Stories from the past: Medieval England
A/N: This is the second part of my 'Stories from the past' series.I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1
Early summer, 1267
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
England
Hermione, daughter of the Earl of Kent, was sitting out by the lake enjoying the cool breeze while reading the Suma Theologica by Thomas Aquinas. It wasn't part of the school curriculum, but Hermione enjoyed reading especially when she was able to do so when so many people were illiterate. She had already read most of the books in the library so now she was reading some muggle books sent to her by her father. Her friends Alice and Eloise were making bracelets out of the dandelions that grew at their feet whilst chatting,
"What are we going to do after we leave school?"
"Mayhap I'll get married. I'll be eighteen next week."
Hermione smiled and laughed softly.
"What do you laugh at?" Eloise asked her indignantly.
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
Eloise sighed and slipped her finished bracelet around her wrist and examined in the bright sunshine.
"Hermione, do you know of any herbs that I may use that will rid me of my bothersome freckles?"
"Why no. I wonder why you should ask me such a question."
"Because," Eloise sighed and turned to face her, "we all know that Potions and Herbology are your favourite subjects."
"I'm a healer Eloise.not a beautician."
"Well you ought to be. What is a girl going to do being a healer? You ought to give up that tiresome herb garden of yours and start creating some rouges and kohl.I hope you do give me a free sample. Will you not?"
"Oh, and do not forget me." Alice added.
"Nay, I do like being a healer. I care not for such trivialities such as rouges and kohl. But I do know how to whiten teeth."
The three girls sighed.
Just then, a group of boys walked past. Hermione and Alice and carefully averted their eyes and covered their legs with their woollen gowns but Eloise winked at them with no shame, showing off her brilliantly white and straight teeth - those were rare in those days. She turned back the her two friends as the boys walked past and smiled,
"I would not mind if I were to be wed to one of those fine fellows."
"Eloise, shh! They may hear you."
"I care not. Mama said that Harold was the crème de la crème of the whole lot. His mother and father were on the good side of King Edward before they died.and now he is the sole heir of their property. Sir Harold, Earl of Essex. And I will be his lady."
"Do not engage in one of your girlish fantasies again Eloise. I do not want to be wed. My father never beat my mama but I know of many that do beat their wives and subdue them. Our roles imposed by our gender are magnified if we are wed. I would rather die an old spinster than give up the little freedom I have now." Hermione said loftily, going back to her book.
Summer, 1267
Ipswich Castle, Kent
England
"My lady, you father is gravely ill. Will you do something? He is fevered."
Agnes, her nurse told her quietly when she had arrived home, to Ipswich Castle. Her days at Hogwarts were ended - her days of freedom and learning were gone. And now she was to tread warily around her father, who was so opposed to witchcraft and the memory of her dead mother. Hermione smiled faintly as she looked around the familiar walls of her home, the tapestries made by her grandmother and the silverwares that were laid on the splendid dinning table with her father's ancient carved chair. She could smell the splendid meal being cooked from the kitchen already, chicken with rosemary, almond buns, beef stew.
"My lady? Your father?"
"Oh. Let me see him."
Agnes led Hermione by the hand to William of Granger who lay fevered on his bed, a thin film covered his once bright eyes.
"Joan? What are you doing here? Have I died and gone to heaven as you did so many years ago?" Hermione grasped her father's hand.
"Father, it is Hermione. I am not my mother."
William's shoulders seemed to slack a little and he sighed deeply. "Ah. So you have returned to me from that sinful place of witchcraft." He said as he took her hand. He still loved her dearly. "Have you prayed for forgiveness yet my sweeting?"
"Father, you are very ill. Shall I make a soothing draft for you?"
"No. I forbid you to go about your ways. Call Father Herbert."
"Father.Father Herbert is a priest not a healer."
"And neither are you. I abhor and forbid the ways that you have been taught at that sinful place."
"Father I won't use witchcraft. I'll just make a soothing draft of some herbs from my garden."
