………"Marvelous work Ronald!" Lupin declared.
Ron blushed.
"What's he got there?" asked George.
"What's this? Brusto's invite list?" said Fred, taking a list from Lupin.
"Yeah," said Ron, still dressed as a chimney sweep, "copied it magically while he was getting me payment."
"Hurry up then," said George impatiently, "Is Lucius going or not?"
"One second, one second," said Fred, who was scanning through the names, "Yes! Yes he is! He has even confirmed it."
George and Fred looked at Lupin anxiously, "Looks like we'll also be going to the party after all," Lupin said.
"Righteous!" cried Fred.
"I love parties!" said George.
"But I thought you said it was too dangerous!" Ron said, the three brothers talking all at once.
Lupin chuckled, "I didn't mean you two!" he said to George and Fred, "I meant the Order. And probably just a few of us at that," his eyes turned to Ron, "because you're right Ron, it IS dangerous."
Fred and George sunk down into their seats. "We never get to do anything undercover," complained Fred.
"That's because you two are so obvious," said Lupin, "We need someone who doesn't look so suspicious! But who of us shall go…"
"Let me see that Fred," spoke Harry for the first time, since he was very quiet these days. He read through the list and scoffed. "Ivan will be there no doubt," said Harry.
"Know him?" asked Lupin.
"Remember when we tried to spy on the Prophet a few months ago? To see who was writing all the false stories?"
The table of wizards nodded.
"Well obviously we didn't find out to much from that now did we? But one thing we were able to find out for sure was that Brusto had paid off the newspaper from posting a story about Ivan."
"What was the story?" asked Ron.
"That he was a womanizing pig basically," said Harry harshly. "He trashed a hotel room or something, the police were called and he blamed it all on his room full of girls. Well that pissed them off some so they all started saying how they didn't even want to go to his room, that he got them drunk or pressured them into it. Next thing he knew there was a big scandal. "
"Well no wonder his father didn't want that printed, terribly concerned about his image he is…" said Lupin, "Perhaps we can use his son's tendencies to our advantage…"
Just then they all turned as the heard the door open. Hermione entered the room and instantly Harry and she made awkward yet pleasant eye contact, then quickly Harry's eyes went back down to the list Ron had stolen. Lupin was also looking at her very closely, after noticing how all the boys in the room sat up a little straighter, removing their elbows from the table and smoothing their hair, smiling friendly at her.
"Hmmm…" he said softly, thinking to himself…
"What is it Harry?"
Lupin looked back at Harry who suddenly became so stiff and stern in the face George felt it necessary to see if he was ok.
"Rodolphus Lestrange is on this list..." Harry finally answered.
The surrounding boys faces grew grim with sudden understanding. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.
"I think it's time I take that Harry, if you don't mind," said Lupin as sensitively as he could, although the nervousness in his voice still detectable ………
… … …
"Miss…Miss…"squeaked Bubsy, trying to rouse Hermione from out of the deep covers.
At first Hermione just groaned, like she always had when it came time to wake up, but after the strike of reality she immediately popped up and looked defensively around. It was just the little house elf.
"Oh," she sighed softly, "Hello," she said to it.
It looked at her funny, not used to any sort of behavior that wasn't mean. "Miss," Bubsy went on, "The kitchens is wondering what you'll be wanting for breakfast miss."
Breakfast, the word alone caused Hermione's stomach to mumble in anticipation. Hermione made her request, and was happy as the house elf turned to leave instantly, as if her order was no problem what-so-ever.
"Right away miss," Bubsy squeaked.
"Oh," said Hermione suddenly, not exactly sure how long she thought she'd be staying there now, but then again not wanting to think about it, "Uh… you can call me Hermione you know," thinking the "miss, miss" thing would get a little old after awhile…
"As you wish Miss Hermione," she squeaked and Hermione laughed a little as her attempt was rendered futile.
"Wait," Hermione called after her as she turned to leave again, "What's your name?"
