The Heiress

Chapter 3

By Sweet Audrina, or fuchsiasteerpike, depending on which site you look at.

"Neville! What on earth are you doing here?" Hermione asked, recognizing at least one of her suitors. There were four others, all seeming to be displeased at the other's presence. Each of them apparently thought that they had the original idea of showing up as soon as the newspaper came out.

"I'm sorry Hermione, Gran made me come to court you...please don't think I'm a gold-digger like the rest of these blokes!"

"Hey!" Cried an incensed suitor.

"It's okay, Neville, sit down for some breakfast," Harry invited. Neville sat down, as well as the four others.

"Oy! We didn't say YOU could sit down," Ron pointed out, threateningly. The four suitors abruptly stood up.

"Ron! Don't be rude. What are your names?" Hermione inquired.

"Walter Higgins, 'Merlin's Wizarding Academy for Juvenile Delinquent Boys'," replied the suitor with the large build, closely shaven brown hair, and grey eyes. Ron shook his head in disapproval.

"Atticus Liversmooter, 'The New York City Wizarding and Performance Arts Academy'," replied the short, scrawny suitor with the long blonde hair and soulful brown eyes. His voice struck Ron as effeminate, and the fact that he was an american made Ron, Harry, and Neville cringe.

"Ashley Jenkins 'Durmstrang Academy'," replied the inhumanly tall suitor with shocking blue hair and hazel eyes. Ron didn't like the way he dressed, or his strange hair, Harry and Neville silently concured.

"Nicholas Foxworth Hartley...I acquired a home education from a staff of seven of the best minds in all of the wizarding world. My parents thought that academies were run poorly, and that they would give me a poor character." This suitor had a way about him that rivaled the ridiculousness of Draco Malfoy, and features that were soft and pudgy. His eyes were small, as were his hands. He appeared to be an inch or two shorter than Hermione. The jury's verdict was very negative towards him.

"Well...boys...I don't think I need to be courted today...leave your addresses with Mr. Caldwell and I will try to get back to you."

"Or maybe you could just not give out your address and skip to the part where you never hear from Hermione again," Ron suggested.

"Now see here..." Nicholas was having none of Ron's coldness.

"Ron is just unfriendly, boys. Now I trust you will all be on your merry way..."

"Actually, it is customary and traditional that the object of a suitor's attention invites them to stay at their home, since perhaps they have traveled very far, and need a place to stay," Nicholas interjected. The four others nodded in agreement.

"Neville can stay...the rest of you can just bugger off," Ron replied.

"No, Ron...if they have traveled far, they must stay and rest for as long as they see fit. This place has plenty of room, and I don't want them to think I am ungrateful for their attentions to me."

"To your money more like. Why don't they try the floo network?"

"Because we came here in carriages, and we can't leave them behind," said Ashley.

"That's true, and I repeat my invitation for you gentlemen to make yourself comfortable for as long as you see fit."

"Now you've done it..." Ron moaned.

"What?"

"If you invite suitors to stay until they are comfortable, and their are more than one, they are obligated to stay until you are engaged."

Harry and Hermione shared a collective gasp.

"That's not how we do it in the muggle world," Harry stated.

"Ah yes, but we take courting very serious in the wizarding world...you court with marriage in mind, and nothing else."

"That's completely archaic!" Hermione cried.

"Maybe so, but we can't leave now...not even if we wanted to," said Atticus.

Hermione failed to see how her situation could get any worse, and opted to go for a walk.

She took the pathway that led to a small wooded area to the side of the manor. It appeared to her, that her suitors would be staying for a VERY long time, because she had absolutely no intentions on being engaged. It was all very perplexing, these stupid traditions that the wizarding world refused to get rid of. She pondered and pondered on the darkness of her situation, until a rustling in the leaves pulled her out of her reverie. In the middle of the path, there appeared to be a very dirty small girl.

She appeared to be at least four years old, with a tangled mass of dark hair, a smudged pale face with large dark eyes, and a slender frame that was clad in a very soiled and torn play-dress. There was something about her features, including her somewhat defined nose that struck Hermione as familiar.

"Hello darling, where do you come from?"

"The big house," the girl replied, without a hint of shyness.

"The Snape house?" Hermione asked, quite surprised.

"That's my house, but I'm not going to live in it, I'm going to live in the forest with the faeries."

"Are your parents servants?" The child seemed insulted.

"I'm not a house-elf! My mama was mean, so her bad heart struck her down, so it's just me and my papa, but he doesn't like me."

"Are you a Snape?"

"I'm Justine Alice Snape, after my mama. My papa's name is Sev'res."

"Severus Snape is your father? I know him well, he used to be my teacher."

"He doesn't know I'm gone I bet, and I've been gone a real long time. Like two hours."

Hermione saw her task at hand.

"Two hours? He must be worried to death about you, darling."

"No."

"Indeed he must be. I know I would miss you terribly if you were mine." Justine perked up at that remark, and smiled up at Hermione. She had a charming smile, despite her two missing teeth in the front of her mouth.

"I'm afraid we must return you to your papa before you starve to death. The faeries won't feed you, and I don't think you know what can be eaten and what can't in the forest."

"Yes I do! Ibsen told me."

"Who's Ibsen?"

"My house-elf. I miss him."

"Well, then I will return you to him...come along." Hermione extended her clean hand towards Justine's grubby one. Justine hesitantly took it, and the pair headed off to Snape manor.

Hermione and Justine entered Severus's home, after being ushered in by a house-elf that Justine informed was not Ibsen, but Mitzy, and Justine hated her because she was the elf that enforced the one bath before bedtime rule. Hermione noted that for a brief moment Severus appeared to be frantic before he entered the main hall. He reverted to his normal stern expression as he looked down at his daughter. She hid behind Hermione.

"Thank you for retrieving my daughter, Miss Granger. Please excuse her appearance, as she is not in the habit of taking care of it."

"She's only a child, it's natural for her to want to be wild and unruly."

"Not my child. Mitzy, take Justine to her room and give her a good cleaning, although that grime will probably cling for a week." Justine glanced at Hermione sadly as the elf led her away.

"I did not know you had a child, or a wife."

"The latter is three years dead, and Justine is a nuisance."

"I think she's absolutely charming."

"Her governesses would disagree."

"And what is your opinion?"

"I gave you my opinion."

Hermione sighed, and glanced at the floor.

"She's welcome to my home any time she wants, I'd like company other than rowdy young men and gold-digging suitors."

"I saw them arrive, I'm very sorry for that. Be comforted in the fact that they will leave."

"No they won't."

"Pardon?"

"I accidently invited them to stay until I become engaged."

"Ah, quite the misfortune. I should know, that's how I got saddled with Justine's mother."

End of Chapter.