Estelle was bored.
Beyond bored, really. Miserable. Devastated. And horrified that so many stupid men existed in the world. She shuddered as another man walked up the red carpet and bowed before her. "Your Highness," he murmured, then grabbed her hand and slobbered over it. It was all that Estelle could do to stand still until he was finished. At least he was better looking than most - wavy blonde hair and elaborate dress robes. The man straightened and winked at her cheekily. Estelle smiled dutifully.
I hope somebody blasts you against a wall, she thought.
Briefly, as the next one approached, she considered faking a faint. But no - her father would know what she was up to. She glanced upwards to the balcony where her father was watching. This had been his idea. Estelle fumed as she waited for the next man to bow. By Merlin's beard! She was only twenty-four years old. She wasn't exactly an old maid. She had plenty of time. But her father just kept blabbing on about grandchildren and heirs and about how she needed to get married RIGHT NOW. So here she was. Finally, as the next man reached for her hand, she gave up. There was no way she could take another minute of this. With a murmured apology to no one in particular, she yanked her hand away and swept off to the back halls.
"Princess! Where are you going?" asked one of her ladies-in-waiting, hurrying over.
"Bathroom," said Estelle glibly. "I need to wash my hands." It was true. After being kissed by so many men, her right hand was stiff with saliva.
She didn't wait for the woman to reply, instead half-running to the restroom and slamming the door shut. Without further ado she washed her hands, then took a minute to enjoy the quiet solitude.
Now it was time to put her plan into action. Estelle reached up and yanked her hairbow out, letting her golden curls fall to her waist, and stripped the elaborate gold dress off to reveal a plain, close-fitting green dress. With any luck, none of her suitors would recognize her.
Estelle suddenly paused in the act of brushing her hair and frowned. Was that a motorcycle she had heard?
The landing had been a bit bumpy, but otherwise everything had gone smoothly enough. Snape smirked and patted the seat of Black's flying motorcycle. It had been standing right next to Hagrid's hut, completely unguarded - he hadn't been able to resist.
Snape parked the bike in the forest surrounding the castle, hiding it well in the shadows. He reached into the pocket of the dress robes and pulled out the silver ribbon. Carefully, he tied back his newly washed hair into a low ponytail.
Ready to go. Snape walked confidently towards the main gate - And realized he had forgotten his invitation.
Snape swore. All that trouble to get here and now he couldn't get in. Swiftly he glanced around him. Castle to left, forest to right, and a wonderfully low-lying balcony just fifty feet away.
Plan B, Plan B, thought Estelle desperately. She had managed to make it through the main rooms unnoticed, but had been discovered by two of her most ardent suitors when she had reached the outdoor balcony.
"Darling!" said Lord Slimee, taking her hand.
"Love bug!" cried the Duke of Smellington, grabbing her arm.
Help, thought Estelle.
"Get off her, you pinhead, she's mine!" snarled Slimee.
"No she isn't, she loves me!" shouted Smellington. Instantly Estelle found herself in the midst of a tug-o-war.
"Help!" she shouted as the two men threatened to tear her apart.
"Problem, gentlemen?" said an icy cold voice. The two men dropped Estelle and turned to see a dark figure drop lightly to the balcony floor. It was too dark to see his face, but he was clearly a head taller than either of them. The two gawked, then turned and ran back into the ballroom.
Estelle began to awkwardly climb to her feet. The dark man caught her elbow gently and helped her up. She turned, equally ready to thank him or to run away if he recognized her.
She caught her breath, startled for a moment. The stranger was certainly not handsome; thin and deathly pale, with a hooked nose and long hair caught back into a pony-tail - but he was striking. Maybe it was the way his black eyes glittered in the moonlight, or the sweeping line of those faintly elegant cheekbones.
"Are you all right?" the man asked. His baritone sent shivers up and down Estelle's spine.
She summoned her "royal" smile. "Yes, thank you," she said politely. There was an awkward pause, then Estelle held out her hand. "I'm, um, Essie May," she said, grasping at the first name she could think of.