Her father merely snorted and closed his eyes and refused to acknowledge her presence. Hermione hung her head and sighed. She knew she could help her father, only he'd never accept it. After placing a kiss on her father's hand, she left the room wearily nearly tripping over the hems over her green woollen gown. Agnes shook her head sadly and followed Hermione out.
"Call Father Herbert." She told Biggs, William of Granger's man.
Father Herbert was a jovial man and had known Hermione since she was but a babe, the fact that Hermione was a witch was a well guarded secret that Father Herbert knew nothing about. Thus he greeted her warmly with a wide smile when he had arrived at the keep.
"Hermione! Back from your studies in France I see."
Father Herbert thought that Hermione was in France studying theology when in reality, she had been at Hogwarts learning magic.
"Father Herbert, father is very ill. Will you not help him?"
Father Herbert sighed. "Your father has had a good life. A long life blessed with riches and a good wife and a good daughter. I have seen this kind of illness in others before and I am afraid I can be of no help but to guide him spiritually."
"Are you saying that father will die?" Hermione gasped, paling. She hadn't thought that her father, so strong a warrior would go so easily. She had always thought he would die in battle in the Holy Land.
"Do not despair. If he does, then he would go to the heavens and be reunited with his wife, Lady Joan."
Agnes undid Hermione's loose braid and combed through her unruly curls with an impatient grunt. "Why did you have to inherit your father's hair Hermione? Your mother had lovely hair."
Hermione smiled faintly at the jest but quickly sobered - her father's ill condition had dampened her spirits and she didn't even enjoy the cook's roast chicken though they were her favourite.
"Agnes?"
"Yes dear?"
"If father were to die.what would happen to me?"
Agnes sighed, "Well you do not have any brothers.your father had better choose a male successor otherwise King Edward would claim the keep and all the other property." Hermione winced as Agnes tore through the length of her hair.
"Gentle! Have patience."
"Quiet child.I'm nearly finished." Agnes gathered Hermione hair and braided in loosely. She then helped Hermione into her night shift and lighted some candles all the while chatting about trivialities. Hermione said nothing but just smiled at her familiar actions; but she thought of her father again and felt like weeping.
"What is the matter? Why are you so grim?"
"Just thinking about father."
"Don't worry sweeting. King Edward is a good man.he'll assign a chivalrous knight to help take care of the keep until you are right for marriage. Then you may choose whom you would be wed to."
"I don't want to be wed. Honestly, why is everyone obsessed with marriage?" she ripped the covers off her bed and slipped in beneath the thin cotton sheets - the summer nights could be quite hot and the shutters were wide open. Outside, she could see the moon and the starts; the crickets and the frogs in the pond were making loud but strangely reassuring noises.
"Who would King Edward assign to look after the keep?" Hermione asked yawning and stretching.
"How would a nurse like me know?" Agnes grumbled impatiently and placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead and patted her head.
"Sleep well child."
With the bright morning sunshine burning her neck, Hermione enjoyed the feel of the cool damp earth of her herb garden. The garden was overgrown with weeds, the herbs spilling from their individual plots; there was a lot of work to be done and Hermione was glad for it; she needed a project to keep herself occupied. It kept her mind from constantly worrying about her father and her future - which seemed very bleak. She sighed deeply as she weeded the garden hoping that her father would recover soon - if her father died then she would know not what to do. Stopping her work for a second and craning her back, Hermione stretched and wiped her sweaty brow with the sleeve of her dress. She looked around the garden. A small area of it was cleared and neat (she had been working on it all morning) but a larger area was wild and needed much more work. Picking up a basket with some harvested herbs, Hermione stood up to tend to another area.
"Ahem."
She whirled around with a small squeal, dropping her basket. Her hands instinctively went to her wand which was concealed in her belt. Her whole body tensed.
"Lady Hermione?"
A young man stood there, dressed in all grey with a wide sword at his side with a whip. He had fiery red hair and bright dark blue eyes, freckles were carelessly sprinkled across his nose and cheeks.
"Who are you?"