The elf stood up a little straighter and looked at her as if she wondered if she was in trouble, "Bubsy," it finally confessed.
"Oh," said Hermione, smiling softly, "Well thank you Bubsy."
The elf's eyes grew twice as large and it let out a little squeak as it ran out of the door.
'Geez,' thought Hermione, looks like no one there would keep her company.
She climbed out of the high bed and went to investigate the sunlight creeping in from the drapes over the sliding glass door. Except for the smoggy day full of tall looming shops in Knockturn Alley, Hermione hadn't taken the time to truly get reacquainted with open spaces since she was taken from Voldemort's house.
But after looking out of the window though, she wished she had better prepared herself. The beautiful acreage went on forever, with rolling hills, grassy knolls, winding creeks and thick, deep green forests. The scene made her heart long for Hogwart's… visiting Hagrid with her friends, or watching the boys practice quidditch in lovely green fields. How long had it been since she felt like she was home?
Suddenly there was a soft rap on the door. Hermione stood out on the balcony looking into the room, not knowing what to do. Whoever it was she didn't care, but ultimately she decided not answering was a stupid reason to get into trouble.
Hermione slowly opened the door and was very surprised to see a young girl standing there. She was a little shorter than Hermione, with browner hair tucked up in a bun, and in a long white blouse with black slacks.
"Hello," she said.
"Hello," said Hermione, cocking her head to the side. What was this? A daughter of a friend? Possibly a distant relation? If she were a Malfoy, would she give her trouble?
"I'm Sarah."
She didn't look like Narcissa really; her noise didn't turn up slightly…
"I'm Her..."
"Hermione, I know," she said. "Narcissa sent me here," she added after a short pause.
"Does she want something?" Hermione asked finally.
"Well no, not right now… I'm sorry," Sarah said, "Let me explain, Narcissa told me to go introduce myself, to let you know I'm here if you need anything."
Hermione was suddenly surprised as she figured out this girl was a servant, although she tried to hide it as not to be rude. But honestly, a girl so young as a servant? She didn't look a day over thirteen. It was ridiculous; she should be off playing and going to school.
Hermione wanted to ask her how she had found herself in this place. She looked healthy enough and happy enough as far as Hermione gathered. But still… Suddenly she wished Narcissa was there, to give away more information about the strange new girl.
"Why didn't Narcissa introduce us herself?" asked Hermione.
"Uh… well, Narcissa…"
"Hates that I am here?" asked Hermione smiling
The girl seemed to almost crack a smile herself, as if she too enjoyed Narcissa's misery, "No," she corrected, "It's not that, she's just busy right now, and she needed me to tell you she would like you to meet her in the north wing 2nd floor parlor at 11 o'clock."
"Did she say what for?" Hermione asked, still perplexed, but feeling somewhat comfortable in front of this girl.
"Something about readying you for the announcement."
"Announcement?" Hermione repeated.
"The engagement announcement."
"Oh," she said.
"Sorry," added Sarah, "that's all I know really. But I better get going…"
"Do you- uh, live here then?" asked Hermione quickly.
Sarah nodded, "In the east wing."
"Isn't that where the house-elves stay?" Hermione asked without thinking.
The girl blushed a bit, "Well we have the 4th floor all to ourselves," she blurted.
"Yourselves?" said Hermione.
"Me and my father… but he's not here right now… he should be back in a few days," said Sarah, looking the most nervous she ever did out of the entire conversation, "He travels a lot, but I really must get going, I'm sorry. But remember, if you need anything you can call me."
"Oh... Okay," said Hermione as Sarah quickly turned away and began to leave, "Thank you…" called Hermione after her, but Sarah didn't say anything back, just slightly turned and nodded a little, then disappeared around the corner.
Hermione was still pondering the oddness of the young girl servant when there was another rap on the door. Bubsy entered with a tray much larger than her arm span. Hermione immediately relieved the little elf of her burden.
"Thank you Bubsy! This looks absolutely delicious!" Hermione said, her stomach grumbling more than ever.
