A/N I got reviews! Happy Day! I'm so glad that you are enjoying the story. This site is so strange. Sometimes it feels like tossing words into the void. Thank you for chiming in. We are almost to their adulthood. A few more chapters, I promise. Thank you for reading. I don't own this world. -Lark
Objects of Beauty Chapter 13
Winter 1949
The circle had been cast. The sacred stones surrounding the place had been set down by Helga Hufflepuff herself. Under a grey January sky Hermione lifted her wand high and called to the greater powers. A golden beam shot from her wand straight into the sky. She was dressed in robes of white. The weak sun shone through the cloth displaying her unbound curves beneath. Hepzibah had chosen them. Even now her touch was evident in each moment of the ceremony. With eyes full of intense emotion and sorrow she leveled a look across the mourners. She was radiating with her power. It made her beauty which was coming into full bloom almost a tangible thing.
Viktor Krum saw it and he cast a surly glance about him. She was still so innocent in many ways. He had heard that Hepzibah had willed all the objects she had collected in her lifetime to the girl. The Smith family was livid yet it was perfectly legal. It made her a very rich young woman and with her beauty she was sure to be a target for those who wished to use her for either their desires or financial gain. It was not a safe place for a Muggleborn. He vowed to protect her and, if she let him, love her. Viktor had traveled the world for his quidditch career. He had known many witches. He was convinced that none of them were quite like her.
Draco Malfoy stood between his mother and father. They had definitely fallen from favor. His father was being passed over for the more lucrative political dealings. His mother and he had spent the remainder of the holidays recovering from the torture inflicted upon them. Now the impossible task given him weighed heavy upon his shoulders. He knew that his mother was unlikely to survive if he failed. He looked to the witch in the center of the circle. She was mesmerizing, even he could admit that. He glanced at his father guiltily and looked back again. It was because of filth like her that his family was in this mess. She began to sing the ancient chant of death and renewal. Her voice a strong clear bell in the crisp winter air. The power of her magic surrounded them all. His body thrummed to life. He hated her. He hated himself.
A little apart from the circle and three rows back from the front Tom Riddle watched the ritual unfold. A few gave him discreet nods but he went largely unnoticed. Few of his followers connected the good looking clerk from Borgin and Burke's to the snake faced, rising leader of the new wizarding world. He liked it that way. He thought of the elderly witch's fat, shocked face as she realized that she was dying. A smile lit his lips. Her death had given him two of the objects he had chased for years. It had also assisted him in placing another bit of his soul within the cup.
Lost in his thoughts as he was, he started when the young witch shot a beam of golden light into the air. He looked closer. She was very beautiful. Tom felt desire racing to his cock. It had been awhile since any witch had called lust up in him unbidden. She was just barely of age. Tom knew that she was only a muggleborn. He also realized that she was Hepzibah's heir. Her magic surrounded the crowd. He could feel that this was no ordinary young witch. Power and artistry were woven skillfully into her spell. It made sense, Hepzibah had been a weak minded witch but she had certainly had an eye for collecting treasures of rare worth to her.
Of course, this girl could only ever be an easy conquest for him. He would enjoy breaking her. A muggleborn was good for nothing else. He sneered as he thought of his own weak mother who had given up on life and on him for love of a muggle. If only she'd known what life had taught him. Magic was might and muggles and their spawn were there only to serve. He watched the young witch's breasts as they pushed against the thin cloth of her robes. Her small taut nipples just visible. He vowed he would know her intimately one day very soon.
Hermione lowered her wand. She sent a wish and a hope that Hepzibah's final journey would be a safe and a beautiful one. The witches and wizards assembled raised their arms up to the clouds. A fine mist kissed their faces and mingled with tears. Hundreds of people had come to send Hepzibah off. She had been well respected if not always well loved.
...
Hermione wandered from room to room in a daze. Many of the mourners had come back to the house. Exhausted as she was, she kept her composure. She accepted condolences, adeptly avoided being cornered by lascivious wizards who wondered if she would be lonely and managed not to fall apart.
Dumbledore had met with her earlier and had indeed insisted that she finish out her schooling at Hogwart's. She had agreed. Harry was all she had left now. The Smith family wanted her to vacate the premise within the week. Without Hepzibah's presence she was more than happy to oblige.
She felt a reassuring palm against her back. She looked up to find Viktor's kind eyes. "Herm-o-ninny." He said using his silly nickname for her. "You look exhausted. Come vith me. I've something to tell you." She nodded and he led her to the library.
