Legacy
by
Jeslyn Nighthawk
A/N: Well hit by a rabid muse at 2 in the morning, and this is the result: by far the longest chapter I have ever written. I hope it was worth the wait. HUGE thanks to Taya who pointed out the inaccuracies of my regency world. While I can't really do much about the etiquette (it would take me a lifetime, I think, to really understand it well enough to write it well) I can fix people's titles, and will be going back to fix all of them in the near future. Please leave a review at the end. I really appreciate them. Oh, yeah. I BROKE 100 REVIEWS! Jumps up and down Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Responses at the end.
Disclaimer: Don't own them, and I'm sure they would be appalled at all I put them through.
Chapter 9
The ride to Lady Parkinson's ball was one Hermione would rather forget. It was filled with an awkward tension that resonated between herself and the melodramatic Duke she was forced to share a carriage with. Hermione did not know what to make of her aunt's comment. He was courting her? It made no sense. He had been nothing but horrid to her since he revealed he knew her secret. But given what her friends had said, maybe that was how he always was. Still, taken in this new context, did she still want his attention?
The answer she found, after a good twenty minutes of soul-searching, was a resounding yes. Duke Snape, Severus, was a challenge Hermione could not turn down. And despite his offensive behavior, Hermione could not help but feel that he was the first man other than Harry to see her as an intelligent person, not just a fluffball in a pretty dress. He was certainly the first to match her intellectually. Except for the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Duke Dumbledore. But then he was a few bricks short of a ton…
It occurred to her, however, just as they were pulling in to Lady Parkinson's yard, that her speculation was based entirely on the assumption that her aunt was correct, and Snape was interested in her for anything other than a wager.
Hermione was still chewing on this thought when she was suddenly face to face with Lady Parkinson herself in the entryway to the ballroom. Lady Parkinson was a cold woman, not particularly beautiful, but strong of feature in a way that made her handsome. Her features were sharp and exaggerated. Her honey-blonde hair was piled elegantly atop her head and adorned with sapphires and blue-dyed feathers to match her gown. The gown itself was a shade of sapphire blue that perfectly matched Lady Parkinson's cold, glittering eyes, and left just enough to the imagination. The bodice was cut just above the line of indecency and the thin silk clung to her curves without actually revealing anything. The insincere smile on their hostess' face was enough to tell Hermione what the woman thought of her.
"Severus! Minerva!" Lady Parkinson exclaimed in a sultry voice that was just this side of simpering, "How good to see you both! And who is this?" She asked with a raised eyebrow at Hermione.
Duke Snape, Severus, motioned Hermione forward a bit from where she had been not hiding behind him and her aunt, and said in his silkiest tones, "Lady Alfred Parkinson, may I present Lady Amelia Lupin? She is Minerva's niece, of course." Underlying was the message that Hermione was not to be touched. There would be no attempts at sabotage from this quarter at least. Not if Duke Snape, Severus, had anything to say about it. And it looked as if he just might.
"Of course," Lady Parkinson replied, as she echoed Hermione's bashful curtsy. She looked curiously between her aunt and Duke Snape, Severus.
This time it was her aunt who answered the Lady's unspoken question, "Severus has been kind enough to offer us his service as escort, this Season."
"How thoughtful of him," Lady Parkinson drawled.
"Yes, quite," Minerva replied, shortly.
Lady Parkinson seemed to take in Hermione's aunt's cooling demeanor, and said, "Well, do enjoy the party." Just as they were walking away, she said, "Oh, Severus! Draco is here, by the way. I'm sure he would love to talk with you."
"I will endeavor to find the occasion, Violet," Severus practically purred.
"Do," she replied.
As they entered the ballroom, Hermione had the distinct impression she had missed something, but felt her curiosity wither in the face of the sweltering crowd that was the first major ball of the Season. Magnificent crystal and gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling bathing the room in an intensely warm glow. Ladies gowns and gentlemen's frock coats made a dizzying swirl of color as they moved in time with the music, and to mingle along the sidelines. Over the music, Hermione could hear the nearly deafening hum of conversations. Scents of strong perfumes, underlied by human sweat, threatened to overwhelm her sorely taxed senses.
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when Duke Snape's, Severus', hand came to rest on the small of her back. None the less, she took her strength from it, and fought off the overwhelming sensations. They were soon drowned out by his voice in her ear anyway. "You will save a waltz, for me, my dear?"
Hermione swallowed hard, trying to control her breathing, "Of course, Severus." She was proud that her voice trembled only a little.
