Chapter Five: Much Ado about Nothing
A/N Once again thanks crazy much to all those who reviewed and extra thanks to those who added me to their fav lists!
I'm all out of faith
This is how I feel
I'm cold and I am shamed
Lying naked on the floor
Illusion never changed
Into something real
I'm wide awake
And I can see
The perfect sky is torn
You're a little late
I'm already torn
The girls muttered quietly, their volume slowly increasing as they loitered about in the main corridors.
"Oh no! Absolutely not! That Adonis was far more handsome than Prometheus!"
"Well, I suppose, but I've always preferred darker-haired men."
"Don't get me wrong, that one is to die for…but his eyes, his eyes are just so...so...divine!"
Hermione shuffled her feet a bit, and stopped just behind the two maids, clearing her throat uncomfortably.
The two maids whipped around in haste.
The princess recognized them at one. They were the snobbish two that accompanied Queen Arachne something or another Hermione couldn't recall at the moment.
The two girls shared a quick smirk.
"Princess Artemis!" they bowed down mockingly low.
Hermione frowned at both the name and their exaggerated manners.
"Right, yes, can you tell me where the king and his guests went?"
"West Garden I believe Princess" replied the taller, lankier one.
Her forehead furrowed, "Where's that?"
"Across from the East garden, opposite the lake, simply follow the path from the castle" said the other.
"Alright then, thank you" said the princess. With uncertainty at the word of the two snickering maidens, she slowly turned and left.
A girl giggled soundly from behind her, "what an idiot."
.:.
East gardens west gardens…how many gardens does one guy need?!
The sun had been swallowed whole by the glistening stars sprinkled amongst the blackened skies. The daylight had been long masked by the ominous darkness. A luminous, pale, glowing moon hung full, discreetly watching the world below, revealing the dark and devious secrets of the night.
The crisp night air held warmth with an inconstant breath of chilling wind. Towering trees around danced a graceful promenade to the sound of darkness.
A lost golden-eyed maiden wandered amongst the peacefulness of the gardens. Her breath was taken away as she laid her eyes upon the enchantingly beautiful floral landscape that surrounded her. There were dainty Violets varying in shades of blue; from indigo to azure. Mixed in were crimson shades of blooming Camellias, the purest of white Lilies, the brightest of orange tinted yellow Marigolds and Chrysanthemums in various shades with unusual co-dominant petals. Then finally, appearing vividly, bold and strong, yet gentle and meek, a perfect mixture of both blood red and pearl white roses, illuminated by the iridescent glow of the moon. Its beauty was incomparable. Anything else seemingly withered in comparison. Unmarred and pure.
Perfect.
Hermione reached a hand out to touch the roses, she yearned to run a finger along the soft, velvety petals, but it seemed so wrong, so unholy to touch a thing of such beauty and purity. Her fingers stopped just centimeters away from the blossom. Such beauty she'd never laid eyes on before, it almost hurt to tear her eyes away from a thing of such elegance and splendor.
Her trek continued along the cobbled path. Before her lay a diamond frosted lake. Still and serene, the surface seemed so smooth and untarnished. It would be a sin to tarnish the perfection of the crystalline waters, but nonetheless, she felt a great desire to submerge a single finger and break the translucent liquid crystal.
The princess was spellbound by the sight, possibly even more so than by the roses. Her fiery amber orbs were glued to the scene, but her thoughts wandered a million miles away...
To Harry; the raven-haired boy who still seemed to hold her heart. But he would never love her…at least not the way she loved him. It killed her to think that another was in his arms…another had captured his heart the way he'd captured hers; she'd never be good enough for him. He would never want her. She wasn't pretty like all the other girls, she was different, she was Hermione. Simply Hermione. For six years, she had stood by his side faithfully; she was his shoulder to lean on, to cry on. He thought of her as nothing more than a friend; a sister.
