Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter or the Selection series. I'm just getting my fantasies out on the page.
The Drawing
Chapter Three
"Oh good, you're here."
Ginny yanked Hermione into the house and slammed the door behind her. Hermione would've laughed if she wasn't such a bundle of nerves. She was quickly ushered into the living area where the rest of the Weasley family was waiting, taking a seat next to Ron and giving him a small smile. Ginny began pacing in front of the radio, wringing her hands anxiously. Ron nudged Hermione with his elbow and rolled his eyes at his sister. On a regular day, Hermione would've joined in on the ribbing of Ginny. But tonight, Hermione couldn't blame Ginny for her nervous pacing, nor could she blame Molly for her non-stop chattering.
After all, tonight was the night the Ladies of the Drawing would be picked.
Hermione desperately wished that her mother could be there with her. Unfortunately, she had to work that night. Since so many of the salon's employees had applied for the Drawing, there was to be a huge party for everyone who worked there. And, because the salon already had a bunch of Fives working for them, they decided to forgo hiring more Fives and just used the ones they had on staff. The salon also had a Telefloo so Hermione's mother would be one of the lucky few Fives to be able to watch the broadcast.
"-right, Hermione?"
"Huh?"
Hermione turned and saw Ron looking at her with an annoyed expression. "Really?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I didn't think you'd go all crazy over this stupid thing."
"Ronald," Molly chastised at the same time as Ginny trilled, "It's not stupid!"
"What?" Ron asked defensively.
"How can you be so insensitive?" George piped up, sounding appalled.
Fred placed a hand over his chest, giving his younger brother an incredulous glare, "This is the Drawing!"
"Knock it off," Molly snapped, giving her sons hard looks. "This is important to both Ginny and Hermione."
Hermione shot a grateful look to her friend as Ron scoffed again. Although Hermione didn't tell Molly much about her visit with her father, the older woman seemed to intuitively know what was going on. Instead of coddling Hermione like she had been afraid of, Molly didn't say anything on the matter but became fiercely protective of her whenever someone commented that entering the Drawing was uncharacteristic of Hermione.
Ginny gave her brothers a scathing look and continued her pacing around the room. Hermione stared at the ancient clock on the wall, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.
Ten minutes.
Five minutes.
The closer the large hand got to the top of the hour, the more Hermione began to panic. She needed this. It wasn't like Ginny's situation where she would be fine if she wasn't selected. This was her last chance to save her father. If she wasn't picked, her father's fate was sealed.
At that thought, tears pricked at Hermione's eyes and her breath hitched.
"Are you alright?" Ron asked quietly, hearing the shift in Hermione's breathing.
"I – uh, yeah," she replied shakily, swallowing hard. "I'm just… I just really want this."
Ron frowned and opened his mouth only to shut it quickly, glancing fearfully at his mother. He turned back to Hermione and stared at her with an intense expression. Finally, Ron nodded as if he came to some sort of conclusion and said softly, "I hope you get it, then."
Hermione smiled at him and exhaled loudly, glancing again at the clock.
One minute.
Thirty seconds.
Ginny's squeal made Hermione jump as the Hogwarts Express's opening jingle began to play.
"Gooooood evening ladies and gentlemen!" Lee Jordan cried out. There must have been a larger crowd than usual because his greeting was drowned out by cheers. He laughed merrily although it sounded slightly eerie thanks to the static of the Wireless. "Oh, I love this! The energy, the anticipation! Oooh, I'm getting excited."
Again, the crowd went nuts. Ginny was practically vibrating as she waved her hand in an impatient manner. "Get on with it."
Molly shushed her.
"Are you ready to witness history being made tonight?" Lee asked. Hermione felt herself begin to sweat. "Now before we get to the main event, I was thinking it'd be nice for Prince Harry if his father gave him some words of wisdom."
There was more cheering. Hermione's hands became so clammy she had to wipe them off on her pants.
