Chapter IX - Daddy's Girl
Hermione was immersed in a book. The only movement in the great plush room was every few minutes when she would turn the page. Then, suddenly she put the book down and grabbed a luxury eagle feather quill and began scratching away on the expensive thick parchment that she had been provided with for her home work.
The cost of the items was not the only change in the witch. Not long ago, she would have been slouching in her seat, bringing her face as close to the paper as possible. Now, she sat ramrod straight. She was wearing her purple silk pyjamas with a long beige over robe. this out fit was still appropriate seeing as how it was only eight o'clock in the morning.
The only thing that had not changed was her appearance. Blaise said that they would work on that last. They an appointment schduled for after the meeting with the wedding planner the next day.
There was a sudden knock on the door.
If this jolted Hermione, she did not show it. For the last month or so she had been put thorugh a crash course in ettiquette, from both her mother, Mercedes and Blaise, a Slytherin girl who was becoming dangerously close to being a friend.
"Come in." She called out.
The door opened, the footsteps that sounded were heavier than Mercedes's.
"Good morning, Mia."
The witch turned to see Philippe.
She had not spoken much with him since the day she had arrived. This time, the shock showed on her face. (She just didn't have the knack to keep her face bland and pleasant all the time.)
He was just as majestic as when she had first seen him, now however, he was wearing a pair of corduroys and what looked like a large University sweater that had a coat of arms at the breast. Hermione realized that it was the insignia of Hogwarts.
He looked so dad-like that she wasn't sure to laugh or to cry.
The only thing that was different from her own adoptive father was that Thomas was portly and his hair was already thinning, Philippe was fit and young. Also he was carrying a delicate Rosewood box in his hand.
"Good morning, er-Philippe."
He smiled.
"Not confortable with it yet,I see." he teased. "Not to worry, strumpet, you will eventually get used to me."
Hermione blushed.
"You are wondering whyI have not been more involved these past few weeks?" He asked. He was still standing, most people would look awkward but extensive pure blood training obviously ensured that Philippe would not look awkward in any given situation.
Hermione just stared at him blankly and then realized her own lapse in manners.
"Oh, Dear," She said. "Uh, please sit down."
Philippe's smile was wry as he sat and placed the box beside him. Now thst she got a better look at it she noticed that it was about the size of two of her larger books stacked one on top of the other, and if was covered in silver inlays of fleur-de-lis.
"You've caught me off guard." Hermione admitted. "I'm not really used to this... Merlin,I can't remember what to do-"
Philippe sighed.
"Mia, please." He said. "I am your father.I came here to tell you that you need not be polite and stiff with me. In fact I'd rather that you didn't-I'm not doing this, very well am I?"
Hermione had to crack a smile.
"I usually like to be the silent mysterious type." He went on, sparing her a rougish wink. Hermione nearly forgot that he was still the Prince of France. "Mercedes does most of the talking at gatherings.I like to keep things simple."
He paused then patted the place next to him. It was universal sign-language for 'please sit by me'.
"You have to understand that it isn't so easy to have your daughter just come back to you." He said his smile disappeared he suddenly looked very serious. The change was instant but complete, suddenly he was the mighty prince who wore power like a cloak and demanded respect. "I'm always scared thatI have made the wrong decision in leaving you to terrorize the muggle world." He paused, Hermione walked over and sat next to him. "I was afraid that you would be angry with me for giving you away.I hope that you know we did it to protect you, Mia."
Hermione smiled gently.
"I know." She said. "Don't worry.I understand."
The smile reappeared and he set aside the box for a moment to pull Hermione into a tight hug.
"I am forgiven at last." He said softly. "You cannot understand what a burden that has been over the years.'
hermione decided that she was not to respond to that. She looked down at the box, running her hands over it curiously.
"What's this?" She asked.
Instead of answering her, Philippe opened the box. Inside, it was lined with deep blue velvet, and resting on the velvet was the most delicate, most beautiful circlet of diamonds Hermione had ever seen. Not that she had seen all that many.
"Is this mine?" She managed to sputter.
Philippe chucked.
"It was your gradmother's." He said taking the tiara from its place and then gently placing it on Hermione's head. "It's belonged to every French Wizarding monarch in my family since the time of Queen Camille in the 1500's. And now its yours."
Hermione looked up at him. He a large proud grin on his face.
There was a sudden knock on the door.
"Come in." Hermione only just managed to say.
Mercedes walked in a serene smile on her face.
"So this is where everyone is." She exclaimed. She walked over to them, she stopped, however, when she saw the tiara. for a moment Hermione thought that Mercedes was just about to cry. "Well, Mia, it suits you perfectly."
Hermione smiled in pleasure.
"Thank you, maman." She said. "thank you, papa."
If the two Russeaux's noticed the subtle titles, they did not make a big deal out of them, which was exactly what Hermione hoped they'd do.
"Come Philippe, let us leave Mia to her own devices for now." Mercedes said as she pulled her husband out of the room. "Remember Mia, you have a planning session tomorrow, for your wedding! Narcissa andI have been exited for weeks."
Hermione nodded dumbly.
"Yes, and I have been less excited." Philippe said. "The more you plan, the more I have to spend."
Right, her wedding, that was qute enough to burst the happiness for the famillial moment.
As they closed the door behind her, Philippe and Mercedes exchanged looks.
"When she was a baby she was a daddy's girl." Mercedes said matter of factly. "And it seems to me that she still is."
Philippe broke into a goofy smile.
"Aw, 'Cedess, you're just jealous."
Mercedes glanced back at the door and then shook her head.
"No." She answred with all seriousness. "No, I'm not."