AN:Okay guys here's the next chapter. Well, I need some advice. Should I concentrate on this first and leave the other story : A father's love , alone for a while cuz to tell you the truth, I am leaning towards that story greatly but I can't help but be fond of this being my first fic. Read and review not only this but the first chappie of the other story. Hahaha...Shameless plugging I know. But come on 3 reviews is rather pathetic isn't it?? Scream! Okay. Well, I'll leave ya'll alone to enjoy the next chapter.
"Antoinette darling...welcome home," Danielle said. Hermione prised opened her eyes and gaped in awe at the splendor and magnificence of her surroundings. They were in a huge room, with a chandelier. She looked up at the ceiling only to nearly faint. There were moving pictures that very much resembled the Sistine chapel.
"Michel Angelo...he painted those..." Hermione murmured forgetting that she wasn't alone. Danielle head shot up to see what her daughter was talking about. "Yes darling. We have no time to lose though...Breakfast will be in an hour. Dress casually. Doreen will take you to your room," she said dismissively as though she had much on her mind and what her daughter thought didn't very much interest her.
At the snap of her fingers, a house elf appeared with a loud crack. Hermione noted that it wasn't dressed in something ragged but in miniature black robe with a strange gold crest on its chest. Hermione observed the crest. It was shaped like a shield with a wand crossing it in front and the letter "G" in elven embossed in the middle.
"Is the elf free...?" Hermione inquired out loud to her mother, wondering if there was hope yet.
"Heavens no. It's their uniform. It is a disgrace to have a free house elf. What does Hogwarts teach you child?" Danielle said not realizing that she was tempting Hermione's anger. "You best leave dear. You only have an hour to get ready," Danielle said before turning on her heels and walking towards the door, her robes following her in a rather Snape-like fashion.
Hermione looked around taking in the imposing room. "Erm... where do we go?" Hermione asked the elf. Instead of uttering a word, it started walking and Hermione deduced that she should follow it.
They walked in an uncomfortable silence, the elf was silent throughout, and pointedly ignoring Hermione's various and multiple attempts at friendship. Hermione decided to shut up after awhile and simply take in her surroundings.
There were many paintings, which had brass name plagues at the bottom and dates dating back to the middle ages. The walls were beautifully wallpapered with classic designs and held a certain antiquity to it. Hermione's eyes widened as she drank in the magnificent place she would now have to call home.
It was not as though she wasn't angry but she was rather caught up in the moment by all the splendor surrounding her that she had momentarily forgotten the rage she felt for her parents.
"Miss Grenaldi, this will be your room," the elf said, though its voice was not squeaky but on a rather low octave. With a wave of its hand, the door flew open to reveal a gorgeous and spacious room within. "If it is not to your liking, Master Grenaldi said to tell them your plans during breakfast and they will hire a professional team to redesign your room," it added with a hint of smugness before turning on its heels and leaving an extremely shocked Hermione behind.
Hermione rushed into her room, her jaw dropped when she realized that it was the most lavish place she had ever been to in her whole life. The first thing she noticed was the sleek black carpeting on the floor. It looked like velvet but was so glossy that Hermione spent a good minute contemplating its material.
The bed was something completely mind-blowing. It was huge; Hermione noticed that about ten people her size could have comfortably slept in it without feeling cramped. She walked over to it and perched on the side, the mattress was soft but at the same time firm. She absent mindedly fingered her quilt that was so soft it felt like feathers itself.
The sheet covering the bed was cream silk. The huge pumped up pillows at the head of the bed were soft to the touch and seemed to contain the sleekest of stuffing. Hermione tore her gaze away from the bed and turned to look at the rest of her room. There was a study table most probably made of the finest wood and embossed with a crest of some sort.
The gentle tinkling and splashing of water reached her ears and Hermione's eyes roved the room for the source of the noise. When she finally sought out the cause of the noise, an involuntary gasp escaped her throat.
There was a miniature waterfall in her room. It was on a rosewood table and the landscape surrounding it was of mountains and there was a river that ended in the waterfall. Hermione stared at it, enthralled at the rainbow of colors reflecting of the obviously magicked surface.
Hermione detected some movement and gaped when she realized that there were miniature people walking around, minding their daily lives.
It was an art piece and at the same time it chilled her, as she knew that nothing could truly be brought to life without the soul of a human to inhabit it. She shook her head, pushing out the dark thoughts and then noticed a door on the wall.
Hermione approached it and threw the door open, half expecting something to jump out at her. It was a closet and Hermione realized that many of her robes and old clothes hung there, most probably having been put up by a house elf.
