was frightening, to Hermione at least. He spoke those words with vigour and power and he seemed to speak with a voice that meant the dark side had already won, though it had not. Hermione was sure they had not already won, but his knowledge of wizarding matters far exceeded hers, so she just tried to put on a brave face and retaliated.
"Well, well, well. Did I hit a nerve there Malfoy? I'm ever so sorry... Whatever are you going to do about it?" She spat venomously, sarcasm lacing her words like strings through a guitar. To illustrate her point even further, she stuck one hand on her hip and placed a finger to the side of her mouth in a mocking pose.
"Want me to show you what I'm gonna do, Granger? Pleasure."
Suddenly, Hermione felt herself falling, right backwards where the wall should have been, and grasped onto nothingness. She squeezed her eyes tight, and then looked. She emitted a small gasp of surprise...
End of chapter three
AN: I'm sorry guys, but I just had to end it there! Honestly, I didn't want to but I really couldn't think of anything to put. I was really stuck for ideas and it just came. This chapter was meant to be complete last weekend, but it due to evil English teachers and gross amounts of homework, its up today! Oh joy... Not. Also, I'm really fed up with my spell checker coming up with Hermione's name and suggesting hormone instead. Hello? Lemme just write a new story in the Microsoft spell check way:
Hormone was walking home and hormone blah-dy-blady-blah...
As you may notice, I refuse to call one of my favourite characters 'Hormone'
Any guesses who the murderer/stalker is? All suggestions and reasons welcome. As to whether its Draco, I'm not saying much. It could be possible to fall in love with your stalker, but as I'm rubbish at romance I don't really know.
Till next time my friends! ~*Cereza*~
Hey y'all! I have had some time on my hands so I'm gonna get cracking and write more of the story. I am officially scared of reviewers though. You guys are all so nice! I'll try to update more, because you're all so special!!!
I'll now do personal thanks, if your name isn't on here, I wrote it before you reviewed and didn't get chance to put your name in, so I'll give you an extra special thanks next time!!
Dark Veritas: Okay, I'll update!
TIA: I'm sorry!! You're all gonna hate me if I do that again!! You might blow a gasket? What about me????
OverXposed: Poor you. You're at school and I have 2 weeks off. HAHA!! No really, DON'T DYE ON ME!!! I HAVEN'T GOT THE MONEY! I don't really know what it revealed... I'll just make it up... Please don't get your knickers in a twist either, I've heard it can make people walk in rather peculiar ways...
Siriusly Mione ( ): The wine was most definitely Draco and Hermione. The stalker? I'm not telling ya!
Benji girl: Thank you! I might turn this into a sort of HG/DM love fic, as I greatly favour them. I'm not sure whether it would ruin the mood though. Thank you!
Kay Spring: Thank you! I'll try and update asap, by the looks of it if I don't someone's gonna be walking very strangely and someone's gonna blow a gasket! Lol... Thank you!
ArgentumRosa: Ah, my special friend! Thanks for updating your story, it was a great chapter. I think I was being mean too, oh well. Chummy. I love that word! YAY!!! I'm glad you thought it was a nice touch, I just needed to get Hermione near Draco without making anything obvious (as I'm a massive DMHG shipper) but I'm not sure whether there will be any major romance in this fic, I'm kinda rubbish at writing that stuff. You got a taste of your own medicine, muwahaha!!!
Cliché' Brat: You got em right. I'll put em up next time. They weren't that hard really. She's not with Blaise, just rather eating lunch with him, Draco and Pansy. I think everyone thinks I'm evil now... oh well....
Hope2: Thank you. To me you sound like a professional writer and to me that was probably the nicest thing anyone's said about my writing. I'll try to keep it up!
Miss Wright: I'm nasty now.... YAY! I'm a completely evil bitch! Oh... wait... that's a bad thing... Never mind! I thought it was quite good how they did that too. I'm wondering whether Hermione should change her appearance a little so they don't recognise her, but hopefully some dull school robes will make all the difference! I can't wait for that bit either though! I'm not really a new character person, so it is one of J.K's characters. I'm gonna try and make them act 'normal' (or as normal as possible when you're trying to kill someone!) so that Hermione won't catch on. My advice is, just look for the little things that people do. More of them will happen when she gets back to school though, but I will try a few for now!
