Chapter Seven: Contemplations of a Little Thing Called Love
Thanks crazy much for all the reviews! Lol SO made my day! (Sounds pathetic but hey I love em!) You should already know that Draco was originally a hottie! (Tom Felton..hey isn't it cool he blogs? Dedicated to his ever-loving fans!) This is revised not really but kinda tiny tiny tiny mistake that drove me NUTS so i had to change it
From the moment that you go
The world turns dark and it feels so cold
From the second you leave
I know there's nothing left for me
I don't know how I'll get through
There's nothing in this world i can do
Except lie here
'cause it's true
No matter what I want to prove
I'm missin' you
All was silent, unspoken words echoed noiselessly throughout the infirmary. It'd long been emptied of all but a few students. Three male figures sat motionless alongside the bed occupied by the Gryffindor Golden girl.
The bed next to hers held a pallid skinned boy, equally motionless, but far more lonely beyond what words could describe. Shelves and tables against the wall were overflowing with various sweets and chocolates from Honeydukes, numerous bouquets of flowers both muggle and magical and uncountable cards with well wishings from admirers young and old all around.
He was both feared and admired even in his death-like state, but never loved….truly loved. It was something he'd never felt, never experienced. Not from him mother, not from his father, not from his friends. He'd never known love. But how was he to know what being loved was like if he'd never felt it? What if one day, he fell in love? Would he know it.? …. Would he ever?
After hours of unsettling silence, Neville finally spoke up.
"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry" he whispered, feeling sincerely regretful and bowed his head.
Harry turned his head to face his friend, still tightly grasping Hermione's ice cold hand.
"It wasn't your fault, you didn't do it on purpose…" he sighed.
Ron nodded his head somberly in agreement.
Neville's eyes began to water, but he forcefully held his tears back.
"I would do anything to get her back you know," he said, resting his hand upon the lifeless girl's shoulder.
Harry bowed his head.
"We all would Neville…we all would" he repeated firmly yet without emotion.
More silence filled the room.
Ron suddenly looked up and turned to Harry.
"Ay... mate….doesn't it bother your girl that you're spending so much time with Hermione?" he asked.
The raven-haired boy simply shrugged, and replied, "She understands that Hermione's like the sister I never had."
Harry wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but he could've sworn he felt Hermione's hand tighten around his for a moment.
"Oh, well…that's…good I suppose" said Ron, faintly wrinkling his nose.
A bell rang from somewhere in the room signaling the arrival of 8:00pm.
"Oi, it's 8, I've got to go, Snape set me up as a mentor to one of his potions students…punishment…" Harry muttered. He quickly scrambled back upon his feet, and gave Hermione a light peck on the cheek before dashing out the door.
.:.
The fiery red haired Gryffindor lay solemnly upon her stomach within her four poster bed. Her legs bobbed up and down as she gazed fixedly upon a photograph of a handsome dark-haired boy. The same boy that made her heart beat 20 times faster, the same boy whom she'd fallen desperately in love with, the same boy…who barely acknowledged her existence.
Oh I love him I love him I love him I love him so muchhhh!
Tenderly, she ran her index finger around the outline of his figure. He looked back up at her with the curious expression she loved seeing before turning back to his friends, talking animatedly, but inaudibly. Even in his ordinary, midnight black school robes, he looked devastating. She'd have to remember to thank Colin for taking it. How she had ever fallen for a boy like him was beyond her knowledge. She didn't know why or how…all she knew was that she loved him. Her infatuation had begun the day she'd blown up her cauldron in potions. The permanent dye concoction had spewed out in very direction possible, colouring everything within 10 meters of her a bright orange. Sure she'd gotten 30 points taken off, and a weeks worth of detentions, but it was all worth it…her poor potions skills she owed everything to them. She was like a female Neville; except that she thrived upon her lack of potions skills. After the disastrous incident that happened to be the last straw for the potions master, Professor Snape had assigned her to a 6th year tutor for 1.5 hours every day for the rest of the year.
Him…
Of all the 6th years…she'd gotten him. Lady Luck was definitely on her side.
A calm, familiar voice broke through her thoughts, "Stare any longer and you'll burn a gaping hole through the photo, Ginny."
Whipping around, Ginny held the photograph protectively against her chest to face the short, strawberry-blonde haired Gryffindor.
"Natalie!" she cried in surprise. Her cheeks immediately began to blend into her hair.
Natalie MacDonald quirked the corners of her thin, gloss smothered lips and raised an eyebrow.
"Older man eh? Didn't know you were into anyone…didn't you just break up with whatshisface…Mitchell Corner?" she asked inquisitively as she casually sat down at the end of Ginnys bed.
Shrugging slightly, the red-head nonchalantly slipped the picture back into her robes.
"That was ages ago actually. And it's Michael" she corrected.
