Title: The Cinderella Chronicles
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters...yada...yada...you must be very dense to believe that I own them...the Cinderella plot, of course, isn't mine as well. [I wish...]
Author's Note: Whoa! It's been a very loooong time. A year to be exact. What can I say? Reality kept knocking on my door, calling me on the phone and basically, it kept on bugging me and following me wherever I go. In other words, I had schoolwork to do and being the person that I am, I can't afford to take my studies for granted. But here is the second chapter anyway. Sorry for the short chapter, but I had to cut chapter 2 into two chapters because it was very long, so the other half would be chapter 3. Thanks by the way to all those who reviewed, and I still accept flames. Thanks also to Isis for proofreading this chapter. I hope you enjoy reading this dull chapter. Cheerio!
Chapter Summary: Harry wakes up [duh!], Hermione's preparation for the Ball, and oh...I don't know... the Masquerade Ball?!?
Chapter 2: The Green-eyed Prince Charming
"Ennervate"
Harry felt sluggish and confused. He felt like his arms were pounds of lead and his eyelids tons of granite. He couldn't open them one bit. He couldn't even remember what happened. He was just about to sort out his thoughts when something or someone jabbed at him. Actually, it was more like a soft poke by a sharp and pointed object. Harry Potter slowly opened his eyes and saw a ginger-haired boy poking his chest with a wand.
"Aaaaaahhhh!" screamed a very shocked and bewildered Harry.
"Oh good! You're awake already." Ron then stood upright and assisted Harry to the small bed to their left. He then proceeded on to hand him a slab of sweet, delectable chocolate, which Harry accepted with raised eyebrows. "Don't worry the chocolate's not drugged or anything. It'll help you recover a bit." Harry took a little bite at first. He then felt warmth spread throughout his body, starting from his fingertips to his toes. He felt all tingly.
"You gave me a fright there, y'know. I suppose it is quite shocking to be fuming by yourself in your room and suddenly finding a wizard in your midst while wearing a cocktail dress and all," said Ron matter-of-factly.
"Yes, it is a bit shocking," agreed Harry with another bite of chocolate. "It's Ron, right?" Ron nodded. "What are you doing here? and why would a wizard visit me in the middle of my raving?" asked Harry with a mouthful of chocolate.
"Well, I was about to tell you that when you fainted," replied Ron, "You have a godfather and he's Sirius Black, but he was sent on a mission going to Timbuktu."
"Why was he sent to Timbuktu?" interrupted Harry.
"The answer to that is I don't know. You see, I'm just sort of a substitute for him while he's gone to Timbuktu. I handle all the paperwork. I attend all his seminars and meetings and I do most of the boring and dull office work, but I don't really know what he does to the places that he goes to,"
"So, you're like his assistant?" inquired Harry.
"Yes, sort of. Anyway, I came here because you're in dire need of help, rescuing, and new and fashionable clothes, as my memo here tells me," answered Ron.
"Well, isn't it quite evident that I need rescuing? I'm stuck here in this dusty, old attic while the Masquerade Ball, which I'm dying to attend, has already started! I'm also wondering why my frickin' godfather never came during all these years of sheer torment and oh, I don't know, abuse?!?" replied Harry sardonically.
"What was that again? Sheer torment and?" questioned Ron while taking down on his little memo pad what Harry has just said.
"Um....abuse?" responded Harry while watching him curiously. "Can I ask you a question, Ron?"
"Sure, what is it?"
"Why are you jotting down what I said?" asked Harry carefully.
"Oh! Well, I wrote down what you said because I'm going to make a report after this and Sirius will read it when he gets back."
"Oh, I see! Um...so can I go to the Masquerade Ball right now?"
"NO! You have to look absolutely spiffy and dashing, and you're not anywhere near that description," pointed out Ron hastily without any trace of malice.
Harry was indignant and insulted. "Well, thanks very much for the compliment, Ron. Besides, I don't see you helping me to be spiffy or dashing in any way."
