Chapter 11: Callings of the Dark Knight
Ah blast you caught me. It was a bit of a filler. But it was definitely not pointless. He decides to go! Lol inevitable otherwise there wouldn't be a story. But still not pointless. Thanks for all the reviews once again! Loving feedback here.
Watching me, wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Fearing you loving you
I won't let you pull me down
"Must I go all by myself? What if I trip?!" Hermione fretted needlessly, contorting her fingers around in inconceivable ways.
Hestia chuckled lightly in her usual fashion and handed the princess another honeyed sweet for comfort.
"I promise you won't fall, Princess. Will you pass me another chopstick?"
The princess furrowed her brows as she picked up the silver hair ornament and handed it to the girl.
"Is all this even necessary?" she sighed, taking another lick of the sweet.
"It is and you know it. Wouldn't want you looking anything less than perfect when you get out there" said the handmaiden doing the final touches upon the girl's hair.
"Done! How do you like it?"
Hermione looked up from her plush velvet chair and faced the mirror before her. Her image reflected a young girl of 16 with her mixture of light and dark auburn hair done up in a complex style with two genuine silver chopsticks crisscrossed in an "x" and a few delicate tendrils of her curled hair framing her face. Her cheeks were dusted lightly with a rouge powder, but beneath it all she was still drained of all colour. As usual, her lips had been painted with a light crimson colour that made her lips shimmer the slightest bit when caught beneath the light. Upon her neck, she bore a delicate silver chain with a scintillating diamond cut in the shape of a crescent moon. Similarly designed earrings hung dangling on her dainty ears.
Hestia's eyes filled with threatening tears as she beamed at the princess, unnecessarily smoothing out the blackened-blue garment.
"You look lovely, Princess."
Hermione shrugged with a blasé outlook and attempted to loosen her rib-crushing corset. Hestia promptly reprimanded her actions.
"Don't touch that!" a semblance of a scowl etched into her visage. Turning around, she picked up a small golden box from atop the reddish-brown coloured vanity.
"Final touch!" She smiled excitedly, wiping away all traces of the scowl. Ever so slowly, she unhooked the clasp and opened the miniature, regal-looking box.
An airy squeal fell from Hermione's lips as the contents of the tiny chest were revealed. A petite diamond entrusted tiara; adorned with minute sapphires along the edges that sparkled iridescently under the light.
"It's beautiful" she breathed running a finger along the delicate diadem.
Hestia expertly slipped the tiara upon Hermione's head, completing her ensemble.
"I'm glad you like it."
A teensy smile played onto her lips as she gazed at the head piece in her reflection. Although she still felt overridden with anxiety and fear, things suddenly seemed the slightest bit better.
"Ay, it's about time you get your royal behind out there milady! Time to make your grand entrance. Good luck!" Hestia grinned widely, snatching the remainder of the sweet from the princess' hand.
With jittering nerves, Hermione barely stepped out from her room, unaware and unsuspecting of the fateful events that were waiting to befall her that very night.
Not so fashionably late, the Slytherin prince stumbled through the grand entrance doors.
No one else was in sight. Was he that late?
Where the bloody hell's the ball room…
Just as he was about to turn the corner, a hand came out from nowhere and clasped tightly around his wrist. He reacted instantaneously to the assault owing thanks to the daily deatheater training from Lucius.
Shit
"Young sir, may I be of any service to you?" came a voice.
Draco whipped around finding himself face to face with an elderly man clad in saffron coloured garments.
"Uh, yes…can you tell me which way to the ballroom?" he asked while peering over the man's shoulder; something that proved to be quite effortless as he towered over the man by a fair few inches.
"Certainly. Come, I shall lead you" the man replied primly.
Draco nodded tentatively and followed behind the man down a wide hallway lined with portraits of what appeared to be of the Trojan War.
"You'll be needing this" said the man handing Draco a silver mask as they arrived at two grand white doors.
The young man accepted the mask, wondering what use it would be as it only served to cover the top portion of his face.
"Thank you."