That was a hell of a lot of reviews! Thank you to all you guys and if anyone has any idea who it could be, don't hesitate to tell me!
Chapter 3: What's in the loo? (AN: Lovely title, eh?)
Hermione screamed and jumped back as if electric had shocked her, and she looked as if it had. In the cubicle, was a terrible, terrible sight. It made her very bones quiver and her lip began to tremble ferociously as her teeth began to chatter and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Blood. Everywhere. Cascading like a waterfall from one person in the centre of the cubicle. It was everywhere. On the walls made by calloused fingers, on the floor made by leather shoes of the expensive variety. It was everywhere.
The blood didn't bother Hermione, her parents were Dentist's and there was blood involved on the days when she was small and had to sit in when her babysitter was ill. It was the body.
It wasn't anyone she knew, just merely a young man wearing a crisp red tux and a bow tie, his eyes rolled back in his skull. He had a wound to the heart, a magnificent gash that went the length of his upper body, sliding across in a diagonal manner. It seemed to have been made by a knife, one very sharp indeed that was a clean cut. His hair, which she was sure would have been gelled back into some fashionable do, was messed up and the cuts to his shirt sleeves showed signs that he had tried to resist, his attempts futile.
Red tux... Brown hair...Crisp white shirt... THE WAITER! Hermione thought, the alarm bells ringing in her head. That's why dinner was so late...
They hadn't come here for the waiter though; it was her that the stalker was after. No ordinary stalker. He or she, whatever their gender, was now a murderer and would be on the run from the Ministry when they got wind of this incident.
Hermione was horrified though. In front of her was a dead man. He no longer breathed, his eyes were unfocused, his once peachy skin was cold and devoid of any colour. He was just dead... And she was the only one who knew. And, as realisation hit her, he was innocent. He had died because of her. It was her fault, she had associated with him and he suffered the consequences.
Would this happen to everyone she knew? What about Harry and Ron? But she hadn't seen them all summer, just the letters every three days that notified them she was fine and that no, she could not let them borrow her potions essay.
Then there were the three Slytherins outside, sat at the glass table sipping Brandy, Bloody Mary and White wine drinks. They had not a care in the world, and if she stayed with them they'd have no world to be careless in. She had to get out of the restaurant, out of this whole place, without suspicion. The Ministry would arrive when someone reported the dead body, and that person would not be her.
Saying a prayer for the young man, Hermione ducked out of the cubicle, almost at the point she was sick. The smell was awful, a horrendous stench that made her want to retch her insides out and never stop. Taking a deep breath, she slipped out of the door and looked for the table at which moments ago she was sat, no cares in the world.
"Hi everyone," Hermione paused for a moment and glanced at her watch, all of this was revised, "Oh my! Would you look at the time! I really must dash, it was nice meeting you all! Ta ta!"
Thanking her lucky stars that she had pulled it off so well, she pulled on her coat and bolted down the marble stairs that lead up to the top level, leaving the Slytherins behind her, trying to distance herself and them, for their sake. She knew it was rather abrupt, and rude, but it couldn't be helped. She did not want to be around later.
She could hear, as they were the only ones on that level, a slight commotion and footsteps behind her, quickening pace. They were heavy footfalls, and the sound of expensive shoes hitting the marble flooring was following her. She knew at once who it was, Blaise's designer trainers would be silent and Pansy's atrocious heels would clip-clop all the way down, and why would she bother?
Draco Malfoy could be the one following her, expensive leather shoes would make that exact noise. But why was he following her? Speeding up, Hermione managed to get to the entrance of the restaurant, and run out into the brilliant sunshine and light that was welcoming compared to the artificial lighting inside Gallitinos.
