Princess Pauper Syndrome

DISCLAIMER: Not own Harry Potter...pouts

AN: At long last I've finally set aside time to type and ponder and ponder some more on my long forgotten fics. If any of the past readers are still here, and have stuck it out with me despite my extremely staggered and slow pace, I am very most definitely very grateful. Read and Review!

AN2: Beta-d.

THE MADNESS OF MISTRESS ANYA

Hermione threw open her door and sent one of the antique vases crashing to the floor.

Son of a...

She pulled out her wand and muttered a quick "Reparo," and had the vase looking good as new. Her day was not looking good at all. She thought that by making nice with Narcissa, Draco and Lidya, she would be able to have more freedom in what she does. For example, getting off of the estate by herself or ditching the wedding preparations. She thought wrong.

Hermione was taken in by their wedding planning and she lost track of her plans. She found herself making suggestions on what the bride's maids should be wearing, what kind of flowers they should use, and even the flavor of the bleeding cake! She didn't even like cake! What made her blood boil even more was that she winked at Draco "The Ferret" Malfoy.

She had no idea what possessed her to do such a thing, or why she liked the smell of his cologne, she just knew that she could NOT fall in love with him. Hermione knew that there was no chance in hell that anything could work between the two of them. Not that she wanted a chance with that handsome, arrogant, muscular scourge of her school days.

'But this isn't Hogwarts anymore,' came the small voice in her mind.

"Oh bugger off," muttered Hermione to herself, "he could jump off a cliff for all I care." She opened the wardrobe with a scowl. Before she had left for brunch, she had ransacked the closet looking for something to wear. Anya's closet was like satellite television, there were a million clothes to choose from, but nothing that really appropriate to wear.

There were ball gowns, petty coats, formal wear, church clothes, casual attire, boots, heals, sneakers, dress robes, hats, and a rainbow of bras and panties to choose from. Yet Hermione could find NOTHING to wear. It wasn't until Hermione finally got frustrated and altered some clothes to suit her with her wand she finally had right clothing to join the elitists to brunch. Hermione felt that she would be doing that often in the next week.

Now, she was back again, not even two hours later, looking for something new to wear. Hermione was becoming stressed, and stressed to a very fine point. All she needed now was one more annoyance to make her explode, and sure enough, it was right on time.

"Does mistress want her--" came an all too familiar voice.

"NO MISTRESS DOES NOT WANT ANYTHING, NOW GET LOST!" screamed Hermione. Immediately feeling guilty she called back to the elf, "No wait," the elf turned with her ears drooping like a struck dog, "I'm sorry. I'm a bit stressed right now, and it would probably be best if you stayed clear of me for the greater part of the day."

The elf nodded and left the room hastily without so much as a look back.

Hermione looked around the now messy room and was let out a big breath. "What do I care if I look nice anyway," grumbled Hermione.

'Because you want to look nice for HIM,' the singing voice inside her head chimed. Muttering to her self, Hermione quickly grabbed a frilly white button down top from the floor and changed into it, leaving the black skirt she wore to brunch to be the shirt's match. Thinking that she looked ridiculous, Hermione checked herself in the mirror.

GOODY.

She actually looked pretty decent.

Giving up on her quest to look unpresentable, Hermione grabbed her purse and headed down stairs. Lidya, Narcissa, and Draco were at the foot of the staircase waiting for her.

Oh joy.

Their portkey was an old chauffeur's hat. They all gathered around it and placed a finger upon the hat. Seconds later Hermione felt the familiar hook entrench itself behind her navel and the left the estate. The familiar whirlwind of air rushed past her body, and sooner than she would have liked she felt her feet touch solid ground. Wobbling to the side she reached out to grab the sturdiest thing next to her, much to her displeasure, it just happened to be the arm of her "fiancé." He caught her deftly and raised her back to her feet.

"Whoa there, you alright?" he asked with the slightest hint of laughter. She flashed Draco a smile showing her slight displeasure at his jest. She struggled out of his arm and corrected her clothing, keeping her eyes completely averted from the rest of the party. She straightened up and met the eyes of her "mother" and future mother-in-law. They wore matching looks of impatience at her, and Lidya tapped her foot while giving Hermione the once-over.

"Are you done now?" she asked.

"Yes mum," mumbled Hermione. She silently followed after the two mothers. She couldn't help but let her eyes wander to the flashy windows decorated with beautiful arrangement of flowers, fairy lights, and other such things. The atmosphere was contagious, and her face conveyed the look and feel of complete wonder, but the feeling wouldn't last long.

"What's wrong," asked Draco after a long silence. They were in a small homely boutique specializing in beautiful wedding robes. He had watched Hermione turn each page of the well thumbed through magazines and watched as his fiancé became more and more disappointed after every turn.

'If you only knew,' thought Hermione as she looked up to meet his gray eyes and looked into his caring gaze. 'How could this be the boy that scorned me all those years at Hogwarts?' she thought glumly. She had become surprisingly depressed in the small boutique. After the owner's warm greeting towards them she realized that this wasn't her wedding. She could never have the items that would be attained for this wedding. She gave a heavy sigh and shook her head. "Nothing Draco," she lied, "I'm just a bit tired I suppose."