The blonde fluttered her lashes, revealing sparkly pink eye shadow, "My bad…anyway, have you talked to him yet?"
"Michael? Sometimes." Ginny replied trying to avoid who she was really talking about.
Natalie rolled her bright hazel eyes, "No I mean your dream boy silly!" she exclaimed gesturing towards the redhead's robes.
Ginny's blush deepened, "Yes…he's my potions tutor. I'm meeting him in about an hour." She muttered.
"Awww! Dating already?!" she cooed.
"I wish…it's just tutoring unfortunately." Said Ginny, "Better than nothing though I suppose."
"Does he know that you like him?" Natalie squealed excitedly.
Ginny shook her head, and shifted her position upright.
"Tell him then! Otherwise he'll never know and you'll never get a chance!" cried Natalie incredulously.
Ginny furrowed her brow and shook her head furiously, "I can't tell him!" she squeaked.
The blonde haired girl crossed her arms and frowned, "You HAVE to! If you don't, someone else might go after him and get him!"
Sighing, Ginny reached for her pillow and began to smack her head with it.
"I know…but I'm just so…afraid…"she confessed.
Rejection. Every girl's worst fear. And Ginny Weasley was no exception. It wasn't that she'd ever officially been turned down by anyone…but the thought still scared her. She didn't want her heart broken.
"I know how you feel; maybe you can ease it into him. You have to go for him if you want him" said Natalie wisely, "Or…you could hint to him…"
Ginny looked up from her pillow intrigued.
"How?" she asked.
Natalie grinned mischievously, and began to rifled through her school bag. Finally, after a few moments of rustling various things, she brought out a stack of multi- coloured memos.
"With these!" she said proudly handing them to Ginny.
The youngest Weasley looked up at her friend as if she had gone nuts.
"With colourful paper?" she said dubiously raising her eyebrows.
Natalie drew back affronted, "No!" she exclaimed. "Not just any paper, it's an airplane memo."
"A what?" asked Ginny, picking up a sheet and examining it.
"It's the stuff they use in the Ministry of Magic. Memos." Natalie explained, "Here, I'll show you."
Carefully, she picked up a bright orange sheet, and wrote down Ginny's name. Then, taking out her wand, she tapped it twice, and the paper began to fashion itself into the shape of an airplane. Natalie excitedly leapt of the bed, and launched the plane. It made a circle around the bed, and finally, landed in Ginny's lap.
"Neat" Ginny grinned, picking up the plane. "Where'd you get it?"
Natalie suddenly looked grave." My uncle Broderick…. He's an unspeakable at the Ministry…or…was.." she said sadly.
"Broderick Bode?" said Ginny surprised.
Natalie nodded.
"I saw him at the hospital…the…Devil's Snare incident?" said Ginny, trying to remember.
She nodded once more.
"I'm sorry…about him" said the girl sincerely.
Natalie shook her head, "Don't be, it's okay…and don't change the subject!" she said in an attempt to sound cheerful.
Ginny grinned, and snatched a bottle of rainbow coloured ink from her desk. "Alright then, how do I start this love letter…."
.:.
"Hadrian, tell me, how are you enjoying your stay?" asked the King conversationally.
Hastily, the dark haired boy swallowed the contents of his mouth and replied with uttermost respect, "It's been wonderful your highness, thank you."
The king chuckled heartily and took another deep swig of his red wine.
"Excellent my dear boy, excellent."
Hermione struggled uncomfortably in her cushioned seat. After every meal, her corset seemed to shrink a size smaller. Every morning, she'd tried to avoid having the wear the blasted contraption. But every morning, her maid always found a way around her devious little ploys. Like that morning, she'd woken up an hour earlier and chucked every corset she could find out the window. Somehow, Hestia had come up with dozens more which were equally as uncomfortable as the last batch.
Speaking of that morning, when she'd awoken, her eyes fell upon a single ivory white lily atop her bedside table. Who could possibly have left it there?
"Soup spoon…no…wait. This isn't it…"
Curse all these different utensils!
Frustrated, the princess picked up the largest spoon and began to shovel down her Poire Belle-Hélène. It was absolutely unimaginably scrumptious. Bitter sweet chocolate and tangy pear slices that melted in her mouth. The only time Hermione had ever neaten something so rich was when she'd visited France back in the summer before her 3rd year. It was a remarkable nation with a great deal to see and experience. Everything had been extraordinary, but her favourite part of France, was undoubtedly, the language. It was both romantic and distinctive, intriguing her to the point that she'd taken up a French course during the summer. Her French had greatly improved.
Suddenly, the king arose from his seat at the head of the table, and called for the family and guests' undivided attention.
"As you all know, my Princess Artemis, is finally of suitable marriage age," he began. A small applause broke out. Hermione's ever changing toffee-brown eyes widened in horror at his words.