Where had she gone wrong? The thought killed her within, ebbing ceaselessly at her body mind and soul. Hot tears began flowing freely from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks and down her neck. She made no attempt to stop them. Her legs began to weaken, and she collapsed to the ground in a heap. As the minutes passed by, her sobs became increasingly audible. She lay alone on the cold, stone path, torn.
A feather light touch brushed against her, timidly; a pair of strong arms encircled her body from behind. Not giving a care who it might have been, the broken soul turned and sobbed into the stranger's chest. A strange warmth filled her despite the fact her heart was still in chaos. Moments passed, the two stood beneath the moonlight, holding tightly onto one another; clinging on for dear life. The winds brushed past, and the radiance of the moon shone relentlessly. Finally, a familiar male voice broke the silence; a Slytherin voice.
"Pr-princess? Are…you alright?"
Ever so slowly, the forlorn damsel lifted her eyes from his chest and on to the face of her saviour. A soft gasp escaped her lips.
"Blaise?"
The ebony-haired young man stared back at her; a look of confusion strewn across his face.
"Sorry?"
A a slight cringe crossed her face; of course, a familiar face; but a different person…
"Oh, I'm sorry" she apologized. "Who--who are you?" she asked releasing her grip on him.
The boy quickly dropped to one knee and bowed, "Prince Hadrian, heir of King Philippe II, your majesty."
Hadrian…sounds familiar…one of the gods…?
Once more, her forehead furrowed in frustration, she knew this, he was the god of something….
As she looked up into his eyes, they were pierced with a bright, lucid, almost sharp viridian colour. His face was defined handsomely; there was a charming, charismatic appeal to him. A slight reminder of Harry and…someone else she couldn't put her finger on.
"Thank you so much…for…being here" she smiled faintly as a dull pang struck her insides.
The dark-haired boy blushed visibly under the light, and smiled back at her, revealing distinct dimples on his fair-skinned cheeks.
"Any time Princess, anytime."
Hermione reveled in his child-like innocence. He seemed so…pure.
"Please, call me Hermione" she insisted.
The vibrant smile upon his face grew faint, "It'd be an honor to princess, it truly would, but your father, would have my head for it."
A sharp frown crossed her features; Chop off someone's head for calling their daughter by her name?!
"Well, could you at least call me Hermione when he's not around? Hearing princess constantly does get rather tedious" she grinned.
Hadrian nodded and bowed down once more, "It would be my pleasure pri- Hermione."
Hermione couldn't help but feel her heart swell at the sight of the young man.
He was her Prince Charming.
.:.
The minutes seemed to drag on endlessly. Like someone had used a time-turner over and over again, just to annoy the Slytherin Prince. But what irritated him most, was how the Contessa flirted shamelessly with the King. She may not have been his real mother, but it still gnawed at him incessantly; like an itch he could never scratch. His "mother" was an enticing, alluring woman, not a day older than 30, whilst the queen looked worn, weary, and pounds overweight. She wasn't hideous, but she certainly incomparable to the lively Countess.
Draco had regretted leaving the immediately as soon as he'd returned to the dining hall. Boredom swallowed him whole as he listened to the monotonous voices rambling on about property, treaties, scandals beyond the castle walls and what not. It was like being at one of Lucius' deatheater conferences. He was there to be seen, not heard. That was how it always was with his father, he wondered if the man had any purpose for him other than appearances. He felt used. But it would never matter. He had one purpose to his existence, and only one. His desires meant as little as the dirt on his father's custom designed shoes. That was the way he'd been raised. Never hope, never wish, wishing brought you nothing but pain; never care; caring was for the weak, why show compassion when you recieved nothing in return? Never love. Love did not exist; it was a creation of muggles; to make others trust in you, to make you feel good. It was a display of weakness, a way for your enemies to hurt you, to destroy you wholly. Only fools needed love, only fools loved, and he Draco Valerian Malfoy was anything but.
Heartless. A heartless bastard was how he was to be described. Cold, callous, merciless. He felt nothing. But when he did, he never let it be known; not publicly. His heart was made of stone--of ice. He'd never known love-- any love, and he would never need to.
