Disclaimer: Oops! I forgot the disclaimer for the first chapter so here goes – anything related to Harry Potter does not belong to me…

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I am aware that I haven't updated in a long time, sorry about that.

The bed in the master's bedroom where her father had died had fresh sheets on and all traces of him were gone from it. Agnes and the other servant girls had taken a long time to air out and change everything so that it was new. Just like the life that Hermione had to start now. She gently pushed the heavy oak door open and peeked inside; Agnes had pushed the shutters wide open to let the air and sunlight in. Ever since Hermione's mother had died, the room had been cold and drab but now the tapestries that hung on the walls and the wood panelling seemed lighter and brighter. The rushes on the floor smelt nice and fresh of rosemary and roses. However, Hermione did not want to go into the room, she was still at it's doorway contemplating whether to go inside or not, imagining her father, ill on the fresh sheets. She shook her head vigorously and a few strands of her curly hair escaped its braid. She shut the door quickly and turned rigidly and walked back to her own room. It had already been two weeks since her father's death – the keep as well as Lord William's other property was looked after by Sir Rodger, and old friend of Sir William's, though it officially belonged to Hermione. She was very wealthy and King Edward was impatiently waiting to marry her off. Hermione however had different ideas. She candidly did not care and worked hours on her herb garden. It was now nice and neat, each type of herb neatly growing in its own little plot. Rosemary, sage, marjoram, mint, dill…also squill, pimpinella, henbane, betony, pennyroyal...a small corner of the garden was devoted to some magical plants which she took care to hide with some bushes of heather.

One bright summer morning, she was bent over the very bush checking on her plants making sure that they received sufficient sunlight, her back bent over and her hair falling down the sides of her face. She smiled in satisfaction at her plants and straightened her back and stretched her arms over her head and sighed. She crouched back down and frowned at a bit of weed growing between her mint plants and reached behind for pincers; instead her hand made contact with soft leather. She yelped and whipped around, at the same time falling on her bottom squashing a good few mint plants. Her hand grasped for her wand as she shielded her eyes with one hand and looked up. Ron stood there, miles above her it seemed. She scowled.

"What are you doing here scaring me like that?"

"Just looking around." He replied nonchalantly, his hand casually brushing the hilt of his sword. Hermione frowned and 'hmph'ed. She rose and smoothed her skirt and dusted her bottom. She looked back and cried in dismay. Three of her mint plants were broken and bent. She huffed angrily, giving a glare to Ron and bent over again tried to stand her plants up. Ron tried not to look concerned but peered at her through the corners of his eyes.

"Would you like some help?" he asked, kicking some earth up with his booted feet.

Hermione glared.

"Aye, just leave." She said bitingly.

He reddened.

"Stop kicking the earth." She said in a reprimanding tone.

Ron ceased.

Hermione was paying no attention to him but kept tutting and frowning.

"Why are you working on this herb garden anyway? What good are these herbs?"

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Are you not leaving?"

Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Herbs are what make your meats tasty. I noticed you especially enjoyed the pheasant yesterday during dinner; this," Hermione brandished a sprig of rosemary in Ron's face, "is what makes the pheasant as tasty as it is. And it is also what cures your pains. " She placed her hands on her hips. "Anything else sir?"

"No madam." He turned and left in huge strides, leaving huge foot prints on the damp earth, his cloak swishing imperiously about his ankles. Hermione was vaguely aware that she may have offended him but shrugged and told herself that she had extra work to get through because of him.

"Agnes, when are these tiresome people leaving? Those men asleep in the great hall among our people…they do not belong here."

Agnes again, was having a battle with Hermione's hair.

"Sweeting, they will leave when there is a new master at Ipswich."

Hermione's head was jerked back when Agnes had reached a particularly stubborn tangle, "Ipswich does not need a master. It has a mistress. Me. Am I not sufficient enough to run the place?"

"Aye my lady, but you do not train the men and you do not protect the village and the lands from outlaws. All you can do is to run the keep."

"Sir Rodger is nice enough…he has known me since I was but a child. But the men he brought with them…"

"They are just men, child. Leave them be."

"One of them, Ronald I think he is, trampled my herb garden and did not even apologise for it. I was outraged. He is so obtuse."

"All men are dears. Now hold still. I think mayhap if I braid your hair tightly it will stop waving about and stay in place."

