Chapter Four
She woke with the sun, as always.
Hermione dressed herself in some riding clothes Jalena had purchased on their outing. The tan pants with the brown leather inserts on the insides of her legs hugged her body tightly. She caught a glimpse of herself in the gilded full-length mirror and had to turn away. Her curves stood out, womanly at eighteen years old.
Trekking her way down to the stables, she sought out Henry. It was 5:30 in the morning, but Henry was awake.
He caught a look at her riding gear and knew exactly what she sought. After introductions were made, he brought forth the mare Callidora had purchased specifically for her granddaughter.
"Her name is Zephyr," he told her.
Zephyr was a seven-year-old chestnut Thoroughbred. She was very soft and sweet, gentle and with a good gait.
"Hello, Zephyr." The horse shoved her nose at Hermione, searching for a carrot, or a sugar cube. Hermione had come prepared, reaching into her pocket and presenting the horse with two red radishes she'd got from the kitchen staff.
Hermione was in no means healed from what Alan had done to her. Not yet. Perhaps it was better off that she'd been out cold. Perhaps not. But whatever she was feeling, it was far from content.
Animals can sense emotion much better than humans and horses are no exception. What Zephyr was able to glean was that Hermione was a kind soul that had been hurt.
Zephyr shoved her nose in Hermione's face, which prompted a very brief, tiny laugh.
"Are we starting with the basics?" Henry prompted.
"Looks like it," Hermione replied.
"All right then, let's see how fast of a learner you are."
Henry taught Hermione how to saddle up using an English saddle and a bit-less bridle that allowed the horse to graze in-between riding.
Hermione swung up onto the patient mare's back. After putzing around in the riding ring for a little while where Hermione learned the elementary stuff of riding basics, she and Henry decided to go on one of the shorter trails.
"Good experience for you," he grunted after suggesting it.
He saddled up a gelding named Rudolf and they were off at a leisurely walk. Zephyr seemed to be enjoying herself; She nibbled at the grass and various shrubs along the sides of the trail, while Henry pointed out plants that the horses shouldn't eat.
It was a broadening experience for Hermione – Hermione who once got on a broomstick and decided she never would again. But then again, this was also the girl who, when picked up by a full-grown troll tethered up in the Forbidden Forest, demanded he put her down!
The two picked their way along the easy trail, Henry constantly correcting her on some minor fault with the way her ankles were positioned, or reminding her to point her toes up, not down.
Before long, Hermione smiled a real, genuine smile. The first smile, in fact, since…
After the ride, Hermione's legs felt both like jello and a festering wound. Yet despite the discomfort, she felt something akin to joy. If it wasn't joy, it was definitely excitement. Recognizing this, Hermione became an instant horse-lover. She was converted.
As she began putting Zephyr away in her stall with some fresh hay, George the butler Apparated out of thin air, startling some of the horses. Others were simply just used to it, and were what many horse-lovers refer to as "bomb-proof."
"Message for you, miss," George relayed, turning to face Hermione. He looked quite out of place in his robes. "The mistress is having some important guests for dinner, which shall be formal tonight. The madam also wishes you to note that the family has already arrived and that she is engaged in formal discourse at the moment and shall be quite busy all day. She does stress however, that she will be looking forward to seeing you at dinner and that there shall possibly be some very exciting news."
"Thanks, George." Hermione wiped some sweat from her forehead: It was damn hot! "One question, however. By formal, does it mean evening-dress-formal, or little-black-dress formal?"
"I believe the little black dress shall be just the ticket, miss," George replied with a curt nod.
"Thanks again."
"One more thing, miss. What did the fish say when he swam into the wall?"
Hermione's mouth twitched into a smile. "I'm sure I don't know, George."
The butler grinned. "Damn." He Disapparated.
Hermione's lips remained ever so slightly upturned for a few moments as she took out the grooming brushes to give Zephyr the proper treatment. Brushing exactly how Henry had taught her, she moved on hand in little circles, then brushed straight with the other. She repeated this process again and again and it was clear the horse was enjoying it. She stopped chewing on her hay every so often to close her eyes and exhale before eating some more.
Finally, she moved to get to Zephyr's other side and repeat the process, when she noticed a figure standing in the doorway of the stall. It startled Hermione and made her jump, her eyes wide.
Leaning against the doorframe was none other than Draco Malfoy.
Utterly bewildered, Hermione turned red, "Malfoy! How long have you been there?" She had recently just had an entire conversation with her horse, though it'd been sadly one-sided.
"Awhile," he replied coolly, vague as Malfoy always had been. He crossed the stall with a single step, "May I?"
Hermione silently handed him the grooming brushes, which he took and began brushing her horse as though he'd done it all his life.
But considering Dora's reaction to her having never ridden before, he might really HAVE done it his whole life, Hermione mused. How strange to think of Draco Malfoy being a horse lover!
…So it was the Malfoys that Callidora was having for dinner. Very well then… Hermione could be polite and refined when she wanted to… Clearly they had learned she was a pureblood, judging by Draco's greeting. How strange it felt that he hadn't called her a Mudblood. Perhaps he hadn't yet thought of a better nickname.
Zephyr clearly recognized that this was a person used to horses. She stopped her munching and turned her head to Malfoy, dropping bits of hay on his shoes as she nudged him.
"You like horses?" She was still surprised. After all, this was the boy who'd been so rude to a hippogriff it'd slashed his arm open, which he milked for weeks in an attempt to get the hippogriff killed. Yet here he was, grooming a horse with expertise.
"A little," he grunted. He put a hand on the horse's nose and patted it. Then without another word, he handed the brush back to Hermione. He returned silently to his place in the doorframe.
It was silent again for awhile, except for the munching of hay or the low whinny of one of the horses in the pasture.
.
.
"So it's settled, then," Dora concluded, resting her hands in her lap in a stately manner.
"Settled and done, if you have nothing further to put in," replied Lucius Malfoy.
"Indeed, I don't. We seemed to have covered everything. Narcissa, have you anything to add?"
Mrs. Malfoy shook her head indicating she had no further input.
"Shall we adjourn to the parlor? I'm sure the other two will be thrilled at the news," Dora concluded.
Lucius rose from his seat and held out an arm toward Dora, who took it and rose. Dora walked arm in arm with Narcissa, accordingly Lucius stood to their left as was proper etiquette. The three left for the parlor; Dora called for George, who Apparated to her side.
"Please gather up Hermione and Draco, George. Have you any idea where they are?" said Dora.
"The last I knew, madam, your granddaughter had just become infatuated with the horses. I'll fetch her promptly," he promised.
"Splendid. I knew she would." Dora's creaky smile grew wide. Anticipation played on her lips. Only after George Disapparated did she say anything more: "This shall be the finest decision we've made in a long, long time, Lucius…"
Lucius's smile was ominous and bordering malicious. "Indeed…"
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Author's Note: Thank you Alenor, Mrs. Hermione Jane Weasley and LikeEdwardLovesBella for your comments! I love comments... :-)
This chapter is for you guys.