The man stared at her proffered hand as if he had never seen anyone shake, but then rather stiffly took it. "Severus Snape," he said. He jerked his head towards the door, where Slimee and Smellington had vanished. "Don't you hate people like them?"
"Yes," said Essie, relieved to have found a topic of conversation. "They're so annoying - "
"And rude - "
"Presumptuous - "
"Never do their share of the work - "
"Exactly!" said Estelle with a laugh. A ghost of a smile traced up Snape's face. At that moment they both realized they were still holding hands, and quickly dropped them. Estelle turned out to the star-filled sky, then back to him.
"Have you ever been to a Royal Ball before?" she asked.
Essie May, hmm? thought Snape. She was leaning back against the railing now, talking and laughing. Snape looked her up and down with a practiced eye. She certainly did not appear rich, but there was a faint courtliness to her manner. Most likely a lady-in-waiting, taking a break from her duties.
Whoever she was, a few minutes' conversation was enough to tell that she was intelligent. Snape also leaned back against the railing as they continued to talk. He was surprised; he would have thought that all of these royal court types were cretins. He was also surprised to find that he rather liked her. He was a great deal more used to hating people on first sight than liking them.
Essie suddenly cocked her head at the music flowing from the open door. "Oh, my favorite," she breathed. Standing up, she twirled, her body lithe and graceful as she swayed to the music. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Don't you know how to dance?"
"Not this one," said Snape hastily, but it was too late. She pulled him out onto the balcony floor and began to teach him. It was certainly complicated, but after a few moments Snape could dance it fairly well. Estelle was laughing and he was smiling as they spun about. Her body was warm against his, and he felt his heart falter as she laid her golden head briefly against his chest. Don't fall in love with her, you idiot, he told himself, gazing down his beautiful partner. Don't do it, don't -
Oh, too late.
The dance ended, and they came to a halt. Essie dropped onto a balcony and Snape followed suite, breathing rather heavily. That had certainly been a spirited dance. He had always wondered how royal princesses stayed in shape.
He looked down at Essie, who was looking up. She did have beautiful eyes, wide and blue as a clear pool. Without realizing it he was leaning far closer than he should have, but she did not seem to mind. Their faces were almost touching -
Ding-dong.
The tests!
Estelle saw Snape jerk away and stare up at the clock; then, in one fluid motion, he was vaulting over the balcony wall.
Afraid that he was falling, Estelle reached out a hand to catch him, but it was too late. Something came away in her hand, but she did not stop to see what as she peered down at the ground. Snape was fine, standing on the ground looking up at her.
"Wait!" she called out desperately.
He shook his dark head and yelled up "Hogwarts!" Then he was gone. A few seconds later, Estelle heard a motorcyle starting up.
Estelle turned away and sat back down on the bench, taking deep breaths. It was all right. He was gone, but she knew where he was. She could go see him tomorrow.
For the first time, she looking down at the silver ribbon she was holding in her hand.
"Estelle!" she heard her father roar, and turned just in time to see him and an army of advisors storm the balcony. For some reason, her father always made her think of battle maneuvers.
Her huge, gray-bearded father opened his mouth to speak, but Estelle cut him off. "I found him," she said quietly.
"What?" asked her father blankly, then suddenly comprehended. His stern face beamed. "Well, where is he?"
"He's gone," said Estelle shortly. The smile on the king's face instantly vanished.
"Well, we'll just have to find him!" he roared, then caught sight of the ribbon in her hand. He snatched it up and turned to the crowd behind him. "Whoever's hair is long enough to be tied back by this ribbon," he shouted to them, "will have my daughter's hand in marriage!"
"WHAT!" shrieked Estelle. "Give me that!" She snatched the ribbon back. "Father, I know where - "
"Don't worry, my dear," her father boomed. "Daddy will handle everything."
"WAIT!" Estelle screamed, but her ladies-in-waiting were already carrying her off. As they carried her down the corridors to her bedroom, Estelle hung her head.
It was so embarrassing to be a princess.
