Legacy
by
Jeslyn Nighthawk
A/N: Okay, that is twice in one day, but don't get used to it. This is the extremely special case of it being my mom's birthday. So here is our birthday present mom. I love you. P.S. Taya says she is sorry, and she hopes you have a wonderful birthday anyway. Oh yeah, the fic starts to earn it's PG-13 rating here.
Review Responses:
Joy Cutting, JosiahGirl, and Tracy3: Thanks for your reviews. Here's an update.
Disclaimer: Are you kidding? I couldn't even get Sev to come over for my birthday, never mind claim to own him. *Sigh*
Chapter 8
Dressing for Lady Parkinson's ball was an even more involved affair than the masquerade had been the night before. That had been a trial run where no one would know who she was were she to make a fool of herself. Tonight she not only had to prove that Amelia could be a success to the ton, she also had to prove to Lord Snape that she could convince Society that she was Lady Amelia Lupin.
So it was with great care that, with Ginny's help, Hermione prepared for what would likely be one of the most trying events of her life. She spent nearly an hour in the bath, letting the lavender and rosemary oils soak into her skin. When she emerged from the bath, she wrapped herself in a warm, thick towel and sat before her vanity. While Ginny tamed, pinned and combed her hair into an elegant pile atop her head complete with resplendent ruby and topaz combs- the single ruby-dyed ostrich feather would come after Hermione was dressed- Hermione applied the subtle cosmetics that would accent her natural beauty. There was almost nothing to her efforts- that was the point. She brushed just the barest amount of kohl over her eyelids and lashes, making her eyes stand out just that much more. With a small brush, Hermione added some strawberry juice to her lips, staining them just barely redder. Finally, she lightly pinched her pale cheeks to bring a slight blush to the surface. That done, she moved to her dressing area, where again with Ginny's help, she first changed into a fine ivory silk chemise that fell to mid thigh. After donning the garter belt, Hermione carefully rolled on and buttoned her white silk stockings with secret relish. This was her favorite part of dressing: the slow leisure and sensuous feel of silk on skin. It was the only thing that, in her opinion, made up for the next portion of the process.
As soon as Hermione was finished, Ginny was there waiting with the corset.
"I hate corsets," Not that the look on Hermione's face left any doubt as to her feelings regarding the contraption.
"So you've said," Ginny replied with an indulgent roll of her eyes.
"And it's as true now as it was yesterday," Hermione snapped, as Ginny began the process of cinching the blasted thing. That was the last thing she said for awhile though, as she was only able to gasp as she felt the crack of her ribs, her lungs deflating, and her internal organs moving into their not so natural place somewhere in the vicinity of her lungs. With a final tug, Ginny announced she was "finished," and Hermione stood trying to catch her breath while Ginny went to retrieve the gown.
First came a crème colored chiffon under gown, with a beaded hem and bodice, the beads of which were a glittering topaz to match Hermione's hair combs, and the flowing sleeves falling just past her elbows. This was settled over Hermione's head carefully with regard to her hair and make up, and tied snugly in the back. Next came the red velvet over gown, which left the beaded bodice of the under gown revealed, as well as remaining open in the front the rich crème color in contrast to the bold crimson. The sleeves of the over gown were tied in such a way as to reveal the sleeves of the under at the shoulders, and stopped just short of them barely below her elbows to leave bare the beading and lace at the end of the under gown's sleeves. The bodice, sleeves and hem of the over gown were all adorned with gold knot-work, and the hem was also intricately embroidered.
The final touches were a set of earrings, a necklace and bracelet of topaz and rubies that perfectly matched the hair combs. The bracelet went over crème colored elbow length satin gloves. Finally, Ginny added the feather to her hair and announced, "That's it. You're done. Now go face His Grace. It's quarter past."
"Serves him right, the bastard."
" 'Mione! Watch your language!" Ginny actually sounded scandalized that her goody-two-shoes friend would use coarse language.
"Hmph."
"Go."
