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 49 - Flowers and Pearls for the Lady
When Hermione woke up she found herself in a bed that was not her own, wrapped in silk sheets laden with fur blankets that were not her own, as her head rested on a pillow that was silken and scented with cinnamon that was not her own. Instead when she woke, she found herself laying in a bed laden with pillows that felt luxurious, with Hannah looking through her wardrobe.
"Good morning," Hermione said in a slightly hoarse voice as she realised where she was.
"Good morning," Hannah smiled brightly. "Breakfast?" She gestured towards a silver tray, with plates of food resting on it.
"Please," Hermione smiled brightly, and pulled herself out of bed, becoming aware of the silken nightgown that had been provided for her by the Queen. She grabbed the tray, and seated herself at a seat which had been placed in the corner of her room, and balanced the tray on her lap.
"You should of stayed in bed!" Hannah lightly scolded. "I would of brought it to you!"
"It doesn't really matter does it?" Hermione smiled, teasing her. "Do you want some?"
Hannah looked at her seriously. "No! A future Queen does not share her breakfast with maids!"
"Very well," Hermione said stiffly, although she could feel the sides of her mouth twitching and knew that Hannah would be able to as well.
"Now today you are to join the Queen and her ladies in some embroidery and some readings in her chambers, before you dine with the Queen and some visiting ladies from Ollinda," Hannah instructed, and pulled a few dresses out of the wardrobe.
"Do you like the pale pink for today?" Hannah lifted up a dress printed with small pink flowers on a white, stiff fabric, with careful detailing in small white beads.
"Very pretty," Hermione smiled.
Hannah continued to dust down some of Hermione's books and the windowsills, as Hermione savoured the taste of the omelette she had been made, heavy with cheese and accompanied by tomato and a fresh squeezed oranges.
Once Hermione had finished her breakfast, Hannah rushed over to help her dress, helping her into a set of underclothes and then her pretty daydress, and then piled her hair up into the knits and braids which she had worn last night. "The Queen sent something over for you to wear today," Hannah smiled, and rushed over to Hermione's desk, where a wooden box sat. Hannah opened it and drew out a strand of pretty pearls and a matching bracelet, which she hung over Hermione's body in the appropriate places, as Hermione gasped in wonder.
"They are quite beautiful," she said, marveling at their smoothness and how they sat against her relatively tanned skin.
"The Queen has excellent taste," Hannah said dryly, and looked Hermione over once more, checking to make sure she looked presentable. "You still look too much like a towns girl for the Queens liking, and tomorrow she has ordered a group to come to clean and buff your nails, and dress your hair properly. These jewels she is hoping will cover your birthplace up. They shall be the first of many jewels, just you wait."
Hermione nodded, and knew that while the Queen appeared to be kind and giving, she was trying to regain some hope for her son, and using a pretty towns girl would do so well.
"You look fine," Hannah pulled at Hermione's skirt, attempting to get it to sit well, before brushing off her shoulders, freeing them of some imaginary dust. "Now are you ready to go?"
"Yes," Hermione nodded. "Is Lady McGonagall coming to escort me?"
"No, I have been saddled with that duty today," Hannah smiled, and unbarred the door, as Hermione followed Hannah out into the room (which Hermione had learnt yesterday was merely called the Common Room), and out of it, as a few of the guests of the room looked on in curiosity.
Hermione hurried after Hannah (goodness did everyone in this castle move quickly?), and followed her down a sunlight corridor, drenched by the windows golden rays, which looked out onto large and fancy gardens.
They made the way along the corridor, until they arrived at a set of doors which were elaborately carved and painted with golden lilies and bright purple orchids, and four guards outside. "Miss Granger to see Her Grace," Hannah spoke up for the pair, and the guards opened the doors for her, gaining her entrance to the rooms.
Hermione found her eyes widening at the display which was taking place in the Queens rooms, decorated in pale blues and bright silvers, with around twenty or so ladies sitting around on lounges and amusing themselves by embroidering or a few reading if they were so inclined, as the Queen sat at her desk writing. "I am glad you made in Miss Granger," she calls from her seat, blotting her paper.
"Thank you Your Grace," Hermione says, unsure how else she should reply.