"Yes, put me on the spot," King James replied dryly. There was laughter. He cleared his throat and there was a pause. "I know how scary this is for you, son. I was terrified when I began my Drawing but it soon became one of the best experiences of my life. My advice is to trust your gut. Don't over think things. If it feels right, then it is. People told me your mother wouldn't be the right fit as Hogwarts' queen, but I trusted my gut instinct and I have never regretted a single day since marrying your mother."
The crowd sighed. "Oh, I remember that," Molly said, smiling softly. "It was so romantic."
George mock gagged and had a crumpled-up piece of paper thrown at him.
"Alright, let's start this!" Lee announced and again the cheers overpowered his voice. "As you can see our set up is a bit different from usual. Each of these bowls contains the applications of many lovely women from each province. Prince Harry, all you have to do is select four envelopes from each bowl and read them out. Easy peasy. Who will we be starting with?"
"Let's start with…" Prince Harry began. He sounded nervous. Hermione felt her knee begin to bounce. "The province of Hufflepuff."
There was more cheering and a drumroll built up the tension. After a pause, Prince Harry announced, "Miss Hannah Abbott – Three."
After the applause died down, the drumroll began again. "Miss Parvati Patil – Three."
Hermione exhaled shakily. She wasn't sure she wanted to go through with this anymore.
"Miss Susan Bones – Four."
She was insane for thinking this was a good idea.
"Miss Angelina Johnson – Three."
"And that makes up our Hufflepuff drawings," Lee called out over the applause, "Next province, Your Highness?"
"Let's go with Gryffindor."
Hermione felt physically ill as the drumroll began. Ginny bounced on the balls of her feet and glared at the radio, her brow scrunched up. No one spoke and Fred even leaned forward in anticipation.
"Miss Cho Chang – Three."
Hermione managed a small look with Molly. They mainly worked over at the Chang residence but never had to interact with her. Hermione was glad for that – the Fives that had the pleasure of working with Cho Chang had nothing nice to say.
"Miss Katie Bell – Three."
Hermione's eyes began to dart around the room, looking for a garbage bin. She really was going to be sick.
"Miss Hermione Granger – Five." Prince Harry sounded pleasantly surprised as he called out her name.
The Weasleys reacted immediately, Molly jumping up and rushing to Hermione, screaming the entire way. She pulled the young woman into a bone crushing hug as tears of relief poured from Hermione's eyes. Ron was shaking her arm and chanting, "You got it! You got it!"
Hermione couldn't believe her luck. Her entire body was shaking in Molly's hug. She had been chosen. She had been chosen.
Her father had a chance.
"Quiet!" Ginny shouted. "There's still one more girl to be picked."
Hermione saw Molly purse her lips at her daughter's outburst. She leaned against her and closed her eyes, trying to control her emotions. At this point, she couldn't care less who else was picked.
Prince Harry chuckled, "Miss Ginny Weasley – Five."
Molly screamed right into Hermione's ear.
The rest of that night passed in a blur. Hermione's mother came screaming into the Weasley household, practically body checking Charlie out of her way in her haste to get to her daughter. There was food and Bill had somehow managed to get a hold of some Firewhiskey. Neighbours came flooding to both the Weasley and the Granger residences, all of them completely ecstatic that not only did two Fives get into the Drawing, but Fives that had grown up together.
Hermione woke up the next day just before noon, her head throbbing from the Firewhiskey she'd had the night before. She groaned, rubbing her face as her stomach rolled unpleasantly. As the haze of sleep went away, she became aware of the low sound of conversation coming from within her house. She frowned, pulling herself out of bed and went to go investigate the noise.
Hermione followed the voices and was surprised to see her mother wasn't alone in the kitchen. An impeccably dressed woman in a red pantsuit and perfectly styled hair looked completely out of place in their dingy little kitchen. Hermione's mother seemed enthusiastic as they spoke while the mystery woman's sharp blue eyes kept darting around the room.
"Oh, Hermione!" Her mother jumped up once she'd spotted her and ushered her over to the table. "I was just about to wake you up. You have a visitor."