The house-elf, still unsure of Hermione's kindness, smiled weakly and quickly exited the room. Hermione looked about at the room's emptiness and sighed. She'd be eating alone, but since she was still in a nightshirt she might as well eat it in bed.
By the time Hermione had finished her fresh warm Belgium waffles covered in whipped cream and syrup, scrambled eggs, bacon, oatmeal with cinnamon swirls and fresh mango she was in quite a good mood… only to look around, recall her solitude and realize she had no one to share it with.
Although her stomach was still overwhelmingly satisfied, Hermione's mind couldn't help but dwell on the hopelessness of the situation and her good mood was soon gone.
She hadn't escaped last night, and that had been her only plan… the only window of opportunity that she thought she had. Oh, the horrible feeling of actually thinking she'd be a pawn in Voldemort's mysterious scheme, to actually act like she wanted to be here… to maybe even marry Draco Malfoy!
No, she couldn't let herself think like that. There would be another window of opportunity. There had to be. That's all she could tell herself, otherwise… why continue living? Why let Voldemort use her in his unknown advancements? Why put herself through the torture? She'd never let herself help him! If there really was no way out, she'd take her own life.
She shuddered at the thought. No, she couldn't think like that either. With just a little more time, with just a little more information, she'd rework her chance to get away. Somehow, she'd get another chance.
She was ambitious and determined, she knew that. But she still felt horrible. How could you not be, being held against your will in such a place. It was nearing ten in the morning, and the only thing she could think of to raise her dismal hopes even the slightest degree was the universal goodness of a hot shower.
… … …
Hermione pushed open the door a little bit and peered in, Narcissa was sitting in the sunlight reading the Daily Prophet, a cigarette between her fingers and a house-elf standing stilly and silently a few feet away from her, ready for orders. Hermione opened the door all the way and entered. Narcissa must have heard her enter, but still did not look.
"Ms. Malfoy…" she said apprehensively as she approached the table, she was asked there after all, "Sarah told me to come see you…"
"A young lady of high wizarding esteem always waits to be invited in," said Narcissa stiffly, still looking at the paper but also putting out her cigarette, "and a young lady of high wizarding esteem never, ever speaks without being spoken to when in the presence of her elders," finally she folded the paper over and turned to look at Hermione, her piercing eyes finally falling upon the girl's face.
She had found a black skirt and blue button up blouse in the walk in closet, and had pulled her curls up into a ponytail.
"Well it's nice to see you at least shower," drawled Narcissa, causing Hermione to scowl, "and you were on time…" she nonchalantly pulled another gift bag from the other side of her chair and set it on the table without saying a word about. When Hermione continued to just stand there Narcissa furrowed her brow, "You may sit," she quipped as if it was painfully obvious that that was ok.
Hermione slipped into a chair across from Narcissa; in front of her was a plate full of hors d'oeuvers, little crackers smeared with some white cream and a slice of cheese on top.
"Feel free to try it," said Narcissa as she ruffled through some papers she also had before her.
Food? Okay. Hermione picked up a cracker and put it in her mouth. It went down smooth enough and was actually quite tasty, then she sucked some cream that had gotten on the tip of her thumb. Immediately Narcissa shook her head.
"No fingers in your mouth!" she ordered.
Hermione slowly put her hand down. So this is what this was, training the dog eh? Fine. If these idiots thought they had to teach her to be a stuck-up spoiled ignorant bastard pureblood then she'd show them what a fast learner she was. The sooner she got them off her back the sooner she could concentrate on leaving.
Hermione daintily took another cracker and slowly placed it in her mouth, where she pursed her lips together and chewed it with a bored yet prissy expression. Narcissa leered at her subtle mocking but said nothing; instead she shuffled through her papers once more.
She seemed to be quite focused on what was before her so much that Hermione felt like she wasn't even there, so she just continued to eat the hors d'oeuvres and look out the window.