The young man looked sheepish and grinned apologetically. He had a full set of teeth and they were white. "I am sorry I frightened you but your people said that you were a healer. Could you help my friend? He is sick in his bowels. I was told by Janet, I suppose she is one of your servant girls, that you would be working on your herb garden."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It is true I am a healer. Tell me what your business is and I may help you."
"I am Ronald, son of Sir Arthur. I am here with Sir Rodger - he's my father's friend. We have been dispatched here by King Edward who has heard the news of your father's grave illness. We are to look after the keep."
"Then you are welcome here, Ronald son of Sir Arthur, Baron of Cambridgeshire. Show me to your friend with the bowel problems. I may be able to help him."
"I am sorry for your father's illness. I do hope he gets better." Ronald said, looking over his shoulder.
"I am sure he shall," Hermione replied, not really believing it entirely. She was walking very quickly, trying to keep up with his giant strides.
"Mayhap we needn't even be here if his Lord makes a full recovery."
Hermione said naught but nodded. She didn't want to think about her father. Ronald led her out to the courtyard where Sir Rodger and his men were. The cook had been generous with the ale and some bread; they were all sitting or standing eating ravenously. Save one man.
"Here he is. He is Harold, Earl of Essex."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. He was Harold? The Harold that had been in the same year as her at Hogwarts? Harold seemed to vaguely recognise her as well, but he seemed to be in too much pain to notice.
"Are you in much pain, my Lord?"
Harold didn't speak but he nodded wearily. He winced in pain but he refused to make any noises. Hermione sighed and crouched down beside Harold and rummaged around in her herb basket. Ronald looked down at her interestedly.
"Here, I will grind some of this gypsum root and mix it with some ale. It will soothe your bowels. I believe they cramp so because you have eaten something that has not agreed with you." Hermione rose from her position and smiled down at Harold. "Don't worry you'll be a bright as sunshine in no time. I'll get my grinder.um.Ronald? Sir? Could you please get your friend some ale?" With that, Hermione turned, picked up her skirts and ran in to the keep and up the stairs. Ronald and Harold stared after her.
She returned a few minutes later with a ceramic bowl containing ground gypsum root. She took the goblet of ale from Ronald and mixed the powder in, swirling it in with her little finger. "Drink."
Harold took the goblet thankfully and drained it in mere seconds.
"I feel much better already, my lady. You are truly a wondrous healer."
Hermione thanked him, blushing slightly.
"I am Harold but my friends call me Harry. I thank you for your ministrations."
"Thank me not Harold. I here you have come here to see to my father. I am glad of that."
"You may call me Harry."
Hermione smiled.
"And I'm Ron."
Hermione turned around - her braid slapped Ronald in the face.
"Oh I'm so sorry. What did you say?"
"Nothing." Ron mumbled, going red in the face to match his hair. Hermione shrugged and turned back to Harry. How was she going to find out whether he was magical or not without revealing herself to be a witch? She certainly did not want to be hanged.
"My Lady! Hermione!"
Agnes the nurse was running towards her, her skirts up to her knees.
"What is it?"
"You must come quickly, it's your father." Agnes told her breathlessly and grabbed her hand and pulled her into a run.
Father Herbert and a grave looking Sir Rodger stood over her father's ancient bed where he lay writhing, his breathing shallow and laboured.
"Father!" tears pooled in Hermione's eyes as she neared the bed.
Father Herbert gently patted her shoulder. "It seems that your father's passing is hard. I am sorry you have to witness this."
"Father. I could make you something to soothe you." Hermione whispered in his ear. He recoiled form her.
"No!" he croaked.
"Will you let me do nothing?"
Her father suddenly grasped her hand and pulled her near him so only she could hear what he had to say.
"Promise me that you will seek forgiveness for your wicked sins. Please, my daughter, so I may see you in heaven."
Hermione couldn't bring herself to say yes or nod. She just stared at her dying father. He looked pained.
"Aye father, I will seek forgiveness." She said. She had committed another sin.
Her father looked relieved and gently closed his eyes. He was gone.
A/N: Hmmm.I am not sure how this will turn out so reviews are welcome! As always.