Despite that, he couldn't help but be drawn to the beauty of the dark-haired temptress before him. She looked so elegant, but in a dark way. It intrigued him greatly.
They'd been wandering through the gardens for what seemed to have been hours. The gardens seemed never ending; miles and miles of multihued flora. At first it'd been somewhat interesting, but one could only take so much of the mindless vegetation-watching. It made him sick.
But it also reminded Draco of himself. The flowers, it's only purpose in life was to be admired, to be looked at; for display. You couldn't do much more with them.
A quiet shuffling of leaves followed by loud panting broke through his state of mind.
"Your-your majesty" a short, scrawny man came dashing up to the king, brushing rudely past Draco. He stopped before the king and stooped down low.
"Yes Ares, what is it you need?" snapped the king, obviously displeased at having to draw his attention away from the Contessa. The Queen on the other hand looked rather relieved, welcoming the intrusion of the courtier.
Draco looked down upon the man with a nonchalant expression; he immediately knew this was not a man to be trusted. His eyes were beady and his skin was sallow. You could visibly see his bone structure which protruded from his skin. He looked as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Then there was the look upon his face, similar to that of the conniving rat, Peter Pettigrew, the one who had wormed his way back into the Dark Lord's inner circle. A permanent sneer was embedded into his features. It made one long to spit disgustedly into his face. His feeble existence made one sick.
"Your majesty, King Philippe has arrived with his family; they await you in the grand hall," Ares informed him.
The king made no attempt to conceal his displeasure. It had completely slipped his mind that he would be playing host to the King of Spain whilst he visited the country.
"Dear Contessa, my sincere apologies for cutting this evening short-" short? Draco almost laughed at this, "but I have some business to tend to, please, stay a while and enjoy yourselves, the servants are at your disposal my fair lady. Let my daughters show you around" said the King. At this, he truly did look sorry.
Countess Kallianeira curtsied briefly before she replied, "Do not apologize your majesty, it is your duty, thank you for this lovely evening."
The king gave her a hearty smile and headed back to the castle with the queen at his side. As she passed, Queen Arachne shot an unmistakable glare at the Contessa. Kallianeira simply smiled politely.
"Well then," began Thaleia fluttering her long black lashes, "shall we continue our tour of the gardens?"
The countess nodded, and they began once more.
Draco could have screamed.
I've got to get out of here
He strayed back as his tour group went ahead, twisting and turning through the endless garden.
Leaping over hedges and traipsing through beds of petunias and dahlias, he ran, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
Draco pressed his back to a large tree trunk and panted lightly, listening hard for any sign of life. Feeling heated, he carefully took off his vest and began to unbutton his shirt. He let out an intense breath as he felt an icy blanket caress his firm body. Aside from the infrequent breaths of wind, it was silent. The sanctity of the night consumed him. He felt, for once in his life, free.
And it felt good.
Although Lucius had drilled his theories and propagandas into his mind, a part of him; a very small part of him did not believe any of what he was taught. It seemed so…silly. That was the only logical untarnished part of him, and it was never let out. Ever. That same part of him wanted to know what it felt to love, to feel the good. To trust.
There wasn't a doubt in his mind that his father had molded his son into a younger replica of himself. But if he really was a duplicate of the older Malfoy, then did that mean Lucius had secret desires like he did? Did Lucius want to love? To be loved? It'd been a day after his 9th birthday when he realized the inevitable, his father did not love his mother, nor did he ever. In a way, she was the same as Draco, to be seen and not heard, like a porcelain doll to be put on display for the world to see. If his mother in any was disagreed with her role, she never revealed it. Just like Draco. Lucius Malfoy was a dictator. Like a wizard version of Hitler.
Time stopped for no one; and Draco Malfoy was no exception. The moon suddenly disappeared behind a cluster of dark clouds that had appeared from no where as he reveled in his new found freedom for just a minute longer before falling back down to reality. He couldn't stay here forever; he'd have to go back someday.