"Good," And he was gone, with only a little shove to get her going.
Hermione found herself caught up in her aunt's wake, being introduced to the grande dames of the matrons, and being given permission to waltz. Shortly after her dance card was completely full, with Duke Snape's, Severus', name written in on her third, and last, waltz.
She was slightly shocked to find one other name she recognized on her list, her second waltz: Marquess Draco Malfoy.
Severus stood in the shadows, watching his quarry with unflagging eyes. She really was resplendent in her Gryffindor gown, though the symbolism was lost on the majority of the haut ton, muggles for the most part. She practically sparkled with vitality and intelligence, and he doubted there were many men out there capable of truly appreciating that. He didn't stop his watch to think about the odd feeling of possessiveness that came over him every time she danced with someone else, or one of her young beaux touched her arm or hand during a discussion. None of them were worthy of the cheeky wench.
He was still aware, of course, the moment Lord Alfred Parkinson came to stand beside him. "She is quite a find, Severus."
Severus didn't bother to reply. Without taking his eyes off his prey, he asked in his coldest voice, "What news do you have for me, Alfred?"
"Never were one for pleasant conversation were you?" Parkinson sighed before continuing in a no-nonsense manner, "You will have heard of course that your godson, young Malfoy, is in town?" At Severus nod, he continued, "Apparently he and Lucius have had a falling out of some sort. Disagreement about politics or some such. Apparently he thinks his father is an elitist snob." Severus snorted at that. That was the pot calling the kettle if ever he had heard it, "Still, it must have been rather serious."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Lucius is talking of disowning the whelp. I talked with him the other day. Apparently, Draco refuses to join the Death Eaters. Rather smart of him if you ask me. That upstart Voldemort will cause nothing but trouble in France."
"Hm."
"If Lucius does disown him, I won't allow the boy to continue courting Pansy, Severus. You will warn him, won't you?"
Severus finally looked at Parkinson, pinning him with his cold stare, "Certainly." He turned his eyes back to the dance floor where his prey was dancing with Longbottom. The idiot kept stepping on her toes. "Anything else?"
"Only that Rosier was seen down at the docks, yesterday. Don't know who he visited, though."
"Good. Now go away."
"Of course. Severus."
"Alfred." Severus acknowledged with a bare inclination of his head.
Now why was the stupid chit waltzing with his godson?
Marquess Malfoy, Marquis du Malfoi, was in Hermione's considered opinion, much too beautiful for his own good. She knew for herself at least, she could never marry a man who was prettier than she was. And Draco Malfoy was beautiful. His soft, white-blonde hair, was pulled artfully from his face and secured with a grey silk ribbon, accenting his perfectly chiseled, if slightly pointed, features. His smoky grey silk frock seemed to emphasize the silver of his eyes, and set off his pale skin. All in all, he looked something like a demented angel, much too sensuous to be heavenly.
She had never met, or even seen, Malfoy at Hogwarts, though they had attended together. She was a Gryffindor, and a female, so they had never had any classes together. Not that she looked even remotely the same now, she thought, with a small secret smile. Gone was the frumpy bookworm. In her place was the sophisticated Amelia Lupin.
"Now what could have brought such a look to your lovely face?" Draco purred in her ear.
Hermione started at the brief contact, "What look, Marquess Malfoy?"
"You look as if you have a secret," he whispered, his breath brushing her ear and making her shiver, "Do tell."
Hermione forced a light chuckle "Then it wouldn't be a secret, would it, my lord?"
His replying chuckle told her she had got him off the scent. For now. He was a Slytherin after all.
"And there is my godfather, looking as if he were our own personal thunder cloud. I do wonder what I have done this time," Malfoy smiled at her with all of his charm, nodding his head in Duke Snape's, Severus', direction.
"Duke Snape?" Hermione asked.
"None other. I do hope Uncle Severus will let us finish this waltz." Hermione had never wished for anything else more forcefully. Severus might set her nerves on fire, but he also made her stomach do acrobatics that were entirely too uncomfortable. "Why?" Malfoy asked, suddenly, "Do you know him?"
Hermione relished in the opportunity to surprise the too-slick Slytherin, "Of course," she replied in a conspiratorial whisper, "Didn't you know? He is escorting my aunt and I this Season?"
"I didn't,"
Draco conceded, his charm dimming a bit at the news. Surprisingly, this made Hermione relax, even enjoy his presence. "Well
then," Draco chuckled, "Shall we scandalize him and take a stroll onto the balcony
for some air, my lady?"