A/N: This is the second part of my 'Stories from the past' series.I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1
Early summer, 1267
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
England
Hermione, daughter of the Earl of Kent, was sitting out by the lake enjoying the cool breeze while reading the Suma Theologica by Thomas Aquinas. It wasn't part of the school curriculum, but Hermione enjoyed reading especially when she was able to do so when so many people were illiterate. She had already read most of the books in the library so now she was reading some muggle books sent to her by her father. Her friends Alice and Eloise were making bracelets out of the dandelions that grew at their feet whilst chatting,
"What are we going to do after we leave school?"
"Mayhap I'll get married. I'll be eighteen next week."
Hermione smiled and laughed softly.
"What do you laugh at?" Eloise asked her indignantly.
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
Eloise sighed and slipped her finished bracelet around her wrist and examined in the bright sunshine.
"Hermione, do you know of any herbs that I may use that will rid me of my bothersome freckles?"
"Why no. I wonder why you should ask me such a question."
"Because," Eloise sighed and turned to face her, "we all know that Potions and Herbology are your favourite subjects."
"I'm a healer Eloise.not a beautician."
"Well you ought to be. What is a girl going to do being a healer? You ought to give up that tiresome herb garden of yours and start creating some rouges and kohl.I hope you do give me a free sample. Will you not?"
"Oh, and do not forget me." Alice added.
"Nay, I do like being a healer. I care not for such trivialities such as rouges and kohl. But I do know how to whiten teeth."
The three girls sighed.
Just then, a group of boys walked past. Hermione and Alice and carefully averted their eyes and covered their legs with their woollen gowns but Eloise winked at them with no shame, showing off her brilliantly white and straight teeth - those were rare in those days. She turned back the her two friends as the boys walked past and smiled,
"I would not mind if I were to be wed to one of those fine fellows."
"Eloise, shh! They may hear you."
"I care not. Mama said that Harold was the crème de la crème of the whole lot. His mother and father were on the good side of King Edward before they died.and now he is the sole heir of their property. Sir Harold, Earl of Essex. And I will be his lady."
"Do not engage in one of your girlish fantasies again Eloise. I do not want to be wed. My father never beat my mama but I know of many that do beat their wives and subdue them. Our roles imposed by our gender are magnified if we are wed. I would rather die an old spinster than give up the little freedom I have now." Hermione said loftily, going back to her book.
Summer, 1267
Ipswich Castle, Kent
England
"My lady, you father is gravely ill. Will you do something? He is fevered."
Agnes, her nurse told her quietly when she had arrived home, to Ipswich Castle. Her days at Hogwarts were ended - her days of freedom and learning were gone. And now she was to tread warily around her father, who was so opposed to witchcraft and the memory of her dead mother. Hermione smiled faintly as she looked around the familiar walls of her home, the tapestries made by her grandmother and the silverwares that were laid on the splendid dinning table with her father's ancient carved chair. She could smell the splendid meal being cooked from the kitchen already, chicken with rosemary, almond buns, beef stew.
"My lady? Your father?"
"Oh. Let me see him."
Agnes led Hermione by the hand to William of Granger who lay fevered on his bed, a thin film covered his once bright eyes.
"Joan? What are you doing here? Have I died and gone to heaven as you did so many years ago?" Hermione grasped her father's hand.
"Father, it is Hermione. I am not my mother."
William's shoulders seemed to slack a little and he sighed deeply. "Ah. So you have returned to me from that sinful place of witchcraft." He said as he took her hand. He still loved her dearly. "Have you prayed for forgiveness yet my sweeting?"
"Father, you are very ill. Shall I make a soothing draft for you?"
"No. I forbid you to go about your ways. Call Father Herbert."
"Father.Father Herbert is a priest not a healer."
"And neither are you. I abhor and forbid the ways that you have been taught at that sinful place."
"Father I won't use witchcraft. I'll just make a soothing draft of some herbs from my garden."