She could see that on that side of the house contained the pool and patio area, which, like everything else, was beautifully crafted and landscaped. The pool curved into a little cove, and stylish tables and chairs were merged in with pots of beautiful tropical flowers. Just beyond there, was a pool house as big as Hermione's normal house.
"Can you dance?" asked Narcissa suddenly, looking at one particular sheet of paper.
"Excuse me?" said Hermione, not sure she heard her right.
"Draco is a marvelous dancer…" Narcissa boasted, "So a live orchestra might be nice treat at the reception. But if you can't dance then we might as not even bother," she finished snottily.
Hermione looked at her perplexed, she was no contest winner but who didn't know a few traditional steps? "I can dance fine enough, and what I don't know officially I can't imagine being too hard to catch on," she said defensively.
Narcissa sighed, "Well for it to be worth it we should get you some dancing books. Hopefully you can manage a few waltzes, I mean it's not like Draco could be anymore embarrassed" She turned to the house elf, asking it to fetch the books.
Him? 'Embarrassed'? That was nothing compared to her outrage! Her complete and total disgust to the thought of their wedding, such an event that went against her very basic principles, far out weighed any of Draco's embarrassment! There were bigger problems to deal with, who cared about planning the details of a marriage that was a total sham?
"Do you really think some fake reception is going to matter?" Hermione spat without thinking.
Although it angered Narcissa, she didn't take any stricter actions against her than an icy tone, "That's exactly the attitude Lucius has!" she cried, "Complaining about the cost of flowers and saying the colors on the invitation didn't matter! He didn't even want to throw an engagement party! But I couldn't disagree more. It's bad enough we have to go through all of this because of you, the least we can do to show we are still respectable Malfoy's despite current circumstance is put on a decent ceremony!"
Hermione regretted saying anything as Narcissa continued to rant passive aggressively against Lucius, "I mean it's not like anyone bloody cares what this is putting me through! I haven't dreamed of my son's wedding since the day he was born or anything! Why, it was going to be the grandest social gathering elite society has ever seen! And now… now! Now it's ruined!"
Hermione glared at Narcissa. What a self-righteous twit. Hermione was being forced to marry Draco while she was worried about what it would do to her reputation as a rich bitch? Hermione hoped Narcissa wouldn't be offended if she didn't cry about it.
But Narcissa just kept on going, obviously this had been on her mind for awhile and now she finally had a chance to say it, "My only solace is that this isn't permanent. I don't know when exactly but someday…" she trailed off not knowing how to put it, "you'll be …disposed off… and then when Draco really gets married, then maybe we can redeem ourselves. But that doesn't give us any right to go being tacky and cheap now! There still is some name we can salvage; we're bloody Malfoy's after all. This wedding may be absolutely meaningless but Merlin knows it's going to be tasteful!" feeling satisfied with her mini-tantrum she sat back in her chair and huffed.
'Alright, fine, throw your silly wedding reception if it will shut you up,' thought Hermione, a little freaked out by Narcissa. She hoped not all 'elite' wizard wives were as insane as her, but then she realized that they probably were.
She could only imagine how horrible this little community of 'pure families' must be, surely nothing like the kind, genuine Weasley's who had to work for everything they had but would gladly give it all to you in a heartbeat anyway.
No, these corrupt, fake and pretentious people were probably just as snooty and image obsessed as Narcissa, Lucius and Draco.
Hermione could just see it all now, complimenting and fawning all over each other for their latest achievements or purchases one minute (but really cursing each other's eyes out inwardly out of jealousy or contempt), only to coyly brag about themselves and inversely insult the other the next minute. Everyone pretends to adore the other, but if given the chance, they'd destroy the other's empire in the blink of an eye. How could they live in such a society? It was absolutely disgusting.
For a second there, Hermione's eyes almost teared up. Every little girl dreams of her wedding, and having those kinds of people at her wedding was definitely not part of her dream.
But then it dawned on her… why would they come? Narcissa was obviously worried about what people thought, leading Hermione to believe that most of the people she associated with didn't like mixed-bloods, hence this wedding being so humiliating.