Hannah leads her to a seat next to a red haired girl, as a couple of whispers enter the room and eyes catch over Hermione. The girl with red hair smiles at her, and Hermione finds her face is sprinkled with freckles, splattered all across her nose. "Ginny Potter," she smiles brightly and pats the seat next to her. "Hermione Granger right?"
"Yes," Hermione says, and any other time of her life she would of whirled into a conversation but she is awkward and shy now and she can feel eyes watching her, waiting for to show herself as a failure.
"I love your dress," Ginny says conversationally as she sews another stitch on her embroidery, and Hannah hands Hermione an embroidery kit, complete with an array of brightly coloured threads.
"Well it was a gift from Her Grace," Hermione shrugged, and selected a purple thread, a little unsure as to what was meant to do when they embroidered. Gazing around she realises that the majority of the women in the room were sewing flowers, some with pictures close to reference. Even Ginny was sewing one, although it looked more like a mess of orange and yellow stitches.
"It's very pretty," Ginny let out a huff and unpicked a row of orange stitches, as Hermione picked up her needle and started the shape of a purple petunia. "How long have you been in the castle?"
"Just today and yesterday," Hermione said as she quickly sewed the basic shape of the petunia. "Are you one of the ladies in waiting?"
"Nope," Ginny bit down on her lip in concentration and brought the stiff white fabric of her embroidery kit close to her eyes. "My husband was asked to come to talk to the Prince's grandfather for a bit, so Her Majesty invited me to stay for a while. She thought that maybe I would be able to connect with you. Or something like that."
"But how did she know that I would be here?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows furrowing. "We just met two days ago."
"The Queen has been planning this for a while," Ginny said lowly, and then threw her embroidery down in annoyance, leaving in full display a mix of yellow and orange stitches which really didn't look like nor create the form of a flower. "She always has a plan."
"I see," Hermione said, for there really wasn't anything else to say.
"Your sewing is incredible!" Ginny exclaimed loudly all of a sudden. "Luna, come look at this!"
A blonde girl floated over, and examined Hermione's work in a way that she didn't quite like. "It's very pretty. But not much imagination. Why not a green petunia?"
"A green petunia?" Hermione scoffed suddenly. "Whoever heard of such a thing?"
"Well that's the point isn't it?" The girl, Luna smiled, before walking over to her seat and planting herself down.
Nonetheless, Ginny's exclamation soon attracted other attention, for a dark girl (who was most certainly not from around these parts) walked over, and examined the work. "This is very pretty!" She smiled brilliantly, her white teeth flashing against her dark skin. "You simply must make me something sometime. Your stitches are so precise!"
"Thank you!" Hermione beamed in response, before the girl walked away to her friend - a Miss Brown, whom Hermione had met a while ago, under very different circumstances, as her mother had been making her a dress, which she now wore, covered in lace and bows and in a bright purple that made Hermione nearly wince at the colour.
"Well I bet she had to learn how to sew," Miss Brown was now saying to her friend in a fake whisper. "The commoners are so harsh on their daughters - and then they practically sell them into marriage, all for a loaf of bread!"
Hermione gritted her teeth, and instead turned to adding a white accent to her petunia. "Ignore them," Ginny advised, having picked up a book and attempted to translate it into Avelién from the language of Ollinda, and was now frowning at the mess of words in front of her. "Miss Brown is a notorious gossip and enjoys sparking fights in the court. And Parvati fears her position in court is too precarious to go against anyone, especially considering they live in very close quarters. Miss Brown is just jealous."
"Jealous?" Hermione's eyes went wide. "Of what?"
"Of you!" Ginny laughed and appeared to have abandoned her attempts of translation. "Why wouldn't she be? You are young and lively and beautiful and most importantly, you are marrying the Prince. Miss Brown had hoped to marry him, or at least someone with a title. She is only a miss, and her parents sent her here to find a husband with a title to wed, but so far she has yet to."
"That is very unfortunate," Hermione frowned.
"Yes, especially considering this is her third year here," Ginny leaned in to gossip. "She has had a couple of interested men - my brother even appeared to be for a while - but she hasn't managed to get a proposal out of any as of yet."
"Lunch!" The Queen called out as a group of maids walked in, carrying trays piled with food and drinks and thus interrupting the girls conversation.