Beyond bored, really. Miserable. Devastated. And horrified that so many stupid men existed in the world. She shuddered as another man walked up the red carpet and bowed before her. "Your Highness," he murmured, then grabbed her hand and slobbered over it. It was all that Estelle could do to stand still until he was finished. At least he was better looking than most - wavy blonde hair and elaborate dress robes. The man straightened and winked at her cheekily. Estelle smiled dutifully.
I hope somebody blasts you against a wall, she thought.
Briefly, as the next one approached, she considered faking a faint. But no - her father would know what she was up to. She glanced upwards to the balcony where her father was watching. This had been his idea. Estelle fumed as she waited for the next man to bow. By Merlin's beard! She was only twenty-four years old. She wasn't exactly an old maid. She had plenty of time. But her father just kept blabbing on about grandchildren and heirs and about how she needed to get married RIGHT NOW. So here she was. Finally, as the next man reached for her hand, she gave up. There was no way she could take another minute of this. With a murmured apology to no one in particular, she yanked her hand away and swept off to the back halls.
"Princess! Where are you going?" asked one of her ladies-in-waiting, hurrying over.
"Bathroom," said Estelle glibly. "I need to wash my hands." It was true. After being kissed by so many men, her right hand was stiff with saliva.
She didn't wait for the woman to reply, instead half-running to the restroom and slamming the door shut. Without further ado she washed her hands, then took a minute to enjoy the quiet solitude.
Now it was time to put her plan into action. Estelle reached up and yanked her hairbow out, letting her golden curls fall to her waist, and stripped the elaborate gold dress off to reveal a plain, close-fitting green dress. With any luck, none of her suitors would recognize her.
Estelle suddenly paused in the act of brushing her hair and frowned. Was that a motorcycle she had heard?
The landing had been a bit bumpy, but otherwise everything had gone smoothly enough. Snape smirked and patted the seat of Black's flying motorcycle. It had been standing right next to Hagrid's hut, completely unguarded - he hadn't been able to resist.
Snape parked the bike in the forest surrounding the castle, hiding it well in the shadows. He reached into the pocket of the dress robes and pulled out the silver ribbon. Carefully, he tied back his newly washed hair into a low ponytail.
Ready to go. Snape walked confidently towards the main gate - And realized he had forgotten his invitation.
Snape swore. All that trouble to get here and now he couldn't get in. Swiftly he glanced around him. Castle to left, forest to right, and a wonderfully low-lying balcony just fifty feet away.
Plan B, Plan B, thought Estelle desperately. She had managed to make it through the main rooms unnoticed, but had been discovered by two of her most ardent suitors when she had reached the outdoor balcony.
"Darling!" said Lord Slimee, taking her hand.
"Love bug!" cried the Duke of Smellington, grabbing her arm.
Help, thought Estelle.
"Get off her, you pinhead, she's mine!" snarled Slimee.
"No she isn't, she loves me!" shouted Smellington. Instantly Estelle found herself in the midst of a tug-o-war.
"Help!" she shouted as the two men threatened to tear her apart.
"Problem, gentlemen?" said an icy cold voice. The two men dropped Estelle and turned to see a dark figure drop lightly to the balcony floor. It was too dark to see his face, but he was clearly a head taller than either of them. The two gawked, then turned and ran back into the ballroom.
Estelle began to awkwardly climb to her feet. The dark man caught her elbow gently and helped her up. She turned, equally ready to thank him or to run away if he recognized her.
She caught her breath, startled for a moment. The stranger was certainly not handsome; thin and deathly pale, with a hooked nose and long hair caught back into a pony-tail - but he was striking. Maybe it was the way his black eyes glittered in the moonlight, or the sweeping line of those faintly elegant cheekbones.
"Are you all right?" the man asked. His baritone sent shivers up and down Estelle's spine.
She summoned her "royal" smile. "Yes, thank you," she said politely. There was an awkward pause, then Estelle held out her hand. "I'm, um, Essie May," she said, grasping at the first name she could think of.