That much was obvious but Hermione managed to bite back her retort and looked towards the woman. She quickly stood up from her chair and brushed out non-existent creases from her pantsuit.
"Lady Hermione," she greeted, "let me be one of the first to congratulate you for getting into the Drawing." The woman's tone was all business. Hermione couldn't tell if the woman was genuine or not – she was guessing the latter. "My name is Amelia Bones. I am one of the overseers for this Drawing and have been sent to go over some of legal aspects before you are to arrive at the castle."
"Oh." Hermione blinked. Of course they would send someone to do that sort of thing. She couldn't imagine the type of security risk the castle would be facing by having so many new people arriving there. "Of course. Before that, do you mind if I quickly change?"
Amelia's eyes darted over Hermione's frame before offering a professional smile. "Not at all, Lady Hermione."
Hermione sprinted back to her room and tore off her pyjamas. She grabbed the nicest pair of capris and shirt she owned and quickly threw them on. After brushing her teeth in record time, Hermione was seated at the small table in between her mother and Amelia.
"Let's get started, shall we?" Amelia pulled a briefcase onto the table and opened it with a satisfying click, grabbing two folders and sliding one across to Hermione. She picked it up and opened it, looking at the very legal looking documents inside. "Don't worry about having to read all of those on your own, I will be going through them so you understand your duties. You'll be signing two copies, one for your records and one for ours."
Hermione nodded, starting to feel overwhelmed as her head pounded painfully.
"The first thing you have to understand is that while the Drawing is a very public event, you are not to speak of anything we discuss here with anyone outside of this room. This includes other Ladies of the Drawing." Amelia paused, giving a hard look at both Hermione and her mother. They both nodded their consent. "You are a bit of a special circumstance since you have a prior relationship with one of the other ladies. Still, these rules must be in effect at all times. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," Hermione whispered.
Amelia reached into her briefcase and pulled out two large jars. "You need to understand that by being a part of the Drawing, you are agreeing that the Crown has rights over your body. That means that you have a duty to be healthy and in fit condition at all times during the Drawing. A more decisive plan will be put into place after your doctor's appointment today, but starting now you will make sure to take these vitamins and supplements once a day, every day."
Hermione stared at the jars as Amelia slid them across the table, her mouth popping open. Oh dear lord, what had she gotten herself into?
"That's the first page," Amelia pointed out, producing a pen. "Sign at the bottom and we can continue."
Hermione glanced at her mother, who gave her a reassuring nod, and signed her name on the dotted line.
"Next," Amelia continued, "is probably one of the most important things. The document in front of you explains that you will not harm or sabotage any of the other ladies during the Drawing. If it is found that you have had any part in a lady being hurt or sabotaged you will be eliminated immediately.
"On the subject of elimination, while you are at the castle you will be there for Prince Harry and Prince Harry alone. Starting any relations with someone else is grounds for immediate expulsion and punishment."
"Punishment?" Hermione asked, her eyes going wide. "What type of punishment? And why?"
Amelia's eyes hardened and she stared Hermione down. Hermione fought to not fidget under the stern woman's piercing gaze. "The act of a Lady of the Drawing being in a relationship with anyone other than the prince is seen as treason and will be tried accordingly."
Hermione felt herself pale. Her mother audibly swallowed. Not that she planned on being in a relationship with anyone at the palace – she didn't even want to be in a relationship with the prince – but Hermione felt that was an extremely harsh and unfair punishment.
Amelia cleared her throat, her eyes dropping to the document in front of her as she continued, "Please sign at the bottom of the page so we can continue."
Hermione hesitated for a brief moment before she quickly signed her name.
"Lastly," Amelia said, flipping to the final document, "is the non-disclosure agreement. The other documents have briefly touched on this but this is the formal agreement. You are not allowed to talk about anything you've learned about any of the royal family, any secrets that you may have stumbled across, or the process leading up to the Drawing with anyone. Not the ladies, not the press, no one. Failure to do so will be grounds for expulsion and a fine."
