Legacy
By
Jeslyn Nighthawk
A/N: You know, I really do have four other fics that I should post this weekend that I probably won't because this fic has taken up my attention. That and Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean. He is just scrumptious. Anyway, please do not be alarmed should this fic be put on temporary hold in favor of my other long standing fics. I will come back to it, I promise. On a different note, I feel it prudent to say that although this fic was inspired by the regency challenge on WIKTT, it no longer will fit enough of the requirements to be a proper answer, oh well.
Review Responses:
Secret Agent Smut Girl: I do plan to continue this and thanks for the vote of confidence.
Legaz: Thanks and mostly I'm looking for glaring errors and OOCness
Clavel: Thanks and sorry for the wait
CrazySwimmer27: Um, you've probably already found it, but here is the URL for the homepage, you have to be a member of Yahoo Groups and over 17 to join though. groups. yahoo. com/group/whenikissedtheteacher/ Thanks for your review.
Diaphanous: Thanks, I won't laugh I promise. As far as other stuff, I have one other Harry Potter fic, and I will be the first to tell you it is going to be horribly dark. Not at all like this one. I hope this story will remain as fluffy as it began though.
Chapter 3
Hermione's debut into society was to be at the Masquerade being hosted by the Earl of Norland, Sirius Black. Lord Black was a known rake, but as a wealthy and highly respected lord, he was considered among this year's Top Catches. Minerva had to admit to a small hope that he and Hermione would settle on each other. She was very fond of the man, rightly proud of him as her nephew. Beyond this, Minerva was hopeful that the masked atmosphere would allow for Hermione to try out her charade more comfortably.
As the day approached, Minerva could not help but send up fervent prayers to whatever Powers That Be that her niece would pull this off.
***
Lord Severus Snape, Fifth Duke of Noirwood, first cousin of the Prince-Regent himself, second in rank only to the same, had a dilemma on his hands.
For all his wealth and prestige, for all his rank and connections, he could not find a wife. The Prince-Regent was pestering him to take a bride, beget an heir and otherwise do his duty by the crown. Herein lay the problem. Snape would not settle for an average wife, she must be beautiful, refined, and at least have some modicum of intelligence. So far none of the girls he had met this season could meet more than two of those requirements, the last being nearly impossible to find. Added to this was the added obstacle of his own personality, which was acerbic in the extreme. He had effectively scared off every worrying mama in the ton, and along with them had gone their chicks.
Snape slammed his hand down upon his desk in frustration. There was no help for it. Despite his loathing of the man, Snape would have to attend the Masquerade being thrown by that imbecile, Black. Snape's black eyes narrowed in speculation, at least with a mask on he would have the opportunity to talk to a few of the newer young women without them being scared off by his reputation. Of course he had no intention of changing his personality. He could not marry someone who would be unable to stand up to his personality. He refused to deal with a wife who broke into tears at the slightest provocation.
He snorted. At this point it was beginning to look like he would have to settle. He doubted there was a woman out there that could live up to his expectations. Still.
Lord Snape walked to the corner of his study and rang for his butler.
***
Hermione was quite sure that she was going to find the inventor of the cursed contraption she was currently being forced into and hex him into oblivion. She was positive it had been a man, as no woman would ever willingly subject others to this kind of pain.
"ARGH!" She screamed at her sympathetic maid, Ginny Weasley. "I hate corsets!"
"So, you've said," Ginny mumbled. She took advantage of Hermione's exhalation to cinch the corset even tighter. She then tied off the laces, and spun her around to put on the gown. She pointedly ignored the blue tint to Hermione's face.
The gown was emerald silk and chiffon. It was Grecian style, with a daring neckline that made Hermione feel truly exposed. The long sleeves draped down her arms, falling open from her shoulders, gathered every three inches by golden clasps until her elbows, then left her forearms bare. The deep color set off her pale skin, and combined with the rich brown of her hair and eyes gave her the look of a Grecian goddess of the forest.
Dress in place, Ginny once again spun her around and herded her over to the small vanity in the corner. Upon sitting down, Hermione noticed the long mahogany box waiting there. She opened it and gasped as loudly as possible given her constricted airways. Lying in the royal blue velvet interior were emerald hairpins, earrings, a bracelet and necklace, all accented with a small fortune in diamonds.
"Where did these come from?" She asked her maid in wonder, turning one of the pins over in her hand. The jewelry was formed in patterns of leaves and vines.
"Your aunt sent them up. Said they were just lying around, and that she thought you would be able to make good use of them," Ginny replied absently, as she was busy pinning up Hermione's now sleek curls.
"Oh," Hermione murmured, and submitted.
***
The Black Masquerade Ball was a tribute to the Dionysian revels of old, at least in Hermione's opinion. It was, without a doubt, an excuse to get very drunk, behave abhorrently, and make a general nuisance of oneself, without ever being under the obligation to reveal one's identity. It was awful. Hermione, being a sensible and rather proud young lady, was becoming entirely bored with fending off the wandering hands of drunken young men. Though come to think of it, there had been several older gentlemen with manners just as poor.
Hermione sighed. At least Lord Black had been tolerable, charming even. If Hermione hadn't been under the distinct impression that he was hunting her, she might even have enjoyed his attention. Hermione sighed again and then had to stop herself from crying out in pain as once again her feet were trod upon by her innocent and incompetent dancing partner, the young Mister Neville Longbottom. This was getting old. As soon as the music paused, Hermione pleaded exhaustion and practically ran to a dark corner where she could hide herself at least temporarily from the young men so eager to dance with the new and mysterious beauty.
Imagine her surprise when she found her corner was occupied. She looked up into the cold, glittering black eyes of one of the tallest men she had ever encountered.
***
Dionysus would be proud, Severus thought as he surveyed the drunken revelry surrounding him. It had been years since he had attended one of these things, and he was beginning to doubt his sanity in doing so now. Unfortunately, he was quite distinctive in his appearance, domino or no, and therefore, husband hunting mamas had been pressing their simpering husband hunting daughters on him all night. It was getting old.
So, as soon as he was able, Snape had high-tailed it to a dark corner where could take at least temporary refuge from the onslaught and watch the proceedings from high ground. He watched in some fascination as a beautiful young woman dressed as a Grecian wood nymph was passed unwillingly from one hapless often crass young bow to another. He almost felt sorry for her. Were it not for the fact she had probably been hoping for just the thing that was happening to her, he probably would have.
Severus almost laughed out loud when the chestnut haired goddess was given to Neville Longbottom. The only thing that stopped him was that it would give away his hiding place. His mirth was quickly squashed, however, when said goddess decided to make her escape in the direction of his corner.
And so it was that Lord Severus Snape, Fifth Duke of Noirwood, found himself sharing a small dark corner with a Greek goddess, with the warmest brown eyes he had ever looked into.
TBC
A/N: Well, there it is. A lot of description and not much plot, but more in the next chapter I promise. At least they met. Please read and review. I am a feedback junkie.
Ja ne and Happy Thanksgiving.
-Jes