The man stared at her proffered hand as if he had never seen anyone shake, but then rather stiffly took it. "Severus Snape," he said. He jerked his head towards the door, where Slimee and Smellington had vanished. "Don't you hate people like them?"
"Yes," said Essie, relieved to have found a topic of conversation. "They're so annoying - "
"And rude - "
"Presumptuous - "
"Never do their share of the work - "
"Exactly!" said Estelle with a laugh. A ghost of a smile traced up Snape's face. At that moment they both realized they were still holding hands, and quickly dropped them. Estelle turned out to the star-filled sky, then back to him.
"Have you ever been to a Royal Ball before?" she asked.
Essie May, hmm? thought Snape. She was leaning back against the railing now, talking and laughing. Snape looked her up and down with a practiced eye. She certainly did not appear rich, but there was a faint courtliness to her manner. Most likely a lady-in-waiting, taking a break from her duties.
Whoever she was, a few minutes' conversation was enough to tell that she was intelligent. Snape also leaned back against the railing as they continued to talk. He was surprised; he would have thought that all of these royal court types were cretins. He was also surprised to find that he rather liked her. He was a great deal more used to hating people on first sight than liking them.
Essie suddenly cocked her head at the music flowing from the open door. "Oh, my favorite," she breathed. Standing up, she twirled, her body lithe and graceful as she swayed to the music. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Don't you know how to dance?"
"Not this one," said Snape hastily, but it was too late. She pulled him out onto the balcony floor and began to teach him. It was certainly complicated, but after a few moments Snape could dance it fairly well. Estelle was laughing and he was smiling as they spun about. Her body was warm against his, and he felt his heart falter as she laid her golden head briefly against his chest. Don't fall in love with her, you idiot, he told himself, gazing down his beautiful partner. Don't do it, don't -
Oh, too late.
The dance ended, and they came to a halt. Essie dropped onto a balcony and Snape followed suite, breathing rather heavily. That had certainly been a spirited dance. He had always wondered how royal princesses stayed in shape.
He looked down at Essie, who was looking up. She did have beautiful eyes, wide and blue as a clear pool. Without realizing it he was leaning far closer than he should have, but she did not seem to mind. Their faces were almost touching -
Ding-dong.
The tests!
Estelle saw Snape jerk away and stare up at the clock; then, in one fluid motion, he was vaulting over the balcony wall.
Afraid that he was falling, Estelle reached out a hand to catch him, but it was too late. Something came away in her hand, but she did not stop to see what as she peered down at the ground. Snape was fine, standing on the ground looking up at her.
"Wait!" she called out desperately.
He shook his dark head and yelled up "Hogwarts!" Then he was gone. A few seconds later, Estelle heard a motorcyle starting up.
Estelle turned away and sat back down on the bench, taking deep breaths. It was all right. He was gone, but she knew where he was. She could go see him tomorrow.
For the first time, she looking down at the silver ribbon she was holding in her hand.
"Estelle!" she heard her father roar, and turned just in time to see him and an army of advisors storm the balcony. For some reason, her father always made her think of battle maneuvers.
Her huge, gray-bearded father opened his mouth to speak, but Estelle cut him off. "I found him," she said quietly.
"What?" asked her father blankly, then suddenly comprehended. His stern face beamed. "Well, where is he?"
"He's gone," said Estelle shortly. The smile on the king's face instantly vanished.
"Well, we'll just have to find him!" he roared, then caught sight of the ribbon in her hand. He snatched it up and turned to the crowd behind him. "Whoever's hair is long enough to be tied back by this ribbon," he shouted to them, "will have my daughter's hand in marriage!"
"WHAT!" shrieked Estelle. "Give me that!" She snatched the ribbon back. "Father, I know where - "
"Don't worry, my dear," her father boomed. "Daddy will handle everything."
"WAIT!" Estelle screamed, but her ladies-in-waiting were already carrying her off. As they carried her down the corridors to her bedroom, Estelle hung her head.
It was so embarrassing to be a princess.