It blew Hermione's mind that leaking secrets of the royal family had a lesser punishment than being caught with someone other than the prince. How horrible of a person was Prince Harry that they had to have all of these rules? Were these rules always for the Drawing? Hermione supposed she would never know.
Hermione signed her name on the final document and that was that. Hermione's mother took the folder and jars of vitamins and put them away as Amelia snapped her briefcase shut.
"Any questions?" she asked.
"How long will the Drawing last for?" her mother asked.
"The Drawing will last until Prince Harry choses a wife. It could take a couple of months or a year."
Hermione's eyes bugged at the thought. "I have to be at the castle for that long?" she squeaked.
Amelia's eyebrow raised delicately at Hermione's outburst. "You will be at the castle for as long as the prince wishes." Hermione bristled at her superior tone. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. I highly doubt the Drawing will take years."
Hermione grumbled under her breath. Amelia was starting to get up when she suddenly thought of another question. "Um, the weekly stipend that had been mentioned?"
Amelia held up her hand and Hermione stopped talking. "The check will be delivered in a week," she said.
"And my work?"
"What work?" Amelia scoffed. Hermione frowned. "I took the liberty of speaking to your bosses and telling them you'll no longer be employed."
"You did what?" Hermione cried. She could only imagine how Mrs. Pince reacted to that. She winced, feeling sorry for the others working for her.
"Oh, relax." Amelia rolled her eyes. "The official helping with Lady Ginny did the same. The two of you will be much too busy to be working before leaving for the castle."
Hermione snapped her mouth shut and glowered at the pristine woman in front of her, her defenses up at her smug tone. Her mother looked anxiously between the two of them. "Hermione, love, I have to leave for work soon," she said, eyeing Amelia warily. "But I can stay if you want me to…"
"It'll be fine," Hermione replied reluctantly. Her mother nodded. "I'll see you when you get home?"
Her mother nodded, gave a timid smile to Amelia and quickly left.
Amelia looked at her wristwatch and sighed. "Well you'll just have to go to the city like that - we don't have time for you to change." Hermione glanced down at her clothes; she thought she looked nice. Amelia pulled out a wooden block from her bag and held it out.
Hermione stared at the block, unsure of what she was supposed to do. Amelia jostled it and said, "Grab onto it, we only have a minute left."
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, hesitantly reaching out and grasping the block. She felt foolish holding onto it and wondered if this was some prank Amelia had decided to play on her. Before she could open her mouth to voice that thought, the room suddenly began to spin violently and Hermione felt a tug come from her stomach. The next thing she knew, she was skidding across the floor of what looked like some sort of office.
Amelia didn't stumble at all and walked over to a large basket filled with random objects, dropping the wooden block into it. She glanced at Hermione. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so," Hermione responded. She got up from the floor shakily, brushing herself off. The shock of being moved so suddenly was beginning to wear off and a small sense of accomplishment replaced it. She had used a magical object and it was done legally!
Amelia opened the door and walked out of the room, beckoning Hermione to follow her. She hurried after the older woman and noticed with a start that they were now in the reception area of St. Mungo's hospital.
"What are we doing here?"
"It's time for your doctor's appointment," Amelia said. "I mentioned it before?"
"Oh. Right." Hermione frowned. She bit her lip and glanced over at the other woman. "Do you think there would be time to visit my father? He's here in the hospital and…" she trailed off.
Amelia sighed. "I don't want to get your hopes up," she said, her expression softening slightly. "We have a lot to do and not enough time to do it. The best I can say is maybe."
Hermione's face fell and she looked down at the floor, nodding glumly. Amelia coughed awkwardly and beckoned her to follow.
"Miss Granger!" The head nurse bolted up from her desk and rushed over to the couple as they approached. She looked like she was restraining herself from grabbing hold of Hermione as she gushed, "Oh my goodness, I can't believe it! Congratulations!"
"Um, thanks." Hermione felt herself flush. A hush fell over the room as people turned to look at them.
Amelia cleared her throat. "I believe we set up an appointment for Lady Hermione earlier…?"