The man nodded briefly and heaved open the doors admitting Draco.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the doors, ignorantly oblivious to his wavering destiny.
Molten silver orbs darted around the grand ball room, hunting for glimpses of familiar faces. Already, he'd spotted his two brothers in the company of the two Granger ladies, Invidia, and the youngest one; he couldn't recall her name at the moment.
Lingering near the opposite end of the room, he spotted a cheery looking King Titan, a disgruntled looking Queen Arachne and to his abhorrence, the Contessa- looking as she always did. His pale face greened at the sigh as disturbing images flashed by once again.
Feeling as though he'd been thrown 50ft off the ground from a speeding Firebolt, Draco staggered over to the punch bowl and filled a goblet full of what tasted like an alcoholic fruit juice. It served little in aiding him to quench his thirst.
From somewhere in the room, above all the monotonous chatter erupted a sounding of trumpets that drew his attention.
The older man whom had led him here moments before appeared from behind the parting of the trumpet players. Gradually, the room grew silent with faint rustlings to be heard here and there. As all time seemed to pause for a moment, the man spoke, "Good evening ladies and gentlemen. May I present to you, the belle of the ball, Princess Artemis Hermione Granger."
Draco looked up with a prepared smirk upon his face, just for the incoming princess, but the moment she stepped through the doors, he froze; along with every other occupant of the room.
His eyes became fixed upon her image as she smiled feebly and curtsied before the crowd. Somehow she'd managed to look ten times prettier than she had looked their first day here and one hundred times more beautiful than any other lady in the room. Possibly the universe. His breath became lost within his throat as the goddess was accosted by a large clique of masked suitors.
Wow…
Oh bloody hell….this is never going to end….
The brown-haired beauty had been dancing for what seemed to be a lifetime and a half. Hours and hours of waltz', foxtrots, promenades, two-steps and such with men of all ages from Merlin knows where. Despite their differences in backgrounds, heritages, and looks, they all had a common goal. To win her heart -and her crown title.
"Vous êtes très belle, Princesse Artemis" said Eros, the crown prince of France. His accent was smooth and the language was pleasant to hear, but not so much the meaning behind the words. "Worthy of a prince such as moi."
Hermione stared up at the arrogant yet undeniably handsome fair-haired prince in utter disbelief.
"Vous convenez? I am wanted by so many, and yet, je vous ai donné de toutes les femmes une chance avec moi. "
Once again, Hermione found herself to be speechless.
I have just met Malfoy's idol…
To her immense relief, the hired orchestra stopped their playing for a brief intermission. Forcedly, she thanked the prince for the lovely dance and hurried off into the annoyingly perky and pretentious crowd, hoping to conceal herself within them.
The highly coveted princess stood cowering in a darkened, deserted corner, hoping not to be noticed by anyone. She peered around the corners inconspicuously observing the sea of suitors and such as she pulled out another honey sweet from the hem of her dress; her only consolation; besides the fact that she'd inadvertently discovered from the Harry look-alike that Malfoy had refused to come.
There were uncountable suitors amongst the crowd. Young men- years younger than her, and then there were the older ones; some disturbingly old such as the 80 year old man she'd been forced to dance with on more than one occasion. It'd been a horrifying experience having an old man….older than her father try and hit on her. Goose bumps spread across her arms as she unwillingly thought back upon it. So far, none of the suitors were of her liking, and there were only a small handful that were anywhere near her own age. She blatantly refused to consider any of the others. The younger ones made her feel like a pedophile and the older ones made her feel like she was being felt up by her grandparents. Utterly terrifying.
The music soon resumed. Hermione groaned softly, praying silently that no one would find her any time soon.
But she knew she couldn't hide forever; as much as she wanted to. Her stomach already ached with hunger crying loud enough so that she was positive the whole room could hear her. The smell of the food was wafting around her, seemingly taunting her; trying to lure her our from her hiding place onto to lead her out to a pack of hungry wolves that wished nothing more than to devour her.
Just as she was about to cave, she felt a hand clasp around her waist pulling her back.
"Hermione."
She whipped around right into the chest of the stranger, dropping her sweet in the process.