Her father merely snorted and closed his eyes and refused to acknowledge her presence. Hermione hung her head and sighed. She knew she could help her father, only he'd never accept it. After placing a kiss on her father's hand, she left the room wearily nearly tripping over the hems over her green woollen gown. Agnes shook her head sadly and followed Hermione out.
"Call Father Herbert." She told Biggs, William of Granger's man.
Father Herbert was a jovial man and had known Hermione since she was but a babe, the fact that Hermione was a witch was a well guarded secret that Father Herbert knew nothing about. Thus he greeted her warmly with a wide smile when he had arrived at the keep.
"Hermione! Back from your studies in France I see."
Father Herbert thought that Hermione was in France studying theology when in reality, she had been at Hogwarts learning magic.
"Father Herbert, father is very ill. Will you not help him?"
Father Herbert sighed. "Your father has had a good life. A long life blessed with riches and a good wife and a good daughter. I have seen this kind of illness in others before and I am afraid I can be of no help but to guide him spiritually."
"Are you saying that father will die?" Hermione gasped, paling. She hadn't thought that her father, so strong a warrior would go so easily. She had always thought he would die in battle in the Holy Land.
"Do not despair. If he does, then he would go to the heavens and be reunited with his wife, Lady Joan."
Agnes undid Hermione's loose braid and combed through her unruly curls with an impatient grunt. "Why did you have to inherit your father's hair Hermione? Your mother had lovely hair."
Hermione smiled faintly at the jest but quickly sobered - her father's ill condition had dampened her spirits and she didn't even enjoy the cook's roast chicken though they were her favourite.
"Agnes?"
"Yes dear?"
"If father were to die.what would happen to me?"
Agnes sighed, "Well you do not have any brothers.your father had better choose a male successor otherwise King Edward would claim the keep and all the other property." Hermione winced as Agnes tore through the length of her hair.
"Gentle! Have patience."
"Quiet child.I'm nearly finished." Agnes gathered Hermione hair and braided in loosely. She then helped Hermione into her night shift and lighted some candles all the while chatting about trivialities. Hermione said nothing but just smiled at her familiar actions; but she thought of her father again and felt like weeping.
"What is the matter? Why are you so grim?"
"Just thinking about father."
"Don't worry sweeting. King Edward is a good man.he'll assign a chivalrous knight to help take care of the keep until you are right for marriage. Then you may choose whom you would be wed to."
"I don't want to be wed. Honestly, why is everyone obsessed with marriage?" she ripped the covers off her bed and slipped in beneath the thin cotton sheets - the summer nights could be quite hot and the shutters were wide open. Outside, she could see the moon and the starts; the crickets and the frogs in the pond were making loud but strangely reassuring noises.
"Who would King Edward assign to look after the keep?" Hermione asked yawning and stretching.
"How would a nurse like me know?" Agnes grumbled impatiently and placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead and patted her head.
"Sleep well child."
With the bright morning sunshine burning her neck, Hermione enjoyed the feel of the cool damp earth of her herb garden. The garden was overgrown with weeds, the herbs spilling from their individual plots; there was a lot of work to be done and Hermione was glad for it; she needed a project to keep herself occupied. It kept her mind from constantly worrying about her father and her future - which seemed very bleak. She sighed deeply as she weeded the garden hoping that her father would recover soon - if her father died then she would know not what to do. Stopping her work for a second and craning her back, Hermione stretched and wiped her sweaty brow with the sleeve of her dress. She looked around the garden. A small area of it was cleared and neat (she had been working on it all morning) but a larger area was wild and needed much more work. Picking up a basket with some harvested herbs, Hermione stood up to tend to another area.
"Ahem."
She whirled around with a small squeal, dropping her basket. Her hands instinctively went to her wand which was concealed in her belt. Her whole body tensed.
"Lady Hermione?"
A young man stood there, dressed in all grey with a wide sword at his side with a whip. He had fiery red hair and bright dark blue eyes, freckles were carelessly sprinkled across his nose and cheeks.
"Who are you?"