The nurse turned a pretty shade of pink and sputtered out an apology, hurrying back to her desk. She picked up a file. "Yes, you did. Doctor Gustoff was called away for an emergency so it may take a little longer than you expected."
"Can I see Doctor Quill instead?" Hermione blurted out. Amelia looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "He's been amazing with my father. I trust him."
Amelia looked like she wanted to argue but instead nodded reluctantly, "Fine, only if he's quick about it."
Five minutes later Hermione was sitting in an exam room, glancing around at the different medical posters on the wall. It was so difficult not to just sprint down to where she knew her father was resting but she didn't want to test Amelia's patience. She'd just have to go another day now that she didn't have to work.
There was a knock at the door and Doctor Quill walked into the room, a huge smile on his face. "I can't believe it," he said in greeting, walking to the chair in front of Hermione and sitting down. "You, my dear, are one lucky woman."
"I can't believe it, either," Hermione replied with a shaky laugh. "This all feels like some sort of dream."
"Well, congratulations either way."
Hermione nodded and licked her lips. "About Dad's surgery – I won't be able to pay for it right away but…"
Doctor Quill smiled softly and patted her knee. "I'll put him on the list as soon as we're finished here," he promised.
"Thank you," Hermione breathed.
Doctor Quill smiled at her and began to flip through her chart. "Let's get started on this, shall we?" he said. "I understand you're under a tight schedule."
Doctor Quill finished the examination and concluded that Hermione was as healthy as someone from Five could be. With that bit of knowledge, he sent her on her way, promising to stop into her father's room to share the good news with him.
Amelia stood up when she saw Hermione return, tossing the magazine she was reading onto the table. "Everything good?" she asked.
"Doctor Quill said I'm a bit underweight but otherwise healthy," Hermione reported.
"As I thought," Amelia nodded to herself. She motioned for Hermione to follow her as they left the hospital. "The results will be sent to our healers and a plan will be put into place for you.
"What's next, then?" Hermione asked, having to hurry to keep up with her.
"The spa is next. The rest of the afternoon will be getting you prepared for the makeover next week. Then, if we have time, we'll get you some newer clothes that you can be photographed in."
"Wait – makeover?" Hermione asked incredulously. "What if I don't want a makeover?"
"That's not really your decision," Amelia shrugged. "Remember that you signed a contractual agreement stating that the Crown owns your body. Personal hygiene falls under that category. Not to mention you'll be in the public eye for months, having your picture taken, being filmed for the Hogwarts Express, and you'll be meeting some very influential – and powerful – people. We can't have you looking like a Five, now can we?"
"But I am a Five."
Amelia turned and smiled at Hermione, although the smile looked more threatening than comforting. "Not anymore," she pointed out. "You are, as of today, a Two."
Once they reached the spa, Hermione was whisked away by three ladies. Amelia trailed after them, watching with cool eyes as Hermione was buffed, waxed, and plucked within an inch of her life. Every so often she'd interject before a spa technician did something that she didn't agree with.
"No, no. Don't put any nail polish on."
"She's to have perfect skin."
"I want her eyebrows to be defined but leave us enough to work with next week for the final look."
"Leave her hair for now, I guess."
Finally, after what seemed like hours of torture, Hermione was placed in front of a mirror. She could admit that she looked more put together than she had before; although parts of her skin were bright red from the waxing and plucking she had to endure.
"Well, it's a start," Amelia said, nodding. She turned to the spa technicians and thanked them.
Hermione grit her teeth. Her patience for the woman was running thin thanks to the thinly veiled insults Amelia shot at her throughout the entire afternoon. She forced herself to say nothing. It wouldn't do any good for her father if she lost her temper and got kicked out of the Drawing before it even began.
Just remember, this is all for Dad. You can do this, Hermione.
The sun was just starting to set when Hermione and Amelia left the spa. Amelia sighed, glancing at her wristwatch. "We have time for maybe one shop," she announced, turning around and walking away without making sure Hermione followed.