"And I'll send for my assistants to gather some cake and wine samples," said the planner, Mme. Meadows, folding up the book of gown fabrics. "We have the best of the best to choose from for your nuptials Ms. Brahmes, and if we don't have it, well we'll just have to find it for you!" she stated as-a-matter-of-fact-like. Hermione plainly nodded and silently hoped for this day to end. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat next to Draco, and took a good look around her surroundings. Gowns of every color and size lined the back walls, flower arrangements appeared here and there, and monoliths of cakes littered the floor space. She took it all in with a slightly peeved look.

'I have to get out of here,' she thought to herself as she looked to her side at Draco. 'He's expecting the REAL Anya, and that is definitely NOT me. He'll be very angry,' she continued, 'and even more disappointed.' It was safe to say that Hermione Granger now had a small crush on princess' fiancé. Small, and growing perhaps, but it's still unclear, and very much unsafe to call at this point. She quickly averted her eyes as Draco turned to look at her to say something, but never did. He just looked, and Hermione longed for him to stop, to stop until at least she had the nerve to finally stare him back. She couldn't bear his stares, she knew that he looked at her without knowing the truth, and she feared that with his constant stares, he would find her out for the fraud she was committing. She simply had too much pride for that, and she resolved to keep this her secret until she could finally switch back with the REAL Anya.

Then another horrible thought hit Hermione. What if Anya never came back? What if Anya enjoyed Hermione's life too much and decided to live out the rest of her days as Hermione Granger? Hermione couldn't bear that thought and when Mme. Meadows held the samples of wine in front of her and Draco, she took one and quickly gulped it down. Red, after white, after red, and white, each sample that was offered in front of her she quickly drank to slow her racing mind, and soon enough, Hermione, or rather Anya, was drunk.

"Perhaps you'd like to try some cake," offered Mme. Meadows offering Hermione a slice of moist chocolate cake.

Hermione wrinkled her nose, and thought 'Nobody likes cake,' then said or slurred: "No thank you. [nothenkye"

She was reaching for what seemed like her thirteenth or fourteenth glass of wine when Draco caught her outstretched hand and said, "I think we'll just take a walk for a bit." He entwined his fingers with hers and led her out of the boutique after the nod of approval from the two mothers. Hermione stumbled along side him and let the fresh air fill her lungs, she didn't notice as Draco let her finger go, wrapped her up in his left arm and lead her to a bench often filled by lovers in the square. Tipsy, Hermione didn't mind at all, she gladly nuzzled closer to her alias' fiancé.

He sat, a little surprised at the actions of his fiancé as she wrapped her arms around his waist and closed her brown eyes. He let his hand play with her uniformly straight hair, soft, brown and fine. Almost like his, only a slight bit thicker, and not very yellow in the least. He let out a long sigh, and threw his head back in vexation. He knew why Anya acted this way, and it became clearer and clearer that she was not looking forward to their wedding with each glass of champagne and wine she put away back at the boutique. 'What can I do to make you love me?' he asked her silently.

Suddenly he felt her body stiffen, and she sat bolt upright. "What're we doing out here," she said to no one. Sensing her change in attitude, he neatly removed his arm and fingers away from her hair and body. Draco sensed that this was only the beginning of her cascade of emotions. Confusion, then perhaps desperation to follow? He kept his musings to himself and decided to let his fiance's whirlwind of feelings play itself out.

Draco leaned back and put his now free arms behind his head, "You were engaged in a most heated drinking game with yourself, and I just happened to wrestle you away from your next glass before you officially blacked out." His eyes now closed could only picture what her expressions could have been. Surprised, angry, confused? The list went on and on. It wasn't until he noticed that she had been silent for an awfully long time that he opened his gray eyes once again. He looked over and saw that she was staring at her hands, looking lost in thought. (Or perhaps just lost.)

He had come to the conclusion that his most favorite part of his fiance's body were her eyes, her brown expressive eyes, and at the moment those very eyes were deeply saddened or perhaps troubled. Draco couldn't tell, but he didn't want them to continue being so. "Cheer up," he said to her, "I'll tell you what, you could've drank me under the table." Hoping that would make her smile at least, Draco was shocked to find that his comment made Anya even more sullen.

She buried her face, and her beautiful eyes in her hands and sobbed. Feeling even more of a goof than the moment before, Draco decided to simply be quiet until the crying was done. He took her form into his arms and started with his attempt of placation.

It worked.

Anya uncovered her face and threw her arms around him and began to cry openly. "I can't . . . believe" SOB "I" SOB "did" SOB SOB LOUDER SOB "that," she wailed into his chest. Taking advantage of the situation to show that he could be a comforting life partner, Draco "Shh"ed and "There, there"-ed his way into her favor. And while her tears poured so did words and Draco managed to piece together her incomprehensible bawls to console her into a less riotous state.