Turning around, Hermione was soon lost in the vast crowd that pushed many ways, like the torrent of the sea, a vicious storm that brewed in murky waters. She turned, her pleated skirt twirling as she did so, her red tank top sticking out through the crowd like a sore thumb. Draco was there, outside the resturaunt, with something in his hands. She then realised, as she saw the black material, that it was her bag, all her stuff was in there, including her ID card that was in her purse.
Pushing through, she managed to stand in front of Draco, though he did not notice her. He was too busy looking over her to see if he could find her, as he wasn't yet aware that she was right in front.
"Draco?" She whispered, tapping him lightly on the shoulder to get his attention.
"You left your bag," he answered curtly, pushing it into her hands roughly.
"You didn't have to bring it to me. I could always have got another, or maybe Gallitinos would return it, my ID's inside. You best get back, Pansy and Blaise will be waiting," she uttered, her voice soft in a manner one would talk to an injured child.
"Yeah, well. You might not have been able to get into your hotel for all I know."
"I never thought. Thanks. It was sure nice for you to rush down here and return it to me!"
Hermione whispered the last sentence and stood on her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek. The gesture meant nothing to her, it was something she did to Harry or Ron when they were nice or on her birthday. But Draco had never been kissed as a thanks before, and just stood, rooted to the spot, and stunned as she twisted on her heal and walked away, the only mark she left was the red lipstick stain on his smooth skin.
* * *
Hermione walked into the L'hôtel Des Etoiles lobby, looking around the posh marble interior. The Hotel Of The Stars was undoubtedly the best hotel around Diagon Alley. It had high ceilings in the lobby and the ceiling was enchanted to look like it was midnight, bright stars twinkling merrily above Hermione's head, looking down on her almost. She felt at peace, they were like watch guards making sure no harm came to her, warding off all evil.
Walking towards the reception desk, a great curved counter with black marble tops and clever machines that held money and things alike computers that checked the rooms for guests and finances. It was rather large as well, coming up to Hermione's chest as she reached the front of the long queue.
"Hello. Welcome to L'hôtel Des Etoiles. How may I help you?"
The woman spoke as if she were a muggle robot, her words obviously practiced to the point of perfection, right down to the very last syllable. She was rather imposing, supposedly in her late thirties, yet very beautiful. Long, chestnut hair tied in a tight ponytail at the top of her head, extending to her lower back. Golden glasses were perched atop her nose, her on a quill, wavering above a fresh piece of parchment.
"Hi, I booked a room under the name of Hermione Granger, would it be possible to go in it now?"
The lady pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up a little, then pushed what looked like an intercom. It buzzed and crackled until the lady spoke into it.
"Hey, it's Sarah from reception. Can I see if a Miss Hermione Granger has a booking?"
The intercom fizzled out for a moment as the woman took her hand off the button, the buzz and crackle of the obviously aged object fading away as she moved her hand and looked at Hermione.
"Can I see some ID please, and your booking information?"
Hermione opened her bag, the zip making a slight noise as it was drew back in the swift movement. Rummaging around for a while, feeling her mobile phone that was currently not working due to magical interference, she grasped the ID card and papers in her hand. Pulling them out and smoothing the ruffled sheets of paper, she handed them over to Sarah and waited.
Suddenly, the intercom made a buzzing sound and fizzled on again, the hum and crackle returning to the room even though it was barely audible with the surrounding noise. Sarah pressed the button at the bottom, but did not speak, instead someone spoke on the other end, a masculine voice that confirmed Miss Hermione Granger was indeed staying the night in the posh hotel.
"Okay... Well it seems that we have none of the business class rooms left so we'll have to give you an upgrade to a better class, free of charge. Your room is on the top floor, number 1A. Have a good stay and we hope you return. Breakfast is served between 7am and 11am, so please take advantage of the morning buffet. Comment cards are available here in the lobby, on a stand near the elevator. Have a good stay!"
Sarah seemed out of breath at the end, the last part of the speech well rehearsed as her tone grew by a few octaves from lack of air. Hermione quickly thanked her, then walked over to the elevator, which was situated on the eastern wall. It was much different to the one she had rode in during her fifth year, and when it came down she couldn't hear the rattle or scrape of the steel gate, just a plain metal elevator not much different from a muggle one.