Hermione was led to a street filled with boutiques and followed Amelia into the first one. The bell jingled above the door merrily and a peppy looking young woman appeared at their side.
"Good afternoon," she chirped. Her high-pitched voice grated on Hermione but she forced herself to smile. "How can I help you today?"
"We just need a few outfits for her – something plain yet classy."
The young woman nodded and turned to look at Hermione. She stared at her for a few seconds and then her eyes went wide with recognition. "You're Hermione Granger!" she all but squealed.
Hermione flinched at the pitch of her voice but nodded. "Yeah, that's me."
"My name is Beth and it's so nice to meet you." Beth grabbed Hermione's hand and shook it eagerly. She dropped her hand and sprinted off to the racks of clothing, pulling out different articles.
Hermione stared at Beth, not sure how to act towards the young woman. Beside her, Amelia smirked. "Get used to it," she muttered quietly. "You're a celebrity now."
Beth pulled Hermione into a change room and shoved the clothes at her, instructing her to put on the outfits and come out. Hermione put on the first dress, scrunching her nose up at the length of the skirt (it barely reached her thigh), and walked out.
"Absolutely not," Amelia said immediately and for once, Hermione was grateful for the pushy woman's input.
The next hour went on the in a similar fashion. Beth had brought Hermione many different outfits and most of them were vetoed almost as soon as Hermione stepped out of the change room. Amelia did decide on three outfits and they were soon paid for and out the door.
"This isn't coming out of my stipend, is it?" Hermione asked.
Amelia looked almost insulted at Hermione's question and scoffed, "Of course not – all this is provided by the royal family."
Hermione nodded and followed Amelia down the street. She noticed a sleek, black car waiting at the end of the block and frowned once she realized Amelia was headed straight for it. "We aren't taking a portkey back?"
"I didn't know how long this afternoon would take," Amelia said. A man jumped out of the car, dressed smartly in a black suit, and took the bags from Hermione. "We'll be driving back tonight."
"Oh." Hermione fought the disappointment that swelled in her. She wanted to experience magic again. The man put the bags into the boot of the car and then ran around to the side, opening the door for them.
Amelia got into the car and Hermione followed after her. She'd never been in a car before and was slightly surprised at the amount of room they had in the back seat. She watched Amelia put on her seatbelt and quickly did the same. The driver got back into the car and drove off.
"You're lucky we found everything you needed at that one shop," Amelia commented idly.
Hermione nodded, extremely thankful. That afternoon was an experience she never wanted to go through again. "Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"
"Of course," she said, frowning at Hermione. "You'll have someone with you every day. If it's not me, it'll be either Peter or Severus. We only have five days to get you somewhat ready."
"Is there really that much work I have to do before I leave?" Hermione asked dubiously
"I don't think you understand the disadvantage you have right now," Amelia said.
"What do you mean?"
"You have had to serve people your entire life. You've been pushed to the side, taught not to draw attention to yourself, and let others take the spotlight for things you may have accomplished. Am I wrong?"
Hermione didn't respond and just stared at Amelia.
"That can't happen when the Drawing begins. Those girls are out for blood and will sense your weakness within seconds." Amelia snapped her fingers. "They'll make your life a living hell."
"So, all of those little jabs you took at me today were just to prepare me for that?" Hermione scoffed.
Amelia looked like she wanted to argue with Hermione but instead closed her eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. "If you don't understand how the higher castes are supposed to act, you'll be gone within the first week," she said, sounding like she was forcing herself to stay calm. "How are you going to pay for your father's surgery then?"
Hermione's eyes widened and she stared opened mouthed at the woman. "How did you – "
Amelia gave a patronizing smile. "Do you really think the royal family didn't look into everyone's background?" she asked condescendingly. "Prince Harry might not know about your father but believe me when I say all of the royal advisors do. It took them no time at all to piece together why you entered."
Hermione glared at Amelia but didn't respond. She felt backed into a corner and didn't know how to proceed.