But just because some families didn't approve of mix-bloods didn't make them in with you-know-who, Hermione thought, recalling Sirius's parents and their indifferent apathy to the dark arts… And then again some of the high society pure families advocated mixing quite publicly.
Surely the rich, powerful and just members, such as the uncorrupted (but still ridiculously rich and snooty) ministry families would be invited; they were Lucius's coworkers and esteemed colleagues after all. But how much did the elite society know about this wedding? It was safe to assume everyone knows who they are, what with both being top students in Europe's most famous wizarding school, and both inadvertently famous either through association with Harry Potter or Lucius Malfoy….Did they think Draco and Hermione honestly wanted to wed? That they loved each other? Was that what she was expected to make everyone believe!
"Does everyone know Voldemort… requested this…. arrangement?" Hermione asked, fearful that it might be out of bounds, 'everyone' meaning the Malfoy's friends, 'frie-nemies' and the families Narcissa was so secretly desperate to be better than.
Narcissa's head was lowered back into her papers but her eyes looked sternly up at Hermione. "Some know…" she said cryptically, "and out of dear friendship they have agreed to help us during our… time of need,"
'The Death Eater families…' thought Hermione as Narcissa continued,
"They have agreed to be apart of the wedding party… the bridesmaids, the groomsmen, ushers and the like. But if you're wondering about high wizarding society abroad, then no, of course they do not, what would be the point if they knew you were forced? Though there are of course rumors…Rumors we must put an end to."
"Wh-..." Hermione began to form the word 'why' to ask why Voldemort wanted them to get married in the first place, but thought better of it. Perhaps Narcissa wasn't the best person to get that information from.
Hermione was saved by the returning house-elf, who handed her "Step dancing for the inept" to which she glared at angrily.
… … …
Hermione sighed deeply as she kicked open her door and dropped her gift bag and dance books into the room after carrying them all that way. 'No more Narcissa,' she thought to herself, relieved and proud she had gotten out of that parlor. She managed to convince Narcissa she needed some quiet time to make decisions about the wedding and that Hermione better get to learning to dance. After talking to the horrid women, she was now happy to be alone, opposed to earlier that morning.
Her curiosity led her to the gift bag, which she dumped out on to the floor. She instantly regretted it because it was her CD playing stereo and CD's, among other solid items that clunked and clattered all over. After immediately picking it up, she concluded from her inspection that it was probably ok.
Then she looked down around her at the other items. Her eyes lit up as she discovered cans of Mountain Dew surrounded her. She could squeal. She popped one open and chugged half the can. It was so incredibly delicious; the memory from a simpler and happier life seemed to fill a void in her. Although, it was a tad warm. She was thinking she'd ask a house-elf to chill the rest for her as she rummaged through the CD's Lucius had taken from her room in England.
She smiled at her odd diverse taste in muggle music… Grateful Dead, The doors, Van Halen, how she had missed hearing her favorite classic rock bands, she had so many she adored. The next abundant group would have to be singer songwriter's like Ben Harper and Jason Mraz, exactly what she used to play when she needed to de-stress. She smiled at her CD's she got a lot of crap for from her muggle friends… Christina Aguilera, the Spice Girls.
'What do they know?' she thought jokingly. Some pop music just plain ruled and she'd defend those albums to her grave! Then came a Britney Spears CD… and Wang Chung? She laughed out loud. Okay, so those she was a little ashamed of.
American artists were quite fun, but Hermione was utterly relieved to see Lucius had grabbed her all time favorite CD's, British of course, Coldplay and The Beatles. When she discovered all the mixed CD's some friends had made her, as well as ones she had made herself, she had to quickly set them back down, afraid the nostalgia and longing that would result from the handwriting and inside jokes on them would make her very homesick and upset.