"I didn't mean it like that. You see, I can give you more extravagant and expensive clothes than what you're wearing right now; therefore, you can look like a dashing prince and steal Princess Hermione's heart," replied a very embarrassed and worried Ron while eyeing Harry carefully.
"Fine then, but can you wave your wand, do magic or whatever, so that I can look like a 'dashing prince' and go to the Ball?" Harry was already getting impatient and finished the whole slab of chocolate that Ron gave him earlier in an attempt to calm down his fraying nerves.
"Don't worry. This will all be done in a jiffy."
Being the day of her most-awaited party, Princess Hermione was extremely nervous and excited at the same time; nervous at the thought of picking her future husband and excited at the prospect of a new beginning, a new life with hopefully, the right person. The day went by sluggishly like a snail crossing a very wide road. It was as if the fates suddenly agreed on making everything move slowly. Hermione couldn't take it any longer, so she decided to spend the afternoon reading in their vast and magnificent library.
"Which one to read? I can't choose between A Midsummer Night's Dream and Romeo and Juliet. Which one to read? Hmmm. Can't really decide. I'll read both," said Hermione contemplatively. And so she read William Shakespeare's works without any interruption. However, when she was already halfway through Romeo and Juliet, Virginia otherwise known as Ginny disrupted her light reading.
"Mione? Are you in here?" asked Ginny cautiously. While walking around the towering book shelves, Ginny saw Hermione at the far side of the library, seated at a long table by the high windows. She found her reading a very thick volume, her nose only about an inch away from the book. "Hermione!"
Hermione was quite surprised and jumped up a little, dropping her thick and heavy book which fell to the floor, and in turn hit her foot. "Ouch!" Ginny immediately ran to her side and was saying apologies fervently. Hermione, on the other hand, was jumping up and down while holding her foot.
"I'm terribly sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to startle you. I really am sorry. Are you all right? Are you still alive? Does it hurt in any way?" Ginny prompted while picking up Hermione's book.
"Of course it hurts, Ginny! I'm not a block of stone, you know. And why are you here anyway?" Hermione was cursing to herself. Her foot was starting to get better and she was slowly sitting down now.
"Well, King Albus instructed me to find you. Are you sure you're all right?" Ginny asked again carefully.
"Why is Father looking for me?" replied Hermione while nursing her foot.
"He said that you should start preparing for the Ball because it'll begin in a few hours time, and he knows how you are when preparing for something," answered Ginny matter-of-factly while putting the heavy tome on the table. "Are you really, really sure that you're all right and that you can walk?" Ginny was looking at Hermione anxiously, with concern etched across her face.
"Yes, Ginny. I can walk. Don't worry. By the time the Ball starts, I'll be up and dancing with the whole male population of our kingdom," smiled Hermione as she stood up. "C'mon. I need you to help me fix my hair. Could you? Please?"
"I'd be glad to. Let's hurry. I know you get picky and moody when you prepare for something big," Ginny snickered.
"Oh shut up! I do not get moody!" Hermione said indignantly.
"Yes you are. See? It's starting already."
And both of them headed to Hermione's room laughing their hearts out like the old times when they were still children.
"You know Mione, your dress really looks wonderful. The cloth has a very nice texture. And the color! Blue is really your color," exclaimed Ginny excitedly while caressing Hermione's dress.
They were inside the Princess' vast room which was warmly furnished with pale blue silk curtains. There were soft and plump high-backed chairs placed by the fireplace, and in the middle of the room was a queen-sized, canopied bed covered in a rich blue blanket. On top of the blanket were large, soft pillows. Her room was filled with bluebells, most of which were placed in huge vases.
"I know! Right when the dress-maker showed me the dress, I knew it was THE dress. Even Father agreed that it fitted me nicely," replied Hermione while brushing her long, brown hair. She was seated at her vanity table that was covered in various cosmetics, brushes, perfumes, and those other things girls consider as necessities.