"Believe it or not, Lady Hermione, I'm trying to help you," Amelia said in a softer voice. "The lower castes that were chosen are at a severe disadvantage and it just wouldn't be fair if nothing was done to prepare them. It was decided that anyone under Three would get proper training - a crash course in royal etiquette, if you will."
"And I suppose all this is under the privacy contract I signed earlier," Hermione said dryly.
"I knew you were a smart girl," Amelia smirked. "We just want Fives and Fours to be on the same level as Threes. That way you won't make any crucial errors. And before you ask, yes, it is a popularity contest," she said before Hermione could interrupt her. "If you say or do something that is questionable and you're well-liked by the public, it will be seen as quirky or brave. If you aren't well-liked, well…" Amelia trailed off and shrugged.
Hermione sat back and digested everything that had been said to her. The Drawing was sounding more and more like a political battle than anything else. She wasn't sure how to get people to like her – she wasn't even sure she wanted them to like her. But she had to try.
Amelia produced her wand and waved it, making Hermione jump. A large stack of papers appeared out of thin air and she stared, awestruck at them. Hermione wasn't privy to watching magic often and she felt a longing to see it again.
"I want you to read these over until you have them memorized," Amelia instructed, handing over the large stack.
Hermione looked down and saw a small picture of a pretty blonde woman. The name underneath the picture read Hannah Abbott.
"Are these the Drawing applications?" Hermione asked.
"Each girl is given them to study. Some won't do more than look at the pictures, but I highly recommend you study them. You can tell a lot about these girls from their answers. You know, keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that."
Hermione nodded and settled in, looking down at Hannah's picture once again. There was certain innocence about her with her twinkling blue eyes and pink cheeks. As Hermione read through Hannah's answers to the questionnaire, she noticed that they sounded extremely generic. Hannah loved girly things, disliked gross things, and her idea of a perfect date was a candlelit dinner on a balcony underneath the stars.
Turning the page, Hermione looked at the picture of the next girl, Alicia Spinnet. She didn't have a beauty by society's standards, but her brown eyes surrounded by dark, lush eyelashes gave her a striking appearance. In a stark contrast to Hannah, Alicia was tomboyish in her answers and fiercely loyal. Hermione smirked at Alicia's perfect date; an afternoon spent racing broomsticks.
Hermione turned the page to the next girl, a pretty redheaded woman with an uncertain smile. She frowned as she read the name, "Susan Bones?"
Amelia jumped at the sudden exclamation, "Excuse me?"
"Your last name is Bones too, right?" Hermione asked, holding up Susan's picture.
"Yes, it is," Amelia said, sounding surprised. "Susan is my niece if you must know."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Why aren't you helping her then? She's a Four, right? Won't she be getting the 'crash course' as well?"
Amelia looked slightly flustered at Hermione's question. A small part of Hermione felt gleeful as she watched the woman quickly try to compose herself. "I wanted to," she admitted. "But others thought I would give her an unfair advantage so I was assigned to Gryffindor instead."
Hermione nodded and went back to staring at Susan's picture. Amelia's hostility towards her was a bit clearer now. In Amelia's eyes, she was helping her niece's enemy.
Hermione swallowed and sat back, watching as the countryside sped by.
What had she gotten herself into?
[o][o][o]
By the end of the week, Hermione was convinced it was Amelia's main objective to make her life as miserable as possible. The older woman was relentless, spewing all sorts of different facts about the rules and regulations of royal etiquette that Hermione just didn't care about. She highly doubted she would be ostracized for not knowing the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork, but Amelia thought otherwise.
It took two days until Hermione finally managed to get a grasp on what she was being taught. She was happy it was over; there were only a few days left until she was to go to the palace and surely mastering the materials meant she had time to visit her father.
Oh, how wrong Hermione was.
"It's one thing to know, but doing is an entirely different game," Amelia snipped, ignoring Hermione's groan of protest.