Wouldn't he?
.:.
The perfection of the waters shattered as the princess submerged a single toe. Its effect was instantaneous, sending ripples throughout the entire lake. It shimmered like diamonds under the light of the blissful moon. A second wave of ripples shot through the sheet of diamonds as she sunk in her other foot. Even the coolness of the lake seemed perfect.
The prince watched intently at the way her eyes seemed to glimmer beneath the moonlight. She looked like an angel with the exception of her flushed, tear-stained cheeks. He pondered at what could have made her tears flow so steadily down her soft, peach-pink complexion; but it would only serve to remind her of the pain if he asked. Thus, he kept silent as she now seemed to be feeling more content.
She turned to him, finally taken notice of his intense gaze. With her shimmering light-brown orbs, she cocked her head and asked, "What?"
Such a simple question, but he couldn't find an answer. Hadrian ran his fingers through his dark hair looking thoughtful.
"Hermione, like…Hera…The most beautiful Olympian, the queen of the Goddesses" he whispered, "a name so befitting of you."
It was Hermione's turn to blush now. Her cheeks flushed even redder and she glanced back down to the crystal waters in order to hide her embarrassment.
Gently, he placed his hand upon her face, drawing her nearer to him. Her heart began to pound inside her chest; she could feel the warmth of his hand upon her skin. With his other hand, he brushed aside her soft brown hair and met her eyes. She was at that moment, captured. His lucid aquamarine eyes seemed to ensnare hers, like the devil's snare, but in a good way. As he leaned forward to close the distance between them, he spoke softly into her ear.
"You're beautiful."
Then, without another word, he met his lips with her own.
It was nothing like she'd ever imagined. His lips were cold, hard and smooth--like marble. It felt…wrong. Even the heavens seemed to agree with her. The skies had darkened considerably as the moon became hidden by a mass of dark, ominous clouds. The winds suddenly picked up, chilling her inner core.
Hermione drew back from the kiss leaving the young man with an astonished look upon his face.
"I'm, I'm sorry; it's late, I've got to go back to the castle." She stuttered avoiding his alluring eyes, then picked up her slippers and hurriedly sprinted back into the castle; her heart pounding violently.
What had gone wrong? Why did she pull back? He seemed so perfect. He was her prince charming, so why did it feel so wrong? The moment their lips met, her heart began to scream, it was like nothing she'd ever felt before. Hermione had no idea what had happened. The only thing that she felt certain of…was that it was wrong; so very wrong.
When I'm alone I
Feel so much better
And when I'm around you
I don't feel
Together
It doesn't feel right at all
.:.
Once more, she reached her sleeping chambers and collapsed upon her queen sized bed feeling breathless.
What did I just do…
The moon had reappeared, and the clouds seemed to have disappeared. The curtains of her windows had been drawn open revealing several windows and a door within her room. The light shone vividly through the terrace doors and fell upon her figure as if putting her in the spotlight.
Suddenly, the moonlight vanished. She assumed it had been covered by the clouds yet again. Rolling over to her side, she paused to let out a soft yawn, only to find that a hand had been clasped over her mouth, and another held her down.
A dark figure loomed above her, a man.
Hadrian! Oh no!
She squirmed and jerked back from him.
"What-what do you want?' she whispered throatily as a feeling terror washed over her.
"Not so loud, Granger" a familiar voice hissed, "I don't want anyone finding out I'm here."
Granger?
"Malfoy!" she gasped as a feeling of relief came over her.
"Yes, the one and only, who else could it be" he replied, letting her go.
"Hadr-, oh, no one...I just thought…never mind" she paused looking up at him. Draco had turned his back on her and faced the open doors.