Interested to see if she had broken her stereo, she chose Outkast over Incubus and popped it in the player, crossing her fingers as she pressed play. The funky staccato beat escaped from the speakers and Hermione grinned from ear to ear, the batteries she had jinxed to never die working like a charm! She took another sip of Mountain Dew as she bobbed her head to the song (the only rhythm a little British girl like her had) and slid the dance book over to herself. Upon opening it a large canvas mat magically popped out from the front cover. She unfolded it and realized it had footsteps with numbers on it, "The Blue Danube," it read, and to Hermione it sounded vaguely familiar.
"Pity," she said softly out loud, "I wanted to learn Swan Lake."
Magically, the mat morphed its steps and the top read "Swan Lake". Hermione smiled, "The tango!" she said, and again the mat changed to fit the song. 'Well that's neat,' she thought and she rose from the floor, laying the mat out flat.
She decided she might as well try her hand at the Emperor Waltz and Outkast was as good background music as any.
She grinned foolishly as she attempted the classic dance step while keeping the beat of the modern music, which, although she looked silly, was actually quite fun. Perhaps being cooped up in a prison for six months leaves you easily amused for a while, or perhaps she was so intensely homesick and depressed, she was desperate for anything to lift her spirits.
"Da da daa Da da!" she sang outstretching her arms and twirling in good fun as she became more used to the order of the routine.
As Draco turned the corner the weird and unfamiliar noise filled his ears. He crinkled his forehead as he wondered what the hell it was. He was not surprised to hear it grow in volume as he approached Hermione's room.
The door had remained open since she had kicked it due to her arms being full, and since she was distracted by the new things in front of her she never did remember to shut it.
She twirled around only to see a muddy, tired looking blonde boy with a broomstick over his shoulder looking in. Startled, her arms immediately dropped down to her side, but the music continued to play. Draco watched as her once happy smiling face fell into blank sternness.
After a rush of thought, she decided there was no point in getting embarrassed in front of Malfoy. He had already seen her weep after all, and that hadn't been the end of the world. Besides, what did his opinion matter in the end?
"Need something?" she asked angrily, agitated at his snoopiness and his blatant rudeness to just stop and stare.
Draco, being an only child, thought nothing of his invasiveness simply because he didn't know any better, crankily asked what the hell the racket was.
"Outkast," Hermione said simply.
Draco lifted an eyebrow at her, still looking tired and now slightly disgusted.
"Is that alright?" Hermione asked, sensing a slight desire to yell at her just for the hell of it coming from him.
And don't think the thought hadn't crossed Draco's mind… but, he ultimately decided that he really didn't care and he shrugged at Hermione. "Outkast" didn't seem that bad he supposed (a likely excuse for his suppressed curiosity, he had never heard much muggle music before…)
"They seem sort of like Boogiemen," added Draco nonchalantly, comparing them to a wizard group.
Hermione gave a little laugh, "A bit better than them I'd say."
Draco rolled his eyes, "Well of course you would, muggle-born."
Hermione glared at him, "I'd like to tell you that that's lame generalization to assume of me, that I only like muggle things, but when it comes to music unfortunately you're stereotype is correct."
Draco scoffed, "You'd say anything muggle was better than wizard. Don't act like you're not biased."
"Well I'm not," quipped Hermione, "Unlike some people, I respect the diversity of both worlds. But it just so happens to be true in this one instance that muggle music is better than wizard music."
"Really," Draco said condescendingly, "And why is that I wonder?"
"Because muggle music takes more work, more feeling gets put into it."
"Huh?" asked Draco, looking at her like she might as well have 'stupid' written on her forehead.
"Anyone can bewitch an instrument and sing along," said Hermione, defending her opinion, "but to play an instrument with your bare hands, to actually strum the strings or beat the drums, to create the sound every time, that takes work. Muggle music just carries more emotion in it, more meaning."
To this Draco merely glared, he had no idea what she was talking about, what it was like to have to do something complicated with your own hands… "Whatever," he said, dismissing her rudely and wiping old sweat and dirt off of his cheek, "I need to go shower so listen up, look nice by 7 o'clock. I have to take you to dinner."
He turned and left before he could see the puzzled expression on Hermione's face.