"Who are you?" she asked peering up into the familiar eyes of the masked man before her.
"Let me remind you." he whispered huskily.
Before Hermione had a chance to react, she found a recognizable pair of lips pressed firmly upon her own.
Definitely not a stranger…
Slowly, he pulled back. The princess stared up at his partly masked visage breathing unsteadily.
"Another reminder, I take it?" he said softly as he leaned into her.
His musky scent filled her senses as she breathed deeply into him.
Hermione sighed ever so softy in pleasure as his lips closed upon a tender spot upon her neck. She began to shiver involuntarily at his practised touches as his fingers crawled from her waist and up her spine.
His lips met hers once more in a firm, commanding kiss before he drew back once more. Without his body to cling on to she'd have collapsed the minute he touched her. She simply melted under his seductive touches.
"Hadrian," she breathed as he slowly released his grip upon her.
"Brings me comfort in knowing I am not forgotten." The prince smiled softly, taking hold of her by the waist once again.
Hermione looked up into his viridian orbs and was moments away from melting again.
"I certainly hope no other suitor has captured your heart my fair lady" he said as he pulled her up against his body.
She shook her head truthfully.
His eyes gleamed and his face loomed closer to her own causing words to tumble from her lips.
"That doesn't mean you have either."
The semblance of a smile upon his lips vanished instantaneously and his grip upon her tightened uncomfortably. He bent his head down to her ear once again, and whispered coldly.
"Really now."
His lips again pressed against the sensitive part upon the side of her neck and he began to suck gently upon the tender flesh.
Her knees weakened considerably at his sensual touch and her eyes shut tightly, trying desperately not to let herself be drawn in for a second time.
"Please, don't….don't" she breathed trying hard to spit out the words.
Her traitorous hormones defied her words and let a low moan escape her crimson lips.
Son of a Bitch
She could feel his lips curve into a smile against her flash. A smile…or perhaps a smirk…
"Hadrian….please…stop…."she tried again. The words were so difficult to say when all she wanted was for the feeling of such pleasurable ecstasy to be with her for all eternity.
"Really…are you sure now….Princess…" it was more a statement than a question for he knew she was weakening with each passing second. Slowly, he increased his pressure upon her, feeling satisfied as she weakened against him.
She bit her lip hard to try and stifle anymore unwanted sounds from within her.
"Yes. She is sure. Now let--Go--Of-- Her."
Hadrian looked up to meet the face of a grey eyed stranger.
Hermione too stared up at her saviour A mixture of relief and disappointment befell her.
Malfoy?
"Who do you think you are?" Hadrian demanded, highly annoyed at the stranger for intruding on his fun.
"I am Prince….Paris! Of Troy!" Draco declared thinking back to the portraits along the halls.
The princess raised a doubtful eyebrow at the young man.
Now where had she heard that name before…?
The Spanish prince sneered at the opposing man.
"Oh, really Prince Paris are you?" he smirked contemptuously. "What makes you think you can order me around."
Ah Shit…
Dumbass
"Because. Otherwise, otherwise I shall inform is majesty that you've been harassing the princess." He said slyly.
Damn that was lame. Why not or else I'll KICK YOUR ASS
Dumbass
Hadrian let out a derisive laugh.
"What makes you think he would believe you over me?"
Ah shit…
Dumbass
"Because. I'll back him up" said Hermione suddenly regaining her strength and will.
She noticed that his icy-blue eyes had hardened as he gripped her painfully for a moment before releasing her altogether.
"Thank you, and good day" Ssaid Draco tersely. Swiftly turning away, he took a hold of the princess' hand and led her out of the reach of the glaring raven-haired prince.
A/N
Thoughts on it? Review of course!
Song by the one and only Evanescence – Haunted
Translations:
Vous êtes très belle Princesse Artemis - You're very beautiful Princess Artemis
Vous convenez? je vous ai donné de toutes les femmes une chance avec moi. - You agree? I have given you of all women a chance with me
Something along the lines of that anyways )
Excuse my French if any of it's dreadfully incorrect.