After arriving at Hermione's room, they immediately laid out everything on her bed while Ginny prepared the cosmetics and of course, Hermione's mask. Ginny herself was attending the ball, being the Princess' best friend since they were wee little babies. Their friendship actually started when Ginny's father, one of the wealthiest in the kingdom, came to visit the king, and she had come along. They came there about some business her father was handling for the king, and she came because she was excited at the thought of a great castle with kings, queens, and even princesses living on it. Being a little girl back then, she would naturally have fantasies about living in a palace, so she had wandered off while her father had stayed in the drawing room. While she was doing her little tour of the palace, she had bumped into Hermione, and from there, they became inseparable.
"Let me fix your hair, Mione. Then, you can fix mine afterwards." Ginny was about to go over to her best friend and was about to start doing unspeakable things to the delicate hair, when Hermione halted her.
"Wait! Don't you think it's logical that I should put on my dress first because if you fix my hair first, then it might get messed up when I put on the dress afterwards?" a wide-eyed Hermione said.
"Fine. It's logical, so put on the dress already," answered Ginny. So Hermione had got hold of her dress, and after a few minutes of struggling, had put it on.
"What kind of hairstyle would you like? Would you like your hair up or down?" Ginny was brushing her best friend's hair thoroughly while thinking of possible hairdos.
Hermione was considering both options. If it was down, it would be stifling hot. If it was up, she'd be having a hard time maintaining the look. Hairs might even be sticking out by the end of the Masquerade Ball. "I would like it down, please. It'd be really hard trying not to ruin my hair if its up," she answered calculatingly.
"Okie dokie! Down it is, my good friend. Oooh! I know the right thing for your hair." And after some minutes of twisting , brushing, and twirling, Hermione's hair was magnificent. Her hair was down, and it was very shiny and shimmery. It was very curly, and bouncy at the ends. It was the brownest of the brown.
Ginny had done a wonderful job with Hermione's hair and said, "There! All done. Now, you can do my hair, my dear friend."
"Wow! You did a marvelous job, Ginny! Really! I never thought my hair would be this bouncy!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. She was bouncing her hair playfully.
"Well, it was quite difficult to curl all that hair. Anyway, I want my hair to be down," sighed Ginny.
"Thank you! And I know the perfect hairdo for your blazing tresses!" Hermione then proceeded on brushing Ginny's hair enthusiastically, but she suddenly stopped.
"Wait!" Hermione said while biting her bottom lip.
"What now? " Ginny asked, annoyed.
"Well, you should put your dress on too because you hair would be ruined."
"You know, you should stop thinking so much." Ginny was considering the case, "Well, I'll be back in a minute or so. I'll just get my dress from the guest room, okay?" She then left and proceeded on to the guest room, which was only about three doors away from Hermione's room.
When she came back, she was already in her dress. It was a bright jade dress and it was silken and sleek, even from afar. The dress looked a lot like Hermione's except that the trims were not gold, but silver, and that it was silk not velvet. The sleeves were flared at the ends, and there were floral designs adorning the the hem of the sleeves.
"You look beautiful, Ginny! But you'll look even more beautiful if I fix your hair." And fix it she did.
After leaving poor Harry locked up in the musty, old attic, the Snapes would naturally head to the Masquerade Ball. Draped in glorious, highly-expensive and warm garments, Draco and his father, Severus, talked about the impending Masquerade Ball.
"Father, do you suppose Hermione would pick me tonight? I mean, I know I'm handsome, astute, and charming, but I'm having doubts that she'll pick some lowly peasant undeserving of such an honor of marrying a princess," Draco stated glumly while looking out the window. He was also holding his black mask at that time. It was quite dark outside with only the bright moon as the source of light and a blanket of stars twinkling in the velvet-like night sky. Draco was dressed in a gray renaissance shirt made of velvet, and black breeches that he just bought days ago. His boots were front lace calf-height boots made of leather. "What about you Vincent? Do you think she'll pick me out of all those desperate fools dressed in rags?"
"Uh-huh," replied his mammoth of a brother dumbly. "Wait! What was the question again?" Vincent was scratching his head in a savage manner in an attempt to remember the question.