"And so," he continued, "I shall be hosting 3 balls in honour of her, the last being on Halloween where the princess shall be acquainted with various suitors; one of whom shall win her hand in marriage. I've already sent out the invitations and I sincerely hope that you will all be able to attend" he finished with a wide toothy grin and a brilliantly flushed visage from the copious amounts of wine he had consumed.
Once again, the table broke out in applause, this time, far louder and all turned to a petrified looking Hermione Granger.
Marrying age?! BLOODY MERLIN I'M 16!
All eyes were glued to her; waiting for a reaction.
And finally, after finding her voice, she spoke timidly, "What if I don't meet anyone suitable?"
The paternal air around the king vanished, and his eye's narrowed a fraction, but he laughed, hollowly, "then my dear, you shall be betrothed to Prince Hadrian."
At this, the princess' jaw dropped down meter, but the solid expression of the Spanish prince did not change one bit.
She couldn't marry him! But…why not? He was definitely not horrible…and he certainly was handsome….and caring…but something….just wasn't right. He was ….too perfect.
Invidia shot an unwarranted icy glare from the opposite side, but Hermione was still frozen in her state of shock and couldn't respond. Her head span nauseatingly and her dinner nearly came gushing back out.
Oh Merlin…I'm going to be sick…
.:.
Draco stubbornly crossed his arms and bluntly refused.
"I'm not going."
Contessa Kallianeira looked up at her son with an expression of mild surprise.
"But why not? Most young men would kill for an opportunity to try and win the fair princess' heart" she said primly dabbing at the corners of her mouth with the rose coloured napkin.
The family had just finished their dinner that night when their mother had brought up the subject of King Titan's ball invitation that they'd received weeks ago. Draco had refused right off the bat. It'd been ages since he'd both seen and spoken to the Mudblood and it didn't bother him one bit. Or so he told himself. His life here with the Malfoy family had been terribly mundane with the obvious exception of his dueling and riding lessons. Sure the Mudblood was a pain in the arse, but at least she was interesting. Albeit he would never admit this to himself. He still hadn't forgiven her for the lake stunt she'd pulled, and his head was still aching from her shoe to his noggin. Maybe, just maybe he would reconsider if his tender goose-egg suddenly vanished and she came crawling to him desperately, begging him to forgive her. Maybe then…just maybe…
"Well, I'm not most young men, and I haven't the slightest interest in that….girl." he gritted out, holding his back his impertinent tongue.
"She's actually quite lovely and incredibly intelligent charming girl" said Prometheus a matter of factly.
Draco's lip curled in distaste.
"No, she isn't. She's far from it. Thaleia is far more appealing" he lied convincingly.
Phaeton grinned slyly, "Well, I'm not going to try and talk you out of this, better chance for me!"
"Son…Adonis, if you truly are this intent on not attending, than I shall not force you to. I can only ask that you reconsider. You still have a week to decide" said his mother.
Passive isn't she…
"Thank you mother, but I'd rather not attend. I have my…reasons" he responded respectfully.
Not going anywhere near that wench…bloody filthy Mudblood. Me? Pursuing that…bushy haired…monster? I think not…
.:.
"That's the fifth time this week! Where the bloody hell does that woman go every night?!" Draco exclaimed as the Contessa headed up to her bed room to change before her nightly rendezvous.
"Watch your insolent tongue!" Phaeton chided in sheer annoyance.
Prometheus pursed his lips and shook his head.
"Don't be so hard on him. He hasn't been quite right in the head since he had that nasty shock from the incident" he said calmly.
Rolling his eyes, the odd brother out promptly exited the dinner room. The composedness of the potter look-alike irritated him. Possibly even more so than the weasel's clone.
Tonight, Draco's incessant itching curiosity finally got the better of him.
He had to know where she was going.
Without a sound, he shut the heavy wooden door behind him, and crept behind a fair sized shrub, waiting for the Contessa to enter her awaiting silver-blue carriage.
As she entered the coach, Draco, like a cat, leapt out from the foliage and onto the ledge of the moving carriage.
Now we'll see…
.:.
The princess indulged herself yet again as she sank into her heavenly scented bath. Tonight, it was jasmine. She released a long, deep sigh as the silky jasmine petals covering the waters washed over her skin, gently caressing her body with its warm, soothing touch.
Cautiously, she tipped her head into the water, half heartedly trying to drown herself. Perhaps if she was dead, she wouldn't have to get married. She slowly began to lose air, but refused to pull herself up, until a worried sounding voice from above cried out. Taking her sweet time, Hermione slowly brought her head out of the water, breaking the layer of petals that had settled upon the waters, floating around decoratively.
A familiar Slytherin face met her eyes as se resurfaced.
"Princess! I was ever so worried. What in heavens name were you trying to do?" cried a wide-eyed and beyond terrified Hestia.