She could see his profile illuminated by the radiance of the moonlight. He stood firmly staring out into the darkness in deep thought. His pale skin seemed to glow beneath the moon; it was nothing like Hadrian's. Watching contentedly as he, himself seemed to be emitting light, Hermione's eyes drifted down his body. His shirt was unbuttoned. She could see his firm muscles, when the wind blew past. Unconsciously licking her lips, she was so entranced, she hadn't even noticed when he'd turned around and faced her.
A small smirk crept on to his face as he watched the beautiful Mudblood gazing at his body so intensely.
"Like what you see?" he drawled slyly.
Hermione's blush returned; she was speechless.
"Perhaps you'd like me to strip for you?" he teased, and began to take off his shirt in a seductive manner.
She let out a small squeal as he threw his shirt at her, "Malfoy! What are you doing!?"
"You seem to be enjoying it" he grinned, thriving in her embarrassment. Slowly he began to loosen the ties on his pants.
At this, she began to shriek, "Malfoy no!!" She buried her face in his shirt and turned her back on him, edging closer to the back of her bed.
It amused him greatly to see her in such an awkward situation.
His mind seemed to ignore the fact that this was Hermione Granger he was enjoying himself with. He just had to go a bit further, "and now, my pants are off."
A muffled yelp came from her as she buried her head beneath the covers.
Draco chuckled, "And now, I'm taking off my underpants," he quickly threw his vest at her.
"Malfoy!" she whimpered, "Put your bloody clothes back on!"
"Tisk, tisk, is the perfect little Gryffindor cussing?" he scolded her in a mocking tone, wagging his index finger at her.
More muffled words came from her as she pulled a pillow over her sheets above her head.
Carefully, he climbed upon her bed, and began to uncover her head which was buried deep beneath the covers.
She fidgeted uncontrollably as he pried his shirt away from her face.
Her eyes were shut tight. "Open your eyes Granger, you know you want to" he whispered into her ear.
She shook her head violently. Feeling mortified she blindly backed up against the headboard.
"Come on Granger, don't fight it anymore." Draco took her hand and pressed it against his bare chest.
Hermione squealed softly and retracted her arm.
Draco couldn't take it anymore and burst out laughing, her discomfort was absolutely hilarious.
"What's so funny!" she demanded with her eyes shut.
The blond boy's laughter died down slowly and he replied, "Open your eyes and take a look, I'm not hideous you know."
Oh my goshhhh he's naked….you can't open your eyes!
He can't really be naked can he?
You won't know unless you take a look
Hermione squirmed uncomfortably debating whether to open her eyes or not. Then finally, her curiosity got the better of her, and she opened her eyes a crack.
He wasn't naked
Told you so
Shut up
Opening her eyes fully, she let out a sigh of relief (or perhaps disappointment?).
"You prat!" she cried, throwing a pillow at his head.
"Hey! You looked! I might really have been naked you know!" he exclaimed and threw the pillow back at her.
Hermione ducked and cast a haughty look towards him, "even if I did I'm sure there wouldn't have been much to see anyway."
A blow to his ego, Hermione did an impression of him and smirked.
Draco looked highly offended, "Well, that's for me to know and you to find out then isn't it?"
The princess rolled her eyes and hit him right in the chest with one of her silk covered pillows.
Draco's hand flew up to his forehead in mock distress "that was unsportsman-like conduct! Penalty to the Gryffindor beater!" he announced.
Hermione giggled and attacked him with another pillow.
His gray eyes widened and his jaw dropped in shock, "You're playing like a Slytherin!"
"Nuh uh, Slytherins aren't nearly as good as Gryffindors" she grinned.
His eyes shimmered, mirroring the enchanting lake beyond her walls. They were alluring like Hadrian's, but in a more…captivating…sexy…mysterious way.
"Oh yea? We'll see about that Miss. I'm- a- perfect- Gryffindor-in-everyway" and with that, he tackled her down, tickling her till she couldn't breathe.
Hermione shrieked and collapsed back onto her bed as he attacked her, "o-k, okay Mal-foy, you-you w-wi-win" she gasped.