Stepping in and calling out the top floor, the doors shut and the elevator slowly ascended to the destination. After around two minutes, she was there. The doors opened soundlessly, and Hermione stepped out, pushing her bag further up her shoulder.
Looking around the corridor, a narrow red-carpeted place with cream walls covered in strange symbols in gold paint, Hermione spotted her room. It was the first one, out of only four to cover the whole of the level.
Oh how I love room upgrades, Hermione thought, stepping forward and pushing the golden key into the lock of the white door and twisting it right to open the door. It clicked and the door opened with a 'snap' and Hermione walked inside.
The room was decorated like one for a princess. A luxurious four-poster bed stood in the middle, the dark cherry wood shining after a new polish. It's covers were gold and cream, the same symbols stitched in that she had seen in the corridor and she guessed that they must be the hotel's emblem. In one corner there was a mini-bar, with the same marble like the reception counter on the ground floor, full with butterbeer and other wizarding drinks that included some little glasses that looked like shots and changed colour every so often.
Walking over to the bathroom, Hermione saw that there was a bath, shower cubicle, toilet, sink and bathroom counter all done in white marble.
Sighing, she walked to the cherry wood closet and began to unpack her things.
* * *
It was nearing 8 O'clock when Hermione emerged from her room. In the ballroom there was going to be a party, and all the guests had been invited. Hermione expected it to be some pureblood bash, probably with some snooty women poking their noses in everyone's business. Hermione had decided to go anyway, as she had heard that parties thrown at the Hotel Of The Stars were simply the best. Plus, she had also heard that the music would be heard all the way to the top floor where she was so it was just best to go to them.
Hermione was dressed in an elegant black dress that swirled on the floor when she walked. It sparkled and shimmered, with no sleeves and a v- neckline that dipped quite low. Over all, she looked beautiful, her hair up in a bun with strands framing her face that curled upwards.
Pushing the button for the elevator, she walked in but was soon joined by more guests in the small elevator, all dressed to go to the no doubt expensive party. It was quite cramped, but Hermione was sure she saw Pansy Parkinson step in wearing a sickly pink dress and those god forbidden nails that she'd seen in the shop earlier. Pansy, as she was now sure it was her, was stood right next to her, yet she didn't recognise her as Marin, or Hermione. She just looked down at her with disgust and- could it be- jealousy? Whatever for?
When they reached the ground floor, Hermione saw Pansy shoot her a look and walk over to the ballroom entrance where the sound of music could be heard, the patter of dancing feet and the chatter of people all ages. It seemed to be a very sophisticated party, and Hermione felt almost underdressed when she passed a rather large woman in a silk dress and furs that were no doubt real.
Taking a deep breath and stepping in, Hermione was soon lost in a sea of colour. It seemed that the theme was muggle attire as all of the women were dressed in well, dresses and the men were in tuxedos. It was colourful in there and Hermione saw Cornelius Fudge sweep past her with a lady in his arms, tipping his ever-present bowler hat in her direction.
Walking over to the drinks stand, Hermione poured herself a glass of reddish coloured punch, barely having time to drink it down before she was approached by a young man her age.
"Excuse me Miss, but would you do me the honour of dancing with me?" He spoke with an accent, and then Hermione recognised him, having not seen him before in a tux.
"Seamus! It's me, Hermione! What are you doing here?"
He seemed to blush red and gave her a hurried excuse that he was staying the night and then going for his supplies tomorrow morning to avoid the usual crowds, before sweeping her off to the dance-floor. Now Seamus wasn't the best dancer in the world, but compared to Ron and Krum, he was a professional. He was a little out of time on some of the beats, but Hermione couldn't care less. After the dance, she bid farewell to Seamus as he ventured off into the crowd in search of his mother.
She stopped for a second and looked around. People were chatting about petty matters and there was a particularly rowdy group of young men in the corner, but Hermione payed no heed to their drinks and squabbles, and accidentally smacked straight into somebody behind her.