Hermione laughed outright at
this, placing her arm on his as he led her from the floor, "Certainly, my lord.
As long as you promise not to pull anything?"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Draco smiled down at her. "Uncle Severus would disembowel me."
Did the girl have no sense? The boy was complete stranger. And a Slytherin at that! She had about a snowball's chance in hell at deceiving him in private! Severus would know. Draco was his protégé, in a sense.
Severus firmly pushed aside the jealousy he felt at seeing his prey in the arms of the attractive Slytherin. Rather than bursting out there, however, Severus hung back in the shadows to watch them and listen.
"So tell me, Lady Lupin, how did a pretty little Gryffindor like yourself manage to catch my uncle's attention?" Draco was drawling, as he leaned against the rail. She had one hand upon said rail, her face turned in profile towards Severus, facing the Malfoy heir.
"I don't know what you are talking about, my lord," she demurred, "Severus is doing this entirely as a favor to my aunt Minerva and my father."
Good girl, Severus thought, feed him a half-truth. He might just buy it.
"That cannot be his only reason, my dear," Draco's eyes were hooded now. He had sensed the evasion, "Everyone knows Uncle Severus does not do favors…" Damn.
"You have obviously never met my aunt," She pointed out, a smile tugging at her full lips.
"No," Draco conceded, his lids lifting to reveal his eyes once more, "a harridan, is she?" There was laughter in those grey eyes now.
"A powerful woman, to be sure," Hermione laughed. Her face lit up when she did that. Severus felt another stab of jealousy and decided to act on it this time.
"Draco!" He called, startling the two young people. He watched with some dismay as the smile dimmed on her face. "I see you have stolen my partner for the next waltz."
"Now why would she want to dance with you, when she could dance with me, Uncle Severus?" His question was clear. What is your claim on her?
She looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"Because she promised, Draco," Severus replied in a dangerously silky tone, "Besides, her aunt has said she wishes to return home after this dance. Do give an old man his turn." She is mine, whelp. Back off.
"You're not that old, Uncle Severus. Though your disposition is rather grouchy." Understood. Be nice.
"I have never claimed to be anything else." I won't change my spots.
"I'll leave you to it then." Good luck then. You'll need it.
"Hmph." Severus reached and took her arm, leading her back to the dance floor for the final waltz of the evening, he looked over his shoulders at his godson, "Come by tomorrow afternoon. I have some business to discuss with you."
Draco smirked at him. That look was much too knowing for Severus' comfort. "Of course. Goodnight, Severus. I hope to see you again, my lady. It was a pleasure."
She had a rather glazed look as she replied that the pleasure had been hers, and then they were on the floor, her warm hand in his, her soft body delightfully close. He also had a rather spectacular view of her cleavage. He nearly growled when he thought that others had been afforded the same view.
"Enjoying the view, your grace?" She asked through a rather forced looking smile.
"Immensely, my dear," he drawled in reply.
A flush rose on her cheeks. "Cad," she growled.
"Hm. If you don't want me to look, don't wear such appealing gowns."
"What I wear would be of no concern of a gentleman, your grace." She sounded positively furious.
"It's a good thing for both of us I am no such thing, then isn't it?"
"You bastard!"
The resounding crack of her slap in the suddenly silent room would be the talk of the ton for days.
TBC
A/N: There it is, the longest chapter I have ever written. Again a big thanks to Taya. Please review.
CezyAngel: I'm glad you like it, but unfortunately, I can make no promises of plot. This is a Regency Romance, or an attempt at one, and as my best friend pointed out, I'm not exactly going to need one to follow tradition. Plot is always secondary to relationships. I do sort of have a plot worked out, but whether or not I implement it, will depend on how the story writes itself…
Besa-chan: I quoted you up there . See? I hope you like this one. And between Taya and I, I think we got everything. Let me know if I missed anything. I always win, btw.
Wander Aimlessly: I've only read P&P myself, though I read the beginning of Emma, and am currently working through Sense and Sensibility, a long slow process, I'm afraid.
Fleria: Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure I can guarantee that such a phenomenon will never occur again. I'm horrible about updates, as you can see. The last time was special for my mom's birthday.
Vidgal: Glad you liked it, Mom.
JOdel: I'm trying for very late Regency. Her toilette, I have to admit, is mostly based on the mediocre amount of info available on the web, and some fashion plates.
Joshua Glass: If they killed each other, then where would the story be? Though I suppose their ghosts would have a good time haunting each other.
Thanks to everyone else who reviewed! I really, really appreciate it!