But he didn't stop, "You know what I want to hear Granger" he taunted in a sing-song voice.
Her amber eyes flashed, "No! I w-won't say it!" she protested, fighting for air.
Draco stopped for a moment to let her regain her breath and looked at her crossly, "Fine."
Hermione stared at him incredulously. Giving up so easily?
His eyes held a mischievous glint, "I'll just have to tickle it out of you!"
Hermione shrieked and tried to get away, but his seeker reflexes were too quick. He began to attack her with tickles once more.
"Malfoy!" she whined trying desperately to escape from his fingers.
"Come one Granger, just say it and it'll all be over with" he bantered.
"F-Fine, Sly-slyther-ins, a-are the-the b-best" she gasped between giggles.
"And…?" he continued in a teasing tone.
"An-and, I'm s-sure you-h-have a-a-lot t-to see" she finished, panting breathlessly as he stopped.
"Told you so" he smirked crossing his arms victoriously.
Hermione pouted beneath him and stuck her tongue out.
"You are so mature, your highness" the platinum haired boy sneered playfully and collapsed onto the bed next to her.
"I know I am" she replied, and rolled to her side to face him.
Draco almost lost it right there and then. Her eyes, her toffee eyes, they seemed to sparkle relentlessly even in the dark. Her hair was in disarray with strands placed seemingly meticulously along her face. Her soft, pink cheeks glowed with radiance; every part of her seemed angelic. He felt so content just looking at her.
Stop it Draco, stop staring at her
He opened his mouth to speak, but a well-timed knock at the door interrupted him.
Hermione gasped and shot up from the bed.
"Princess? Are you in there?" came the voice.
"Um, yes, one moment please" she replied hastily.
Draco leaped off her bed and looked for a place to hide.
Frantically, Hermione tried to straighten her appearance and pointed to her closet. Draco protested for a moment, but soon surrendered and dashed in.
The door opened, and not a moment too soon.
"Princess?"
Hermione whipped around, it was Hestia.
"H-Hestia, how can I help you?" she asked hoping she didn't look like too much of a mess.
Draco gasped silently as he peered through the crack of the closet door.
Pansy?!
The girl smiled, "I've drawn out your evening bath miss."
"Ah, oh um, thank you" she replied.
"Which nightgown would you like to wear tonight?" asked the handmaid heading towards her wardrobe.
Her toffee eyes widened as she searched her mind for a way to stop her.
"Um-WAIT!" Hermione cried and stumbled in front of her wardrobe, blocking the girl's way.
Hestia raised an eyebrow.
"Um…can...can…can you try and find some of that soap…that smells like…oranges?" she invented pathetically trying to stall.
"Alright, then, I don't know if we have any, but I'll check…"the maiden replied, and left the room.
Hermione ran over to the door and shut it.
"Pansy?" he cried in amazement as he stepped out from the closet.
She leaned against the door, and nodded, "Now get out! Before she comes back! If my father finds out he'll have your head!"
Draco chuckled, "You heard about the head stuff too?"
Hermione grinned, "Shoo!" she commanded, motioning her hands out the door.
"But I have to talk to you!" he protested.
Footsteps neared the door, Hermione panicked, "Meet me by the lake in the gardens tomorrow, say…after lunch?"
Draco mutely nodded and dashed out the terrace doors.
"Night princess, Sweet dreams" he whispered bowing low and mockingly as he climbed out the way he entered.
Hermione's already present grin widened and she waved before quickly shutting the doors. Exhaling a deep sigh of relief, she collapsed onto her bed for the 4th time that night.
Good night, Draco Malfoy.
My favorite chapter! Song by Natalie Imbruglia: Torn (another one of my fav songs!) And then the other one's by the one and only Avril Lavigne: Together
oh yea! BLAISE IS A GUY AND DRACOS EYES ARE GREY/SILVER WHATEVER, NOT BLUE
just thought I'd point that out!
REVIEW! CC welcomed :) Thanks for reading!