"Hmm...casually, does that mean jeans?" Hermione wondered aloud as she thumbed through her abysmal amount of clothes. The reason for her to brand her clothes as such was because, in such a huge imposing closet, the clothes hardly took up one tenth of the place. She picked out a pair of jeans and a white button up blouse and brought them out of the closet.
Hoping that it would be casual enough, Hermione pulled off her robes and slipped into the jeans and buttoned up the blouse. She looked in the mirror and realized that her hair was becoming bushier so she pulled it into a simple ponytail.
Deciding that she wouldn't need to put on make up for something casual, Hermione decided that she would just go as she was. Suddenly there was a sharp rapping on her bedroom door.
"Miss Grenaldi. Is you ready for breakfast?" a squeaky voice called. Hermione walked to the door and pulled it open, smiling at the house elf. The elf looked taken aback at her but kept its silence. It motioned for her to follow it and Hermione obliged as it led her down the endless hallways.
Hermione noticed that the house held a certain charm to it but at the same time was shrouded in an aura of darkness. It was as though the mansion was home to numerous dark secrets, swept under the dark and never to be found. On the whole Hermione hated the feeling. She despised the dark arts and she slowly was realizing that her new found family most probably dabbled in it.
"We is here miss. Please come in," the elf announced squeakily. Hermione walked through the huge doors noticing that they were much like the entrance of the dining area which's entrance was a sliding door made of frosted glass. It held the same emblem she had seen in her room.
The house elf disappeared with a loud crack leaving Hermione standing alone in the hallway. Hermione wondered whether to wait or just enter. Throwing caution into the wind, she pushed the sliding door open a crack and edged her way in. If Hermione though that her room was grand, it was nothing compared to what she saw there.
The table that seated 32 took the centre place of a cathedral like room. The walls were made of glass and a large arched door led to what seemed to be a ball room...wait, there was a ballroom. Hermione looked at frosted glass paintings that were scattered around the room. They were moving freely and looked nothing like what she had seen in Hogwarts.
The ceiling was an arch with a huge glass chandelier hanging from the middle of it. The light bouncing off the glass pieces cast the colors of the rainbow to dance across the white marble floor. Hermione gazed through the glass walls in the direction of the ballroom but before she could get a good look, a loud cough caught her attention.
She whipped around only to notice that her father had recently entered the ballroom, wearing a pair of black tailored pants and a silk black shirt. His eyebrows rose when he took in Hermione's 'casual attire' but he decided not to say anything but rather, walked towards a chair and pulled it out looking pointedly at Hermione.
Hermione wondered what he expected her to do. "Do I sit?" she wondered unsure of what to do. It wasn't that she was not mannered, she had grown up knowing her Ps and Qs but this was called high class society, they had a list of rules and mannerisms that Hermione wouldn't even try to understand.
"Why don't you take a seat?" Cameron said after a long silence and after he lost all hope that his daughter might just have manners. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as short lived relief coursed through her veins. She would never admit it to anyone but she was extremely frightened of Mr. Grenaldi.
He was extremely handsome for his age yes but he held a rather eerie aura and Hermione never knew what to expect from him. Predictability in Hermione's books was good, it showed consistency and Hermione hated surprises.
Hermione walked to the chair and stood in front of it. Cameron pushed in the chair, causing Hermione to loose her balance and fall forward putting her hands forward on the tables to prevent herself from hitting the table face first.
Cameron was near snapping at his just found apparently cultureless daughter when his wife's voice wafted through the open sliding door. His head jerked up when he heard her greet a certain Mrs. Finch. It was perfect timing. His daughter obviously needed lessons in poise and manners.
Hermione steadied herself on the chair and wondered what she should do with her hands. Weather to fold them on her lap of let them hand limply. Indecisively, she managed to pull off something in the middle leaving her in a rather awkward position. Mr. Grenaldi, noticing this chose not to say anything but rather, quirked an eyebrow.
Danielle glided into the room with an old rather prim and proper lady trailing after her. The lady's eyes scanned the room and stopped on Hermione, staring intently at her as though assessing her.
"I see that I have much work to do, we will begin after breakfast," she said unsmilingly. Hermione's eyebrows jerked upwards wondering what they had in store for her.
Danielle smiled at her jumpy daughter before sitting down beside Cameron. "Don't worry darling, this is Mrs. Finch, your poise and confidence instructor," Danielle said in a reassuring tone hoping to put her daughter at ease. "Well, let's have breakfast then," Danielle said.