_
Hermione spent the rest of the day with the ladies in the Queens chambers, after dining and after she had finished her fifth petunia, Queen Narcissa read them an entry in Ollindian, not a word of which Hermione understood, but still appeared to look as interested as possible, although she saw Miss Brown scrawling notes to her friend, whom Ginny had acknowledged as Parvati.
Then the Queen had dismissed them all from her chambers, and ordered the maids to clean up, as the young ladies picked up their embroidery and books, but Hermione was told to stay and wait for her to fix her hair.
The Queen walked out of her bathroom not much later, with her hair looking exactly the same as it had before, and looked her over. "I thought the pearls would look good on you. I was right," she smiled, pleased with herself and led the way down the corridor.
The Queen did not move as quickly as Lady McGonagall had, but she still kept up a brisk pace as she swept down the hall, and Hermione found herself slightly out of breath by the time she arrived at the room which they would be dining.
It was a quite spacious and lovely room, which during the day would of been lit by windows which were of half of the walls, as this was a room in one of the castles' towers, but now the windows had thick curtains in deep green drawn over them, and instead many candles had been lit to brighten the room.
The women they dined with were very snobby and spoke in thick accents which Hermione found hard to understand. They seemed to look down on her, whether because they knew she was a commoner, or they simply did not like her, Hermione did not know. Instead they and Narcissa conversed in Avelién and in their native tongue, about topics which held no interest to Hermione - about scandals with foreign princes and maids and dukes who had forgotten their positions and allowed themselves to share a bed with a young daughter of a visiting Lord. So Hermione found herself bored and picked and her delicious and fancy food, while looking at her bracelet and the small beads on her dress. Finally once the visiting ladies had announced themselves "absolutely exhausted - ve must retire!', Hermione was granted leave.
The Queen enquired if she would need an escort, but Hermione shook her head and exited the room, rather exhausted over her day in court. She could use a walk (at a decent pace) and if she got lost she could always ask one of the many guards of the castle to direct her.
So she walked out of the room, and headed down the passage where she had walked earlier with Narcissa.
Although it was spring, and the winter ought to have been chased away by now, she still extended her hand that night, held onto the world by her fingertips and blew her icy breath, causing the world to chill and Hermione's skin to be raised with goosebumps. With a slight shiver she continued down the hallway in the way she remembered, the moonlight joining with the candle light, lighting her way in a mosaic of silver and gold.
To her surprise as she passed Queen Narcissa's chambers, she heard uneven steps - not the steps of the guard, rather the steps that she knew well from Friday nights, the lopsided, teetering steps of a drunk.
As she quickly hurried, the drunk stopped in front of her. He was young. Not much older than herself, with pale blonde hair and eyes with deep shadows below them, and grey eyes that Hermione found her eyes catching over, for the silver of them were the only bit of colour, only piece of darkness on his otherwise fair face. Sighing as his eyes locked onto hers, she realised that she was caught and it would be improper not to talk to him.
"Sir, are you lost?" She asked. "Do you need me to call a guard to help direct you back to your rooms? This is the royal corridor, no place for those who are not invited."
"Well you are a pretty thing aren't you?" He leered at her, and Hermione felt her senses assaulted by the stench of cheap beer. "Haven't seen you around."
"I don't suppose you would of," she flinched back, and attempted to step away, only to find that the drunkard had captured her hand and placed a mocking kiss on it, soaking it in the scent of sweat and beer and all other sorts of pub smells. "Please, or I shall call the guards," she frowned, and pulled it back, flinching in disgust.
"Fair well then my lady," he made a bow in her direction as he released her hand, accompanying the gesture with a laugh, and Hermione picked up her skirts and hastened down the hall, as the drunkard stumbled down to a door, where the guards opened the heavy wood and allowed him into his chambers.
So where I am is absolutely freezing - I think my toes are close to falling off, and it's not even winter yet! But that's how it gets when you go south! SO what do you think? Like? Dislike? Hate? Thanks to everyone who reviewed/ faved/ followed. I love you. And thanks if you, you know talked. Maybe you'd like to check out my new fic 'Of Negros and White Boys' - you might like it, it's a 60s AU. Much love, Louisa xx
