Disclaimer: Why are you reading this? All it is gonna say is I don't own it blah blah blah yeah boring!
A/n: okay sorry it took me so long to post this chapter it was just really boring to write it. Also this is rather IMPORTANT... I will be away for a few days and I don't know if I will be able to post anything for like four to six days. So keep that in mind and enjoy the chapter.
Without a Home: Chapter 9
Draco Malfoy it seemed had it all. Well Hermione had come to that conclusion from walking around on the grounds. Already she had passed a pool and a quidditch field. Now she was entering a garden that she found.
The garden was a rainbow of color. Flowers of all kinds were growing. Both muggle and wizard plants of so many different colors. There were plants growing everywhere. Morning glories growing up the metal fence that went around the perimeter of the garden, white lilies floated lazily in the pond, roses of many different colors were protected by their thorns, and oh she couldn't even name all of the flowers.
The garden was truly a magical sight to see. The scent of the flowers played in Hermione's nose. The sound of fountains sounded like music in her ears. And the sight of it all made her eyes dance with delight. It was such a peaceful place here.
Statues stood tall surrounded by petals of color. Fountains poured water down merrily. An old swing hung from a fruit tree. Hermione yearned to know what secrets the garden had. She wanted to ask the tulip what had happened here. Or ask the violet what wonders had occurred here. Did a baby Malfoy fall asleep in his mother's arms as she swung him to sleep in that swing? Did weddings, ceremonies, and parties occur here?
Hermione wandered through the garden her heart for once was filled with joy at all of the beautiful sights around her. She continued to wander occasionally stopping to sniff a flower or admire a rare wizard plant. She was too busy inhaling the scent of lavender to realize that she was about to run into a statue.
"Ow!" Hermione rubbed her head at the throbbing spot on her head.
Slowly she looked up at what she had run into. A white statue of an angel stared down at her. The gaze of the angel was calm yet somehow pained. The angel seemed emotionless at first, but when you really looked she was sad. The pain on her head forgotten Hermione stood up and stared at the angel. She was beautiful and depressed. It just seemed like the angel was singing a sad song that you could only hear in your heart. It was a bittersweet song that filled your eyes with tears and put a smile on your face all at the same time.
"Why would the Malfoys have a statue like this in their garden?" She asked out loud to no one in particular.
It certainly did not belong in a Malfoy garden. Yet she had to wonder was this colorful garden the only bright thing in a Malfoy's life?
Deciding that she should check out the rest of the grounds Hermione left the garden and the angel behind. Perhaps she would come back another day. To swing or relax in that garden sounded nice. Yes she would have to do that. Or maybe she could buy a swimming suit tomorrow on their shopping trip and then she could swim in the pool. Well once she had some of her strength back. She was already feeling tired and weak, but she continued on. Determined to see more of the grounds. Hermione just wanted to know more about her current home and plus there was no way she would find her way back to her room.
Plus she had always ignored those moments of physical weakness. In Hogwarts she had always read books till she passed out and worked on her homework till she fell asleep with her parchment as a pillow.
Yes she could continue on. She would be just fine. Hermione Granger could do anything that she put her mind to.
Her eyes lit up when she saw another metal gate and she walked toward it to open it. Not even bothering to see what lay beyond the gate.
Her fingertips touched the cool metal as she fiddled with the latch. God why was this one so hard to open? It was so rusty and looked like it wasn't used very often or maybe not at all. She struggled to open it. Pushing and pulling the latch. Finally the latch began to move and she was able to open a very creaky gate.
'They need to put oil on that gate or something to make it easier to open,' Hermione thought a little frustrated from the latch incident.
"Now let's see where I am," Hermione muttered to herself taking her first look at her surroundings.
She was surrounded by more statues. With names on the bottom of the statue. She examined one of the names on an old statue. The letters were quite hard to read as there were cracks running through the letters.
Here lies
Elizabeth Malfoy
October 3rd 1821- November 22nd 1885
What? A gravestone? Is that what all of these were. Now that she looked around her everything didn't really look like plain statues anymore. Just rather fancy gravestones and ornately carved statues of angels and such.
The wind blew through the air. Sending dead leaves up into the air where they swirled and danced around her. Nothing seemed to be cared for here. The leaves that fell in the fall never were raked. No flowers seemed to cover the graves. It just didn't look like a normal grave yard.
Around and around the leaves danced giving the whole graveyard an eerie look. Hermione walked around. Most of the graves were faded and old. Yet she saw a couple of new graves over to her right.
She slowly made her way to them. She bent over to look at the words carved in stone. Carved in the gravestone.
Here lies
Lucius Malfoy
December 12th 1960- March 1st 2006
He had never looked like he was 46 years old. Then again the Malfoy family had always been a good-looking family. Plus they were wealthy enough that they could go have their skin professionally cared for as often as they wanted.
Here lies
Nacrissa Malfoy
July 30th 1961- March 1st 2006
Hermione was starting to get nervous about being here. She shouldn't be here. She didn't know why she shouldn't but she just had a feeling that she shouldn't. She started walking backwards towards the gate being very silent as if the deceased Malfoys would waken from death if she made enough noise. She winced as a twig broke underneath her feet. She felt the gate behind her and started to fiddle with the latch. Yet her hand stopped when she felt another hand on top of hers.