"Nay Agnes, you have tried that many times but it failed miserably each time. Stop it, you are hurting my scalp!"

Agnes but grunted and continued with her task.

"Mayhap I should go down and talk to the cook. He hasn't told the baker what bread we want tomorrow morning. If I give the men hard floury bread, they might leave."

"They won't. Stop moving for Saint Catherine's sake!"

"I hope that Ethel the cow won't give us any milk tomorrow morn. If the men don't have any milk they might leave. Or," Hermione turned to face Agnes. "I could put a little something into the bread so when the men break their fast they get a nasty little surprise…"

Agnes frowned and cursed but Hermione could see a small smile forming at her lips.

"I wish I was back at school, Agnes. I really do."

"Come now, you really can't be serious? There is no place better than home."

Hermione shrugged and she reached to pull up her cotton shift that had slipped off her shoulders.

"It's very mundane here."

"Don't worry. We'll liven the place up a bit more. Why don't we have a feast in honour of Sir Rodger and his men who have been guarding the keep so excellently?"

"You are asking me to prepare a feast for people who I want to drive out of this place?"

Agnes looked at her in an exasperated way, putting her hands on her hips. "Now Hermione, be agreeable. You are so stubborn sometimes."

When Hermione came down the stairs the next morning, the invaders of her keep were enjoying her bread and her milk; she tried hard not to frown. Her spirits were lifted when Sir Rodger waved to her. She smelled the fresh rushes and nodded, she was running the keep wisely was she not? She sat down on the lady's seat next to the lord's seat, which was empty and poured herself a goblet of Ethel's milk. She wondered when that seat would be occupied again as she tore a little bit of bread and popped it into her mouth. Sir Rodger leaned over,

"Hermione, you are having a visitor to day."

"What visitor?"

"Lord Hurst is coming to visit you with his two sons."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She knew why they were coming but she still felt she needed to clarify that she was perfectly happy living the life she was living now. Well, almost.

"His visit shall be in vain." She said plainly returning to the meal. "Excuse me Sir Rodger, I must instruct cook on how to prepare the midday meal if we are having visitors." She hastily stuffed the rest of the soft bread into her mouth and rose, pushing her stool back with a loud scrape.

"Cook! Alert the baker. We are having visitors today."

Sir Rodger shook his head. The girl was not at all brought up properly. Too headstrong and spoilt in his opinion. But he did like her for it.

"Could you pass the cream?"

Sir Rodger turned and found Ron with a large piece of bread, giving him an enquiring look.

"Stop eating Ronald. At the rate you are going we are going to run out of food and Lady Hermione will have your head."

Ron shrugged and reached for the pot of cream. "She's already made acquaintance with me and I think we shall get along just fine."

"Really?"

"Yes." Said Ron decisively. "I made her fall on her mint plants and she hardly yelled. She had a sweet temperament that girl."

"I can tell you are being sarcastic."

"Well so I made a little blunder. Then she's mad all of a sudden like some fury's gotten into her."

Sir Rodger nodded wryly. "I would be careful were I you."

"Why?"

"You have a way to infuriate women. Even my wife, the sweetest of all females cannot stand you."

"She's a dear."

"Anyhow, I am going out. There is a small hole in the outer wall of the keep that I must see too. And you shall come as well."

"I'll come when I finish breaking my fast."

"You didn't have much of a fast Ronald. You better thank the lord above that Lady Hermione didn't find about your midnight feast."

"Actually, she did." Hermione said walking up behind Ron, he swivelled in his stool. "Cook told me about it." She said curtly. "If you are displeased with the amount of food provided here at Ipswich Castle Sir Ronald, you can leave."

Ron turned beet.

"Now, now Hermione don't be so cruel. He is still a growing boy."

"Sir Rodger, I am going to the loom shed. When our visitors arrive please alert me." With a flick of her braid Hermione walked out of the great hall.

"I told you she was a sweet girl." Ron said as he turned back to his meal.

"I'm sure she'll be nicer…by Saint Michael I hope she does. She's still a little cold after her father's death. It is hard to loose your kin."

Ron nodded wisely.

"Ron pass the cream."

"Harold. Lady Hermione doesn't like it when we eat all her cream. Control yourself man!" Ron said sternly while scooping up a generous helping on to his bread.

A/N: Don't worry more interesting things shall happen later. This is just the beginning so bear with me please!