A tiny smile played onto her lips as she picked a flower from her hair.
At least someone cares about me…
"Nothing," she replied, "just thinking."
The distraught maiden closed a hand upon her breast and fell back onto a wooden stool nearby.
"Goodness Princess. You scared the living daylights out of me. Don't you ever do such a thing again" said Hestia feeling immensely relieved.
Hermione grinned slightly as she stretched her legs out across the bath. It was inches too short.
Hestia slowly got up and placed a towel carefully atop the stool she'd sat upon moments before.
"Hurry princess, you father wishes for you to be finished soon." With that said, she turned to leave.
"Wait!" cried Hermione suddenly.
She turned back and faced the girl.
"Yes? How can I help you princess?" Hestia replied robotically.
"Will you stay and talk with me?" asked Hermione feeling foolish.
A mildly surprised expression fell across the maid's face.
"Of course, what is it you wish to talk about?" she said smiling.
The princess thought hard for a moment, trying to word her question correctly as not to sound too unusual.
"I don't understand why I must be wedded …so soon…I'm only 16."
Hestia made a sound of acknowledgement and replied, "It is your father's wish princess."
Hermione heaved a sigh, "everything's his wish isn't it. What about my wishes? My dreams? My hopes? What about what I want?" she paused momentarily. "I know it sounds terribly childish and selfish…but it's just…just…so….unfair."
The hand-maiden smiled softly, her eyes filled with an iridescent, understanding warmth.
"One day, one day women will have rights. Princesses, daughters, maids, mothers, even queens. All women will have rights. Proper rights, and then, and then…it will be about you."
Hermione frowned and flicked a petal across the bath.
"Think it'll be any time this week?" she grinned faintly, reaching for her towel.
Hestia chuckled lightly and turned around to face the oatmeal coloured walls. "Well, we can only hope princess, we can only hope."
Carefully, Hermione wrapped the fluffy maroon towel around her body and hoisted herself out from the jasmine waters.
"Seeing as that isn't very great likelihood of that happening, tell me about Prince Hadrian will you?" she asked, gently rubbing her hair with another towel.
Hestia sat back down and readjusted her pearl necklace.
"Well, he's quite handsome that's for sure" she chortled.
"Hermione scowled, "a little more in depth please."
"Hmmm," began the maid thoughtfully, "Well, I believe he is a year older than you. He also has a brother. Prince Zander. That young man must be in his mid-twenties by now."
"How come I haven't seen him? Hermione interrupted, pulling on a cotton robe.
"He's in Spain, next in line for the crown so he must keep up with his duties you know, Princess," replied Hestia.
Hermione nodded understandingly.
"There isn't much to know about Hadrian, he's a very conservative young man from what I've seen and heard. You're very lucky to have him for a choice of husband. Many young women would kill for his hand in marriage."
The princess slowly shook her head of dripping hair.
"But I barely know him. I don't…l-love him," she had a hard time choking out the l-word.
At this, the maid tittered louder.
"Princess, you should know by now, that these days, marriage isn't about love. Especially not for a princess such as yourself! Besides, how would you know whether you were in love or not? Or that they even loved you back?" she sighed wistfully.
She was undoubtedly right. Thing were especially complicated now in terms of love seeing as she was a princess. They'd all be after her money and title. not for love.
Definitely not for love.
.:.
"Shit" swore Draco softly. His head had hit the side of the carriage with an audible thud.
The ride had abruptly stopped. He rubbed his silver-gray eyes tiredly. It'd been a long, bumpy ride.
The night had wholly veiled any source of light which would have been emitted from the darkened sky. The only sources of light now were the several lamps that had been spread around the surrounding grounds in a contiguous fashion. The air was vaguely chilly as frequent breaths of wind blew his way, chilling his insides. He cursed inwardly at his idiocy for not bringing a coat of some sort.
"We've arrived Countess," announced a voice from the opposite end of the coach.
The Slytherin hastily heaved himself up off the ledge and shrunk into the darkness. His black ensemble had served him well. Ducking down out of sight, he waited not so patiently as his mother left the carriage and slipped into the building before him. He took this chance to inspect the surroundings.
It was familiar.
Watching intently as the carriage drove away, realization at long last dawned upon him.
This was the Granger Castle.
Now why the bloody hell would his mother be going to the Granger castle so late in the night? So often? And…Alone?
Unaware, he soon found himself at the back of the fortress grounds. His damned curiosity had led him even farther into the already waist deep quicksand.
How to get in now? He knew only two ways.
One, the front entrance
And
Two, Granger's room.
A/N
Hmm...perhaps another midnight rendezvous for the lovers? Any idea who Ginnys secret love is?
and……the song's by Aiur/Forsaken Illusions - Missin' You. I love that one in particular!
remember to REVIEW! luv ya!