He seated her on the wine velvet couch that she had spent many happy hours reading on. "I know you are young and haff many years to make up your mind." Viktor cleared his throat. "You are now a witch alone with the fortune that Hepzibah left you. It vill make you a target for many wizards. This I do not vant for you." He pulled a ring box from his jacket pocket.
Opening it he presented it to her. A large sapphire sat in a gold setting. "Do you know vat this is?" He asked her.
She stared at it curiously. "Is it a promise ring?"
"Yes, many old families haf these. If you take it you are saying that you are considering me. You are saying that you are taken, yet undecided. The ring in turn protects your body from any other's touch unless you and only you take it off." Viktor's eyes begged her for a response.
"You are asking me to marry you?" Hermione was confused.
"Not as such, though vun day I hope to ask ven you are ready. No, I vant to give this to you to give you breathing space. I vould not hold you to anything. You are young and grieving. I know there are those who vill try to take advantage. The ring vill also offer you extra protection. I vorry about you so much with the war." Viktor reached out and gently cupped his hand about her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into him.
"Let me think on it?" She asked and Viktor nodded. "Do you know what I want right now?"
"Vat? Anything you ask for I vill give if I can." Viktor smiled.
"Please Viktor, kiss me until I'm dizzy. Until I forget." She whispered. The ritual had made her anxious and left her in an aroused state. Viktor gave her a knowing look and nodded.
He slid down next to her and placed his lips upon hers. They had kissed a few times before but this was different. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She pressed against him sweetly. He pressed and she met him. His lips danced down her neck and she arched her back. She nipped his ear and he gasped.
Slowly his hand made it's way to her breasts. She moaned and he found them, still unbound under her robes. Slowly his hand made its way to her sex. She bucked against it. "Please." She said. "I want more."
Viktor paused in his exploration of her body. He looked at her solemnly. "I vill not make love to you today. Someday, I hope to very much. I vant your first time to be made of joy. What you vant now is only a result of the ritual you performed. A release." He leaned in and kissed her again. His hand slipped up under her robes and found the cleft of her wet and wanting. "I can give you this." He whispered. Skillfully his fingers began to stroke the most secret part of her. Her neck fell back against the arm of the sofa.
Viktor moved the soft neck of the robes so that her breast was bear to him. His mouth sucked sweetly at her hard nipple. Carefully, thinking her quite the most lovely witch he had ever seen he slid his finger into her and his thumb found the rhythm. She bit her bottom lip and then began to make a soft mewling. Knowing she was close he continued to pleasure her, enjoying the soft, tight feel of her around his finger. When she came at last, arching her back and crying his name he moaned with her.
They did not notice Draco Malfoy backing slowly from the room. He had come upon them quite by accident. For reasons unknown to him he had been strongly drawn away from the reception and into the recesses of the house.
He spied them immediately upon entering and should have turned and afforded them privacy. He knew a ritual like the one Smith had performed that morning would call for this kind of relief. Her head was thrown back in pleasure, her long hair spilling over the arm of the sofa. One pale breast was exposed to him, soft and round. The Bulgarian oaf had his hand up her robes and she moaned in response. When she came apart at last in his arms Draco turned away, inexplicable rage coursing through him.
Hermione tried to catch her breath as she looked up at the mural on the library's ceiling. "Thank you." She whispered. The pent up magic from Hepzibah's ritual was realigning in her body. She sighed into the feeling.
Viktor tender stroked her hair. "You are better?" She nodded. "I am glad my beautiful Hermione."
"Yes." She looked deeply into his eyes, unashamed of what she had done. She had been taught that the magic of the body and connection was as powerful as any other. She was glad her first experience had been with Viktor. She knew that he would never harm her. "I know that I'm in no state to make you any sort of promise but I will wear your ring." She whispered shyly.
Smiling Viktor picked up the box where he had discarded it. Slowly, he reached for her hand at brought the ring to the tip of her finger. And there it stayed. Confusion rippled Viktor's brow. He tried to force the ring on only to have them both gasp in pain.
"What's happening?" Hermione gasped.
Viktor looked deeply troubled. "Hermione, I know you think you are a muggleborn, yet it seems you haff a contract of betrothal cast on you."
"A what?" Hermione knew what these contracts were and she was horrified.
Viktor watched her face. "You truly did not know? Purebloods, they sometimes form these at birth or even before that between two infants. It seems that you are under such a thing." Hermione's brow crinkled in confusion. "No other vizard may haff claim to you until the contract is finalized or voided." Viktor told her.
"Who?" Hermione was appalled. Surely her father would not have promised her life to a wizard before she could even speak? She caught herself. Of course, he might, if there was anything she had learned about Pureblood custom it was that their rituals were positively primeval. She tapped a rhythm on Viktor's chest as she thought. "Right, I'll go speak to Griphook tomorrow." She muttered. She just knew the goblin would be able to tell her something.