"Don't fret Draco! Certainly Princess Hermione would pick you. Have a little confidence in yourself. Besides, I know for a fact that you have the highest chances of being picked by the princess according to this poll conducted by the Official Nosey, Never Minding Their Own Business Association of which I am president," said Snape regally, ending the conversation promptly.
A silence and a flat excitement slowly enveloped them as they neared the palace. Plenty of carriages were already lined outside; different shaped and colored ones, each giving away the social stature of its owner. The guests were already entering the palace premises, each one adorned in expensive- looking clothes of various colors and textures.
Stopping abruptly at the front of the palace, the Snapes' carriage was decorated simply with clear-cut engravings and their family crest. The three pompous men stepped out of their stagecoach flamboyantly, already wearing their masks. Although no one can actually see his face, Draco was, as always, busy showing off his *ahem* his ruddy good looks, and for which the author straightforwardly worship and adulate this gorgeous platinum-haired, fair-looking adolescent [a/n: was that too much?]. Vincent was practically running to the palace, unabashedly impatient to wait for the food while Severus was walking like any person who thinks himself a king.
Upon entering the ballroom, Draco immediately sought out the Princess though he could only see a sea of masks. He pushed his way to the thrones at the other side of the room, thinking that Hermione was there.
Hermione, being the smart person that she is, recognized Draco right away because of his unmistakably blonde hair that was a dead giveaway to anyone. His hair was actually very popular in the whole kingdom and girls practically lined up for his attention, but not Hermione.
"Hello there, Princess Hermione."
Hearing this statement, the Princess looked up, and upon seeing the smirking Draco, frowned obviously. She was clearly upset and agitated that her worst nightmare had found her. After expelling a very long sigh, Hermione straightened herself and welcomed the Snapes as they reached the front of the room. The Princess was unmistakably trying to smile and forcing herself to act nonchalantly.
"Welcome Severus, Vincent, and Draco. How are all of you doing?" Hermione said with a forced smile plastered on her face.
"We're doing fabulously, Hermione. How are you? Happy Birthday, by the way," responded Draco boringly.
"How did you recognize me, Draco?"
"Well, your brown hair told me. You see, you're the only one who has that kind of brown hair. Although your tresses are quite beautiful, mine are still the best."
"I totally agree, Draco and thank you for the compliment," answered Hermione acidly.
Draco was obviously oblivious to what Hermione tried to impart. "Maybe you could dance with me, Hermione," cooed Draco seductively.
"Maybe later, Draco. Well, I do hope you enjoy the party, but I have some business to attend to and I have to look for Ginny. Hope you have a great time tonight." And she left immediately, trying to avoid Draco. 'I have a feeling this will be a very long night.'
"Stand still."
"I am standing still, for your information," answered Harry indignantly.
"No, you are not. You're moving a lot, actually," Ron said while calculating what clothes looked best on Harry. "Hmmm. How about this?" He waved his hand, and there was a *pop*. Harry was now dressed in a Scotsman's outfit, a kilt to be exact. The kilt was blue and white, and he had a plain white shirt on. He was holding a bagpipe, and was even wearing a beret.
"Ron, nice job! Now, I look like a Scot. D' you think this outfit is appropriate for the Masquerade Ball?" Harry said sarcastically.
"Hehe. Sorry about that. Don't worry. The next one will be perfect!" said Ron sheepishly. Again, he waved his wand and another *pop* came. This time, however, Harry was wearing baggy pants, a baggy shirt, and a cap. Basically, everything was baggy. He looked a lot like Coolio, and it wasn't just the clothes. His hair was done in a style African-Americans have today. Actually, he looked like a modern day rapper.
"Oh man! Again, nice job, Ron! You couldn't have done it any better. Really, I could pass for a rapper or something." Harry was getting irritated by the minute, and was ready to throttle Ron.
"Sorry! Really, I'm sorry about that. I've already done this before. It must be that my wand is malfunctioning or something, but don't worry. The next will be the prince charming outfit," answered Ron while backing away from Harry in fear of being strangled. He then waved his wand and the third *pop* came. Harry was now dressed in leather pants, a white, ragged shirt, a leather jacket, and combat boots. He was dressed like a rock star.