She twirled round, having managed to keep her balance, and came face- to- face with the young man she had had lunch with earlier that day. Not Blaise Zabini, the other one. The one with amazing platinum hair and freakishly pale skin and mysterious eyes that a person could just drown in, that didn't make him any less annoying though.
"Oi! Watch out! Expensive threads over here. Hmm.... You look familiar. Have I met you?" He spoke with an air of authority yet with the naivety of a young man who had just been bumped into, and quite honestly he had.
Hermione thought for a second. Marin or herself, Hermione? She couldn't keep this Marin charade up forever, so maybe it was just best to be herself as her mother had always taught her.
"Malfoy, what a surprise. Don't recognise me? The mudblood?" Hermione sneered, looking up at him. He was around four inches taller than her, but it seemed a lot to her. He scanned her for a minute and smirked before speaking.
" Well, well, well. What is a mudblood doing at a party like this? Scrubbed up well haven't we. What have we been doing this summer? Where are your sidekicks? Potter ditched you for that inbred Weasley? Poor, poor mudblood."
Hermione stood there. He smirked all the while he talked, looking at her with his upper lip curling and his eyes glinting dangerously as he talked of her blood.
"Shut up ferret. You don't know anything. You, on the other hand don't scrub up well. You don't even scrub up. Why are you calling me a mudblood? The only one I see with dirty blood here is you!" She said to him, seething. They had somehow moved to a corner now, near a tapestry covered wall. Hearing what she said, her words cutting like a chainsaw, he pushed her against the wall. She squealed an wriggled about a little before he put his face inches from hers and looked straight into her wide brown eyes, talking very slowly in a dangerous tone.
"Now listen here Granger. You have no right to say that. My family is, and always has been better than yours not just because we are rich, dignified and downright gorgeous, but because we are pureblooded and you are a mudblood born to muggle parents, got it? In simple words that you may or may not understand, I am better than you and your mudblood friends and your muggle world. You shouldn't be here, Granger. And soon, very soon, you and your kind wont. I look forward to it. I really do."
He spoke in a dangerous tone that scared Hermione. She would never admit it, but he really scared her sometimes. His words were his vision, and many others of the future. Where purebloods were the only ones that survived and the muggles and their offspring, whether they had magical blood or not, would perish with the simple swish of a wand. In the least it was frightening, to Hermione at least. He spoke those words with vigour and power and he seemed to speak with a voice that meant the dark side had already won, though it had not. Hermione was sure they had not already won, but his knowledge of wizarding matters far exceeded hers, so she just tried to put on a brave face and retaliated.
"Well, well, well. Did I hit a nerve there Malfoy? I'm ever so sorry... Whatever are you going to do about it?" She spat venomously, sarcasm lacing her words like strings through a guitar. To illustrate her point even further, she stuck one hand on her hip and placed a finger to the side of her mouth in a mocking pose.
"Want me to show you what I'm gonna do, Granger? Pleasure."
Suddenly, Hermione felt herself falling, right backwards where the wall should have been, and grasped onto nothingness. She squeezed her eyes tight, and then looked. She emitted a small gasp of surprise...
End of chapter three
AN: I'm sorry guys, but I just had to end it there! Honestly, I didn't want to but I really couldn't think of anything to put. I was really stuck for ideas and it just came. This chapter was meant to be complete last weekend, but it due to evil English teachers and gross amounts of homework, its up today! Oh joy... Not. Also, I'm really fed up with my spell checker coming up with Hermione's name and suggesting hormone instead. Hello? Lemme just write a new story in the Microsoft spell check way:
Hormone was walking home and hormone blah-dy-blady-blah...
As you may notice, I refuse to call one of my favourite characters 'Hormone'
Any guesses who the murderer/stalker is? All suggestions and reasons welcome. As to whether its Draco, I'm not saying much. It could be possible to fall in love with your stalker, but as I'm rubbish at romance I don't really know.
Till next time my friends! ~*Cereza*~