"I'm going." With a defeated sigh Hermione left her room, and had to pause at the top of the stairs to once again steel herself. With a determined –and she hoped dignified – lift to her chin, Hermione descended the stairs to face the Serpent.
***
Severus had been waiting in the front parlor for a good fifteen minutes. Minerva, at least, had sent a maid down to tell him she was running a bit late, but Miss Granger had not afforded him the same courtesy. He snorted to himself. Of course she hadn't. The foolish girl was upset with him. He couldn't blame her really. He probably shouldn't have admitted to the wager, but he hadn't honestly thought she would take it that badly. It was painfully obvious that the young woman had a temper that could and likely would match his. She certainly refused to allow herself to be intimidated.
Finding the small parlor too confining to placate an unexpected bout of nervous energy, Severus moved once again into the front receiving room, and began to pace. Where the devil was the chit?! He heard the murmur of skirts at the top of the stairs. Severus turned to face her, the angry snarl in his throat freezing at the sight that greeted him.
She was resplendent in Gryffindor colors – a symbolism that did not escape his notice – the red and gold bringing fiery highlights to her chestnut curls which were artfully piled on her head adorned tastefully with only a single feather. The neckline of her gown was low, but still well within the limits of taste, exposing an expanse of creamy flesh that drew his eyes almost without his consent. Her voice broke him out of the trance-like state he had fallen into.
"I am quite sure, Your Grace," Hermione said, disdain evident in her tone, "That my face is situated quite a bit higher on my body than your eyes are currently focused."
"As usual, Miss Granger, you are correct," Severus replied, meeting her eyes as she descended the stairs. When she reached the bottom and stopped in front of him, he allowed his eyes to sweep over her once more. "Of course, my dear, if you were wearing more than just that scrap of material…. Well, I am a man after all."
He should have seen it coming. Really, he knew that he was pushing her buttons. Still, it came as something of a surprise when one of her satin gloved hands came into rather painful contact with his face. As dense as it seemed he was though, Severus would be damned if he would let her hit him again. So, when the second hand came at him, he grabbed her hard by the wrist and backed her into the nearest wall, pinning her there with the length of his body.
He felt her breathing accelerate even as she screamed, "You bastard!"
"Bastard, Miss Granger?" He purred, "Surely you can do better than that?"
She spit in his face. "You pompous, overbearing, bullying SLYTHERIN!"
"True on all counts, Miss Granger," Severus' voice was a low hiss as he used his free hand to wipe off his face. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "You don't expect me to be insulted, do you?" She bit his ear. Not a loving, playful bite, but a full, vicious hard enough to draw blood bite. "You bitch!"
"True on all counts, Your Grace," She hissed back, "You don't expect me to be insulted, do you?"
Severus released her and moved back, touching his hand to his ear. He looked at the blood on it in disgust. "Now that wasn't very lady like, now was it, Miss Granger?"
"I'm no Lady, Your Grace, as you bloody well know!"
"HERMIONE GRANGER!"
Once again, Severus and the formidable Miss Granger were stopped mid-altercation by the even more formidable Minerva McGonagall. Minerva's voice settled into a more civilized tone, "Do watch your language, Hermione. I would hate for people to think you were a hethen." Severus smirked, but only until Minerva rounded on him. "And you. You quit provoking her. You're a Duke for God's sake. Act like it."
"Yes, Aunt Minerva," Miss Granger murmured contritely.
Severus was more sullen, "Yes, Minerva."
Minerva smirked at him and raised one shapely brow. "Don't pout boy. You'll never win her that way."
Severus ignored Minerva's cackle and Miss Granger's shocked look and walked out the front door to the carriage, only halfway succeeding in convincing himself he wasn't running away. Dear God, what had he gotten himself into?
TBC
A/N: And another chapter in which we are finally introduced to our favorite character's tempers. Did I do okay? I'm actually kinda nervous about this, because it is the first time I have ever tried to write anything like it. Let me know. Criticism welcome, flames trodden upon. Please review. I'm begging here.