Chapter Twenty-Six
It rained that night.
Hermione managed to escape the reception early by feigning a massive headache. Dora insisted she accompany her granddaughter, whilst encouraging Ginny to stay behind and enjoy herself awhile longer.
Though disappointed her friend couldn't come along, Hermione was somewhat satisfied with the decision, knowing Ginny and Harry hadn't had a dance yet. It would probably be good for the two of them – even when true love is present, it still needs nurturing, after all...
"Really, you don't need to come with me. I'll be fine by myself," Hermione protested, as Dora took her arm to leave the room.
"Nonsense, and I'll not hear another word of it, either," Dora half-retorted.
Hermione smoothed out her dress and said in her most final tone, "I wish to be alone."
Dora took a step back and surveyed her granddaughter quickly. Her voice had been so final, so decisive, so… very much like Dora, herself. Frowning with one painted-on eyebrow, Dora took another step back and murmured, "Very well, then. I shall see you tomorrow morning, my dear."
Hermione nodded, sought out some of the more important guests, such as the Minister of Magic, and thanked them for their attendance. Once finally convinced she'd been a good hostess, she disapparated directly into her bedroom back at the Black Manor.
The fatigue was overwhelming; She collapsed on the bed, face-down.
.
.
The sun woke Hermione the next morning. She blinked a few times, bleary eyes taking in the zebra-patterned quilt (no doubt a piece of Dora's eccentric collection). It took her brain a few seconds to register where she was.
She sat up and caught a look at the giant French windows, only to find rain pattering down on the balcony. When she refocused her eyes properly, something even more disconcerting met her eyes; Who was that woman reflected in the glass? The make-up around her eyes was smudged from having slept with it all on, and her hair was tousled. A once magnificent wedding dress was rumpled and creased where she'd slept on it.
Was that girl REALLY Hermione Granger?
No, she wasn't, Hermione realized with a pang.
That girl was Mrs. Hermione Malfoy.
Exhaustion seemed to course through her veins like a poison, with the same devastating effect. She glanced at the cuckoo clock hanging on the wall, determining it to be 7:37 in the morning – much later than she normally woke up.
As if knowing she was awake – and possibly he did – George apparated into the bedroom with a pop and a tea tray in hand.
"Breakfast for you, madam? You've a long day ahead of yourself," he greeted, gesturing to the tray.
Getting up, Hermione managed to smile feebly. She wasn't able to fool George, however. He poured her a steaming cup of peppermint tea and interjected with a, "Something I can do for you, madam?"
"You can go back to calling me 'miss'," Hermione grumbled under her breath, annoyed at the reminder of the unfortunate marriage the previous day.
George attempted to hide a smirk, "Here's your tea, miss."
Hermione took the tea gratefully and took a sip. It burned her tongue a little, so she put the cup down.
"Did you hear of the red ship and the blue ship that collided, miss?"
Hermione looked up at him with a heavy frown. "What on earth are you talking about?" she snapped irritably.
"I heard both the crews were marooned," George replied with a straight face.
Perhaps it was a mark of how unhappy she truly was that Hermione didn't even smile.
"I believe your grandmother wishes to see you in her office," George finally said, once he was aware that he wasn't getting even a chuckle.
"Well you may tell her I have no wish to see her."
Well? If she was a Malfoy now… she might as well act like one…
George hesitated and gave Hermione a reproachful look. She immediately felt horrible for saying such a thing, but stood her stance nonetheless. It was time someone stood up to Callidora Black. Granted she was doing it a little late, but it was better to be late than never!
Hesitantly, George disapparated to relay the message. Hermione rose from the bed, trying not to feel a little sorry for herself, and pulled the pins and destroyed flowers from her hair. Her hair fell, crinkly and knotted, around her shoulders into the typical Hermione bush of hair. She frowned and decided to shower. Once she was clean, perhaps she could think straight…
The shower certainly was refreshing. She emerged feeling much less irritable.
This would be the beginning of a new era, a new Hermione, she decided. She would not be pushed around any longer; From the way people still regarded the Malfoy name (even after that shady business with Voldemort), she was sure she now wielded some kind of power, whether she liked it or not.
She wrapped a towel around herself and retreated back into the bedroom to find some suitable clothes to wear. Feeling glad that George was not there waiting for her, she opened the twin doors to the walk-in closet and rummaged through all the clothes there, half of which she had never worn, or even seen before.
"What would a Malfoy wear?" she thought aloud to herself.
Her eyes finally came to rest on a bronze silk dress with only one sleeve and a gold trim.
"That's nothing like what a Malfoy would wear," she decided with a smirk and removed the frock from its hanger.