She snuggled into Viktor's chest. He hugged her tightly and she tilted her head up to meet his sad eyes. "I would have worn your ring." She told him honestly.
"I know and it vould have made me the happiest vizard to know this. That you might someday choose me. But now, I think I must let you go." His face spoke to his sorrow and regret.
Tears slipped down her face. Too many things were changing and spinning out of control. She wondered what else she would lose before it was all done.
...
The goblin gave a dark chuckle when Hermione strode into his office the next day. "I knew I would be hearing from you today Hermione Granger."
She stiffened at the name she had kept hidden for the past six years. "Hello Griphook. Why did you think this?" She tilted her head curiously.
He picked up a rolled parchment and waved it at her. "A certain betrothal promise was glowing red this morning. You have a suitor do you? Young Viktor Krum I suppose. He will have to give up the pursuit if he knows what's good for him." The goblin made a so-so gesture with his bony hand. "He's of good family and fortune but you can do so much better."
Hermione made a humphing noise at him. "You knew? Why in all these years did you never tell me? Or at least you could have let Hepzibah know."
Griphook straightened. "It was not my place to do either. At this point I'm not even allowed to tell you to whom you are in this contract with. I can only tell you that it is a very old family. It was created before you were ever born to foster peace over a land disagreement. You only need know two things. The family in question presumes you dead. They will only find out when they try to create a contract for their heir. The second is that you are a halfblood, they will not want you to...sully the line." Griphook said grimly.
"Well, these are both good things, I've no intention of tying myself to a spoiled sop of a Pureblood." Hermione sniffed with dignity. "Can we contact them to break the contract?"
"I must advise you not to." Griphook placed the scroll carefully on the desk in front of him. "It's better that no one know your true name."
Remembering the prophecy, Hermione agreed. "But then, isn't it only a matter of time before they discover that I'm alive?"
"Time is needed right now Miss Granger." Griphook advised. "Enjoy the reprieve."
"Alright, you've never steered me wrong." Hermione got up to leave, she started, remembering something. She rooted around in her small bag that she had placed under an extension charm. "I almost forgot." She placed several books on a free corner of the cluttered desk. "Here are some books I found that may aid you in your fight for goblin rights. I've marked the pertinent pages for you."
They had formed a friendship of sorts over the years. Griphook had once told her how goblin's were treated as subpar creatures yet were expected to handle the wizarding economy with unfailing loyalty. Griphook stared at the pages a long moment. "I thank you." He told her formally.
Hermione not her lip. "Griphook? Did Hepzibah return Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket to the vaults?"
The goblin shook his head. "She did not. As a matter of fact I thought to write you about it. When I finished my inventory I realized that they were missing."
"I thought as much." She looked over to the goblin. "You once told me that goblin made items are only on loan to the witch or wizard who purchased them. I'd like for you to have the remaining goblin made pieces from Hepzibah's collection. They were never mine and I've no attachment to them. You've helped us so much throughout the years." This was true. When Hepzibah's mind had begun to deteriorate it had been Griphook that had stepped in on his own to manage her finances and stop her from making unwise investments.
For once the goblin's face lost its impassivity. "Miss Granger, those items are worth a fortune. Are you certain?"
"I am. I know that you can keep them safely away from the wrong hands. Griphook? Had you never considered joining our side?" She asked hopefully.
The goblin shook his head. "It is not the goblin way to side in the wars of humans. I will accept the items with my thanks." He bowed his head.
"I guess I knew that. Can you let me know if ever the family who holds my contracts become aware of me?" She asked hopefully.
"If I can I will." He told her honestly. "You are off to Hogwart's then? Dumbledore will have his way in this at last?"
"Yes, I'll start there next fall. Thank you Griphook." Hermione stood to leave.
As her hand was on the door he suddenly called out. "Miss Granger? Now that you are of age, you may want to visit your family home. I can arrange it for you, discreetly, of course."
She turned back around, confusion coloring her features. There was an urgency in his voice as if he were trying to relay and unspoken message. "I haven't thought of that. I'm not sure I know where it is even located." They had all been very careful to keep away from any of the Granger properties over the years, not wanting to draw any attention.
"Yes, the Granger family seat is located in Wiltshire." He told her with a significant look.
"I'm not sure I understand." Hermione's brow crinkled up in confusion.
The goblin sat back in his high backed chair. He waved a dismissive hand. "Think about it Miss Granger." He turned back to the pile of papers on his desk and would say no more. He didn't even look up when she exited the room.