The curtsying was the worst. Hermione didn't think it would be such a hard thing to master; after all she was just bending her knees. However, after an entire afternoon of practicing the motion, she concluded she was absolutely horrid at it. It had been so bad at one point that Amelia lost her temper, throwing her pen down onto the floor and yelling, "You're supposed to be curtsying, not popping a squat for God's sake!"
It was to Hermione's great relief hours later that she had finally mastered the curtsy. She sat down on the couch, her thigh muscles screaming at her, and ran a hand through her hair. Amelia looked pleased and was gathering up her things. "I'll let you rest for the night," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "But I do want you to go over the applications a couple of times."
Hermione nodded. She had gone over them so many times she felt like she knew the girls already. But Hermione learned it was best not to argue with what Amelia told her and just go with it.
"Oh, Peter will be here instead of me tomorrow. He'll be going over revision but he's a lot harsher than I am, so be prepared."
Peter was a greasy little man that reminded Hermione of a rat. She had disliked him almost instantly when he arrived at her house and banished her mother from the sitting area, saying that she was a distraction. Hermione could tell he had a lot of self-importance and it didn't matter how many times Hermione had told him Amelia went over things, he believed the woman had done it wrong and insisted on going over it again just to make sure.
Hermione didn't think she'd ever see the day when she wished Amelia was there.
"Now Lady Hermione," Peter said, his watery little eyes taking in her appearance. They had finally finished for the day and Hermione wanted nothing more than to get the man out of her house. "There are some… legal details I wish to clarify with you."
"I thought Amelia went over those earlier."
"Well, in a way." Peter's smile sent a chill down Hermione's spine. "Now that you are part of the Drawing, you're considered to be the royal family's personal property."
A sense of fear flickered at the base of Hermione's skull and she straightened up. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, my dear girl, if a member of the royal family were to ask anything of you… well, you wouldn't exactly be allowed to say no, now would you?" Peter gave a slimy smile and dipped his head. "Just thought I'd let you know. Oh. And consider this part of the privacy clause as well. Have a good night, my lady."
Hermione collapsed onto the sofa as Peter let himself out, her eyes wide and unseeing in front of her. Did Peter mean what she thought he meant? Her pulse quickened and she swallowed hard. Prince Harry didn't seem like that type of person. He would never try anything like that on her, right?
Hermione wasn't feeling too sure about the answer.
Amelia noticed Hermione's darkened mood when she returned the next day. She kept asking Hermione what was wrong but Hermione brushed her off, instead focusing on everything Amelia had taught her. She managed to avoid answering her questions until the final day before Hermione was to leave for the palace.
"If you're going to act like this all the time you're not going to stand a chance," Amelia hissed. "What is going on in that head of yours?"
"It's nothing," Hermione lied quickly. "I'm just worried I'll forget something or mess up."
Hermione could tell Amelia didn't believe her answer. She pursed her lips and frowned at the young woman. "Remember what I've been teaching you and you won't," she hissed angrily. "But you better shape up or you can say goodbye to the money for your father's surgery."
Hermione winced and nodded, looking down at her hands.
"I know there's a big dinner planned for you and Lady Ginny so you best get ready for it," Amelia said flatly. "But make sure to get plenty of rest, I'll be here at eight tomorrow morning and we catch the train at nine."
Amelia turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, the door slamming loudly behind her.
"Hermione?" Hermione's mother asked, entering the room cautiously. Hermione's lower lip began to quiver but she refused to let the tears fall. She had cried so much within the past couple of weeks and she wouldn't allow herself to continue. She had to be strong if she was going to do this. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
Hermione shook her head, allowing a single tear to drop. She quickly wiped it away and stood up. "Just feeling a little overwhelmed," she answered, allowing her mother to pull her into hug.
"You're going to be amazing," her mother whispered loyally, sounding a bit choked up herself, "Prince Harry is going to love you."
Hermione snorted and pulled away from her mother. "Somehow I doubt that," she replied. She turned and went into her bedroom to change for what she knew would be the last dinner at the Weasleys for a very long time.
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Getting into the good stuff now! Remember, leave a review to let me know what you think!
Cheers,
HP