"You know we're going to have to go back to the boutique," he said finally, couples had passed them and commented on how sweet Draco was, how comforting he was, how absolutely patient he was. He was just being kind, and he didn't like the way her sobs brought undue attention towards him. She looked up at him with her red, puffy, tears stained eyes and nodded. She wiped the tear streaks away and started to take deep long breaths. "Sober yet?" he added.

"A-a-a little," she slurred and hiccupped. Draco couldn't help but smile at her condition; for once he was useful to her. He could actually do something to ease the pain, unlike his past relations where no amount of galleons could quell their hungry appetites, but then again, he'd never been with anyone quite like this broken princess. She was pretty, well bred, and most of all knowledgeable. To Draco's family, she was perfect and well endowed enough to never want for anything.

"Now, this is a bad habit that I've inherited from my mother," started Draco as he pulled out his wand and did a quick wave, and before Anya could say a word of protest her mind cleared, and her face looked as if she were not shedding tears left and right just moments before.

"I could've done that myself," she replied impetuously to his sobering spell.

Draco smiled and said, "Please, let me feel like I have something to offer in our strange relationship. I like feeling needed for something other than my dashing good looks." At long last her face cracked a genuine smile, and it sent his heart into revolutions.

"Merlin knows that's all you've been really good at, and really," she said, "to tell you the truth, you're very, VERY mediocre at it."

Ouch!

Draco let out a laugh, stood up and offered his hand to his lovely fiancé and led her back to the homey boutique. When they walked in, all chummy and couple like as they were being at the moment, their whole company turned and looked at them in surprise. The tubby woman with the big smile, flashed her magnificent molars, and stood up to greet them.

"Good, good, you're back," Mme. Meadows, "we were just debating on what kind of cake you should have at your reception, and-"

Anya cut her off. "We want pie," said plainly, and assertively. It took Draco a second to realize that she was being serious. Being such a quick thinker, he didn't let his confusion show as openly as his mother, her mother, and the tubby woman had. Mme. Meadows was left gaping, her immaculate molars peeking out from under her thin lips.

"Of course!" she finally exclaimed. The tubby woman clasped her hands together and looked horridly jovial. "Mrs. Brahmes," she said addressing his future mother-in-law, "you're daughter is well on her way to making her wedding one that the masses, wizard and muggle alike will be talking about well into the closing of the millennia!" Draco saw the glimmer in the woman's eyes and knew she was selling something, and as most of his assumptions were, he was correct. "And, I can make it happen."

Mme. Meadows had the job by the time they exited the boutique, and plans were being put together for their wedding less than a fortnight away.

Hermione lay in bed staring upwards at the bed's canopy. The canopy wasn't exactly the most interesting thing in the room, although it was a conversation starter. It was a sheer material that glittered like night sky when all was dark in the room. But at the moment, the canopy was not the topic stressed in her mind. She was reliving her day today, and how disastrous she had made it out to be. Thankfully Draco was there to get her back in the right mind state, and remind her of the reason she was there in the first place. By this time, Hermione had finally made up her mind. If Anya doesn't show up on their decided date, then Hermione would stick it out to the wedding, then she would be gone without so much as a brown strand of hair to give her away.

She took Anya's proposition to feel pampered and live like a princess. Now here she was and she wasn't enjoying herself one little bit. "That's all going to have to change," she said to herself. She was about to turn out the lamp beside her bed when a knock came at her chamber door. Lidya's head popped into the room.

"Mind if we chat?" she said apprehensively. Hermione nodded and sat up in the bed, and made to get out from the tangle of covers.

"No," Lidya said, "stay there." She walked into the room regally, like a queen should at all times. "We need to talk," she said sitting beside Hermione on the bed. Hermione nodded and waited for Lidya to continue. "Today was rather interesting," she said after a long pause, obviously choosing her words very carefully. Hermione's stomach flipped-flopped. "I know that you've been against this arrangement from the start, but could you please give Draco a chance? He's going to make a wonderful husband, just...just give him a chance love."

Hermione gave a weak smile. "I'll give it a try," she said at last. "You're right mother, I've been quite petulant, and I just wanted to thank you for your patience with me. I'll talk...nicely to Draco next time I see him, I promise."

Lidya smiled, kissed Hermione on the forehead, hugged her, and as she was closing the door said: "I'm holding you to that. Sleep well hon." Hermione let out a sigh of relief and sank into her welcoming sheets. Suddenly the door opened again, and Lidya's head popped back in and quickly added, "And we're having cake. And don't argue with me on that young lady." And once again the door closed, and remained closed for the rest of the night.

CHAPTER TWO THANK YOU'S

Miss Morg Malfoy, Artemis MoonClaw, Crystallized Snow, Applola Snipp, moCha chiLLer, Megan, Chibi Nao-chan, Lari, daydreamz87, Black Slytherin Girl, Megan, Callie, black-unicorn13, mesmer, alka, CoUrTRaDcLiFfE, x1goldensnake3x, Maranwe Inglorion, pottyboutweasley cause Cat's too eager to review to sign in!, A LiTTle SomeOnE, MysticalSpirits, MysticalSpirits, heartless69, kitty-cat2134

Arrrighty, hopefully my next update will be much sooner than this one was. :) Review this chapter! I beg you!!