A house elf came out of the side door pushing a silver trolley ahead of it. It held many plates which were levitated in front of everyone. Hermione stared unsurely at the plates wondering if she should start eating.
Cameron picked up a fork and pierced a sausage. After he bit into it, everyone else started eating and conversation picked up as Danielle and Cameron discussed the return of their other two daughters from their private school.
Hermione looked up only to catch the lady staring at her again. She had hazel eyes, devoid of light, somewhat resembling Professor Snape's. Hermione refusing to back down stared back at the woman defiantly. Finally she looked away, Hermione not Mrs. Finch.
She looked at her plate, shuffling the food around mixing the scrambled eggs with the sausages. She wondered what Harry and Ron were doing at the very moment, most probably on a blood lust looking for the person who in their over active imagination had kidnapped Hermione and was holding her for a ransom.
She glanced up only to see Mrs. Finch looking at her in disgust. Realizing that her plate most probably looked like a tsunami had hit it; Hermione wondered what to do to get out of her predicament.
Suddenly, there was a chink of cutlery and Cameron turned towards her, "Is the food not to your liking," he inquired perplexed as to why his daughter was not eating the absolutely scrumptious meal.
"Oh...I'm not hungry..." Hermione said looking very much like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit," Hermione thought to herself, the words forming a mantra in her mind.
"Well, if you are done with your breakfast, may we start," Mrs. Finch announced setting down her cutlery. Hermione nodded tentatively. Cameron rose to pull out Mrs. Finch's chair and when he proceeded to do so for Hermione, Hermione backed up her chair not realizing that he was about to pull it out.
One of the chair legs ended up on his foot but instead of grimacing, he simply held out his hand to help up Hermione who was now in a heap on the ground. Cameron couldn't resist it anymore. He hated his daughter fearing him, as that was only a façade he put up for the public.
As he leaned down to help her up, he whispered a soft, "Take it easy kiddo. Oh and remember casual does not necessarily mean casual." That was when Hermione noticed that her mother was in a two piece pastel yellow blouse and skirt and her father was dressed in what she would consider grand.
The revelation that her father was not a heartless monster came as a shock to Hermione but at the same time, she felt relieved. Cracking a smile, she whispered back, "I'll keep that in mind."
Once Hermione was standing, Danielle and Cameron departed saying that they had matters to attend to leaving Hermione with that stern woman.
Clearing her throat, the woman started. "Well, I'm Mrs. Finch, your poise and confidence instructor. I see that I have my work cut out for me. We best get cracking," she said with a strange Irish lilt.
Hermione nodded awkwardly not knowing what to say. "First lesson, always introduce yourself," Mrs. Finch prompted.
"Oh...er. I'm Hermione Grang- umm...Grenaldi. Though my mother calls me Antoinette...I don't really know about my middle name..." Hermione said stuttering due to her nervousness.
Holding up a hand, Mrs. Finch added, "Lesson number two. Do not prattle on." At that Hermione blushed and an instant dislike for the woman formed in Hermione. She narrowed her eyes and Mrs. Finch trying to show her that Mrs. Finch would not be bossing her around.
"Well, yes. First we have to sort out you horrible posture...hmm, we need some books. Accio books," Mrs. Finch said as though talking to herself. A number of books flew in their direction landing on a neat pile on the table. Mrs. Finch reached for a few and piled them on Hermione's head.
"Now I want you to walk around this room balancing them on your head. Keep your back straight. Don't slouch like some peasant girl." Mrs. Finch instructed as the books landed on Hermione's head.
Hermione tried her best to walk with her back upright and her chin parallel to the ground so as to prevent the books from falling but to no avail. She was too used to slouching under the weight of the books she so often lugged around in Hogwarts. Mrs. Finch gave an exaggerated sigh.
"It isn't that hard girl. Glide, you are weightless. Like a feather, drifting. Close your eyes and envision that, walk, sway your hips gently, look up to face the world. You are radiating beauty and confidence. Believe in yourself," Mrs. Finch said her voice softening.
Hermione forced her eyes shut disregarding how stupid she felt. She wondered why she was being so dormant, instead of fighting for her rights just accepting what was happening. She wanted to do something but at the same time was reluctant to break any connection she might have made with her parents with defiance.
She told herself that she would go to the library to research more on the bond between her and the ferret. Clearing her mind, she let Mrs. Finch's words wash over her, believing them and walking.
"No! No! Don't sway your hips so exaggeratedly, more natural," Mrs. Finch said. Hermione felt her impatience grow. How could they be so superficial to care about what she walked like, wasn't it what her mind held that was of importance?