The young man looked sheepish and grinned apologetically. He had a full set of teeth and they were white. "I am sorry I frightened you but your people said that you were a healer. Could you help my friend? He is sick in his bowels. I was told by Janet, I suppose she is one of your servant girls, that you would be working on your herb garden."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It is true I am a healer. Tell me what your business is and I may help you."
"I am Ronald, son of Sir Arthur. I am here with Sir Rodger - he's my father's friend. We have been dispatched here by King Edward who has heard the news of your father's grave illness. We are to look after the keep."
"Then you are welcome here, Ronald son of Sir Arthur, Baron of Cambridgeshire. Show me to your friend with the bowel problems. I may be able to help him."
"I am sorry for your father's illness. I do hope he gets better." Ronald said, looking over his shoulder.
"I am sure he shall," Hermione replied, not really believing it entirely. She was walking very quickly, trying to keep up with his giant strides.
"Mayhap we needn't even be here if his Lord makes a full recovery."
Hermione said naught but nodded. She didn't want to think about her father. Ronald led her out to the courtyard where Sir Rodger and his men were. The cook had been generous with the ale and some bread; they were all sitting or standing eating ravenously. Save one man.
"Here he is. He is Harold, Earl of Essex."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. He was Harold? The Harold that had been in the same year as her at Hogwarts? Harold seemed to vaguely recognise her as well, but he seemed to be in too much pain to notice.
"Are you in much pain, my Lord?"
Harold didn't speak but he nodded wearily. He winced in pain but he refused to make any noises. Hermione sighed and crouched down beside Harold and rummaged around in her herb basket. Ronald looked down at her interestedly.
"Here, I will grind some of this gypsum root and mix it with some ale. It will soothe your bowels. I believe they cramp so because you have eaten something that has not agreed with you." Hermione rose from her position and smiled down at Harold. "Don't worry you'll be a bright as sunshine in no time. I'll get my grinder.um.Ronald? Sir? Could you please get your friend some ale?" With that, Hermione turned, picked up her skirts and ran in to the keep and up the stairs. Ronald and Harold stared after her.
She returned a few minutes later with a ceramic bowl containing ground gypsum root. She took the goblet of ale from Ronald and mixed the powder in, swirling it in with her little finger. "Drink."
Harold took the goblet thankfully and drained it in mere seconds.
"I feel much better already, my lady. You are truly a wondrous healer."
Hermione thanked him, blushing slightly.
"I am Harold but my friends call me Harry. I thank you for your ministrations."
"Thank me not Harold. I here you have come here to see to my father. I am glad of that."
"You may call me Harry."
Hermione smiled.
"And I'm Ron."
Hermione turned around - her braid slapped Ronald in the face.
"Oh I'm so sorry. What did you say?"
"Nothing." Ron mumbled, going red in the face to match his hair. Hermione shrugged and turned back to Harry. How was she going to find out whether he was magical or not without revealing herself to be a witch? She certainly did not want to be hanged.
"My Lady! Hermione!"
Agnes the nurse was running towards her, her skirts up to her knees.
"What is it?"
"You must come quickly, it's your father." Agnes told her breathlessly and grabbed her hand and pulled her into a run.
Father Herbert and a grave looking Sir Rodger stood over her father's ancient bed where he lay writhing, his breathing shallow and laboured.
"Father!" tears pooled in Hermione's eyes as she neared the bed.
Father Herbert gently patted her shoulder. "It seems that your father's passing is hard. I am sorry you have to witness this."
"Father. I could make you something to soothe you." Hermione whispered in his ear. He recoiled form her.
"No!" he croaked.
"Will you let me do nothing?"
Her father suddenly grasped her hand and pulled her near him so only she could hear what he had to say.
"Promise me that you will seek forgiveness for your wicked sins. Please, my daughter, so I may see you in heaven."
Hermione couldn't bring herself to say yes or nod. She just stared at her dying father. He looked pained.
"Aye father, I will seek forgiveness." She said. She had committed another sin.
Her father looked relieved and gently closed his eyes. He was gone.
A/N: Hmmm.I am not sure how this will turn out so reviews are welcome! As always.