She was going to mess with all their worlds by being unconventional. And if they didn't like it, well that was just too bad for them.
Jalena was waiting back in the bedroom with a satisfied look on her face as she surveyed Hermione. "That's lovely, miss."
"Thank you," Hermione replied.
"Your grandmother has already moved all your things into your new house, except this room, of course."
"My things?"
Jalena nodded as if Hermione should have known that already; "Of course. We've just got to move your clothes and things now. We can leave whenever you're ready."
"Already?"
Jalena nodded. Hermione paused, "Was my grandmother angry that I didn't want to see her?"
Jalena shuffled a bit, "Not really, miss. Just a bit upset, that's all. But she understood."
Hermione immediately felt guilty. "May I see her before I leave?"
"She's gone out."
Disappointed and feeling ashamed, Hermione murmured, "I see."
"Shall I get your things?"
With a nod from her mistress, Jalena whipped out her wand and set to work packing up Hermione's numerous belongings.
"Where am I going, do you know?" Hermione inquired.
"I believe the mistress said your father-in-law bought you a house."
"A whole house!" Hermione exclaimed. What a fantastical thought… a whole house. "Probably a gloomy place…"
Jalena smiled wanly as she finished with the packing. "Are you set, miss?"
Hermione nodded. "The address?"
"We've got a Portkey," Jalena corrected lightly. "It leaves at ten 'til nine."
Hermione checked the clock on the wall, "Well that's another ten minutes…" She peered about the room, noticing its emptiness. "What will happen to the horses? Zephyr?"
"Already waiting for you," Jalena replied as though it should have been obvious.
Stunned, but not wanting to show it, Hermione fell silent. Her grandmother had thought of everything… and she had told her she didn't want to see her. Her heart sunk a little. Who was she kidding? She couldn't be a Malfoy. There was no way.
.
.
When it finally came time for the Portkey to leave, Jalena handed it to Hermione – an old silver spoon. "Are you ready?"
Hermione nodded as both girls took – with some difficulty – all of Hermione's belongings into their hands and arms. On the stroke of ten 'til nine, they were whisked away, swirling around and around until they were sufficiently dizzy and had to let go.
They landed – Jalena somewhat more gracefully – on the threshold of an entrance hall that put Black Manor to shame. Where Hermione had thought Dora had overdone her rooms, she realized now that she had been very, VERY wrong. There simply hadn't been anything to prepare her for this kind of extravagance.
Huge spiral staircases graced both sides of the room, carpeted in what appeared to be Turkish handiwork. The center of the room was a huge oval, big enough to fit the whole of the house Hermione had lived with her parents in. Signs of hoards of money were everywhere; the curtains were of a deep green velvet… some of the windows were made entirely of stained glass… a huge crest and coat of arms was displayed prominently on the far wall.
The first thing Hermione really took note of though, was the lack of light. The walls, made of mahogany and naturally dark, did not offer much to help that issue. The only real light came from a skylight high above them (not very helpful with all the rain), and a few floating candles situated in various places around the hall.
"It's dark," Hermione finally acknowledged.
Jalena snickered to herself. "Shall we go upstairs?"
"Can we help mistresses with their belongings?" a squeaky voice intruded, sounding very nearly hopeful.
Hermione whirled around to confirm her worst fears: There, before her, stood three house elves.
Jalena seemed about to comply, but Hermione replied quickly, "They're all clothes, thanks."
The three house elves bowed and exited, but not before promising Hermione and Jalena they would bring them a tray of tea, despite Hermione's protests.
"You're the same as your grandmother, aren't you?" Jalena muttered, somewhat disgruntled at having to levitate everything up the numerous sets of stairs. "Don't believe in house elves…"
This one last comparison to her good-hearted grandmother set Hermione into a silent sadness over having wronged such a woman.
If I was hoping to help ruin my life, Hermione thought to herself spitefully, I am doing a wonderful job so far…
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Author's Note: Thanks to brooklynsam3, GoodCharlotte615, gitgit, Shaiya 'tears-in-her-eyes', tfobmv18, spikeecat, RIPJameSiriusLupinTrueMarauder, MyLookOfDenial., and InvisibleLilacNights for the reviews! Reviews are always greatly appreciated.
I'm really very sorry about the long wait since my last post and this one. It has been the longest wait thusfar - 3 weeks, I think. But please, don't send me messages asking me to update soon. I am really flattered that you like my story, but I am a mother of four small children with a full-time job. I don't always have the time to update as often as you, or even I, would like. Please respect that.
Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas or Hannukah or Kwanzaa! (Did I forget anything?? Eek.)
I will try to update a little sooner next time.