Hermione was first walking on flat soles and finally got the hand of walking like a lady as Mrs. Finch oh so eloquently put it. Then Mrs. Finch delivered yet another blow. She transfigured a book into a pair of stiletto heels.
Hermione's eyes widened when she looked at them. "Uh...uh I am not wearing those. Those will be the death of me," she insisted backing away from them as though they were deadly.
Mrs. Finch rolled her eyes and with a wave of her wand, caused the shoes to be strapped onto Hermione's feet. Almost at once, Hermione started wobbling in the most comical manner, swaying from one side to another. Then she fell, into a huge heap on the floor.
"Get up! We have no time to waste; we have to cover your posture by today. Move on!" Mrs. Finch said sharply. Hermione bit back the cutting remarks that were at the tip of her tongue. She pushed herself off the floor and walked around the room albeit unsteadily. With Mrs. Finch holding her hands and guiding her, she finally got the hand of it in a few hours.
Hermione managed to walk around the room with grace and poise that although not polished, flaws could not be detected by the untrained eye. "You are a fast learner child but don't let this go into you head. The heels will be attached to your feet from now until you are completely comfortable with them. They will come off a week or so before your wedding.
Hermione gasped. She would have to put up with stilettos for a few weeks non-stop. God save her. "Er...can I go?" Hermione asked, her feet feeling as though they were about to drop off having walked so much in heels.
Mrs. Finch glared at her before saying, "No child, but you may sit, now is time for the lecture. Remember as much as you can. Dinner will be a test."
After waving her wand, Mrs. Finch retreated into the shadows and a screen appeared out of nowhere and a voice started giving out pointers on tableside mannerism. Hermione being the ever diligent student conjured up a quill, a bottle of ink and a scroll and started taking notes.
As the lesson commenced, Hermione took meticulous notes wondering why she was complying so easily. It was as though she wanted to put up no resistance. Shaking the thought out of her head, she turned her attention to the screen as the voice proceeded to tell her what she should do at a formal dinner party.
Finally the video came to an end. In Hermione's opinion, it was rather enlightening as to how she was expected to behave and she realized that she would have to memorize all the French words and their meanings.
"Well, now why don't we go show your mother what you've learnt," Mrs. Finch said, trying to keep the hint of pride out of her voice. Hermione nodded slightly hoping that she would finally get some well deserved rest after the ordeal.
Hermione wobbled alongside Mrs. Finch to the drawing room where Danielle was reading. Clearing her throat to announce their arrival, Mrs. Finch instructed Hermione to walk around the room. Hermione kept in mind everything that she had been taught and steadied herself, walking around the room with as much grace as she could muster.
When she came to a halt, Danielle started clapping. "I'm so proud of you baby. That was a lot of progress to have been made in a day," she praised. Hermione smiled at her mother before saying, "Thank you Mrs. Grenaldi."
At this, Danielle's smile went down a few notches but she picked it up moments later saying, "Antoinette darling, please call me Danielle until you are ready to address me as your mother," coldly. She was hurt that her daughter was not responding to her love with love but rather with indifference.
"Tomorrow we have arranged for a stylist to come see you, he will be doing your hair and picking out a new wardrobe, we can't have you gallivanting around in those rags that you consider clothes. We will be doing the spell to bring you back to your natural form tomorrow morning. Oh yes and Mrs. Finch tomorrow could you got through walking up and down stairs with her? Ah yes that will be all, you may go and do whatever it is that you want to," Danielle said, trying not to show the hurt she felt.
"Who are you to decide what I should do? What if I like the way I look and I don't care how I walk down stairs," Hermione said quietly. She had finally snapped. She had had enough trying her best to be the good daughter and having everyone step all over her.
"I am your mother and your guardian. You will never speak to me like that again," Danielle said her anger evident even in her quiet tone. Her two other daughters daren't speak to her with such insolence. "Your manners are close to barbaric, how can we introduce you to the public in such a state?" Danielle said cruelly, the words meant to cut; deeply.
Hermione simply glared at her, something burning in her to prove herself. "I will be the most elegant, eloquent person you have ever met. Give me a few days," she promised herself, telling herself that she would practice and show this...this woman that she was not barbaric. She would be the talk of the town, known for her beauty, poise, confidence and elegance. All this Hermione promised herself as she walked out of the room, trying to put a lid on her brimming anger and focusing it to the task she had set for herself.
AN:Sorry for the delay ya'll I can't wait for my trip. 10 more days to go!! Whee...