Harry was livid. In fact, he was already advancing on Ron, and was about to grab his neck and squeeze the life out of him.
"Wait! Don't kill me. If you, by any chance, murder me, then you won't be able to go to the Masquerade Ball, therefore, you won't be able to make Princess Hermione fall in love with you," Ron said hastily as he was on the brink of getting executed.
"Fine, but you better do it right this time because I'm losing my patience enormously." Another flick of Ron's wand and the *pop* reverberated. Now, Harry was dressed in a gown. It was pink in color, and it had several petticoats under it. There were plenty of laces on the sleeves, and there were some fancy embroidery on the chest. Harry was even wearing THE glass slippers. Now, he really looked like Cinderella.
Harry was tapping his foot impatiently. His fraying nerves had already snapped, and he was looking at Ron murderously. "I thought that you would do it right this time," Harry muttered through gritted teeth.
"Didn't I? Besides, you look pretty in pink, right?" Ron was very scared of Harry right now. You would be too if you saw him. His eyes were near to popping, and there was a nerve twitching beside his left eye. He was poised to attack Ron like a lion poised to attack an antelope.
Because of Harry's obvious anger and in an attempt to calm down himself, all he could say was, "One last chance." And because of Ron's fear of Harry killing him, he flicked his wand again, and yes, there was another *pop*. This time, Ron got it right.
"Finally!" Harry said with relief. "And thank you. But I have a question." A pause. "How am I suppose to go there?"
"Oh! I nearly forgot that one. Well," Ron said, "do you have a pumpkin?"
The Ball was already going smoothly, and Hermione had been asked to a dance once in a while. She had even danced with her father, King Albus, and Ginny's father, Lord Richard. Everything was going by nicely. Draco hadn't even bothered her, but she suspected that he had been preoccupied with all the girls drooling all over him and that he probably can't find her.
Hermione was having a hard time choosing a groom. Everyone was very nice to her, but she assumed that they were only nice because she was a Princess. Stupid Masquerade! Didn't even work. Most of them can still identify me. Now, if they didn't know that it was me, then I could really find a groom who would know me as me and not me as a princess. Because she was really having a hard time choosing a husband and didn't like to think about it much, she set off to find Ginny who could help her find one.
When she was about to go to the other side of the room, she realized that she needed a drink first, so she went to the refreshment table to get a little drink. When she was done drinking to her throat's content, Hermione started for the other side of the room.
And that's when she saw him. He had just entered the Ballroom, and had just probably arrived. He was walking towards the refreshment table. He was the most beautiful sight she'd ever laid eyes on. He was tall though not lanky. He had unruly raven hair and was medium built. His skin was tan and looked soft from afar. He wore a plain white shirt with a moss green suede jerkin on top. He also wore black breeches and knee- high leather boots. He had a white mask covering his face.
Hermione was completely taken aback. She was in a state of shock. She was even gaping at the mysterious man with her mouth open. She only regained her composure when someone bumped into her. She then turned to lash at the person who bumped into her when she realized it was Ginny.
"Oh! I've been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?" asked Ginny jovially. "I've been having the time of my life, you know. And today being your birthday, I thought that you should be having the time of your life also. Dear me! Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Ginny. Come. Must. See. Guy. Over. There" Hermione then pointed to the refreshment table.
"Whatever are you talking about?" Ginny was getting confused. Never in her life was there a moment when Hermione had been this incoherent.
But Hermione was unable to answer because as Ginny asked the question, she had already dragged her to the refreshment table.
Next Chapter: Harry and Hermione's magical dance.
Author's Note: Please pretend that they knew about rappers back then. I was running out of ideas, so that was the result. So sorry for such lame ideas. ^.^
There isn't much H/Hr action in this chapter, but the next chapter is full of fluff, so don't worry! I'm hoping that I'll be able to post chapter 3 soon, so be patient. If you have any comments and/or suggestions or you just like to bash my fic, you can simply click the button down there and review away. :p