Hermione breathed in the fresh air of the afternoon sun. She smiled as she exhaled. The sky opened up above her and the rolling land was soothing to her mind. Spring hung in the air heavily and she basked in its glow. Hermione made her way to a secluded spot along the grassy beach near the pond and sat down in the grass, picking at the red poppies there as her mind drifted. Her mind always drifted to far off places that she had never been too. For example, the far shores of Troy on the Aegean Sea, or the cliffs where strong and just Hercules completed his tenth task, always fascinated her.
Her mother thought she was crazy not to be interested in the topics other goddesses her age adored. Hermione made a face at the long list her mother had read off on her: weaving, looms, needles, gossip, competitions of the arts, make up, more gossip, and, worst of all, gods. No, she rather read books; studying the world and the inventions her best friend, Ron (Hephaestus), created.
Hermione was a rare specimen, a beautiful creature, but the males amongst her kind thought nothing of her due to her philosophy based needs. She did not care though. She was fine with staying the way she was, like Pansy (Hestia) and her best girl friend, Astoria (Artemis).
There was a high pitched giggle that broke her thoughts and she snapped her head to look behind her. Her brown eyes narrowed as she glared at the five girls that were her companions, her mother's doing. There were about five of them, nymphs with a variety of hair colors. They were packed together, picking flowers to bring to her mother, or some helpless mortal who happened upon them. Hermione rolled her eyes at them. Like any mortal would want a flower from them.
Suddenly, she heard a voice.
"Hermione," she heard a soft voice call for her. Her gaze looked out at the pond before. It was eerily still, "Hermione," the voice called to her again, urgency laced within it.
She stood up, her poppy crown falling to the grass, "Hello!" she called out, her eyes continuing to search for the source of the voice.
"Hermione."
She stepped toward the pond, hoping the new angle would reveal the stranger. Looking behind her, she noticed that her companions had their backs turned to her and were not paying attention to her as her mother had instructed them to do so. She gave a grateful sigh; they were annoying more than anything.
Hermione looked back at the water. This time the liquid rippled and bubbles floated to the top of the once mirror like pond. She had only ever seen a cooking pot full of stew act like this before, but she was not startled. Instead, curiosity filled her mind at the possibilities this new information would give to the intellectual world. Lily (Athena), the goddess of wisdom, would be so proud of her, she thought.
The ground, suddenly, began to shake. She stayed standing, though, due to all the years of training with Astoria she had partaken in. Hermione glanced behind her once again, but her companions still seemed to have not noticed her.
Her ears, abruptly, heard the sound of something breaking the water and she turned to look back at the bubbling pond. From the sky blue liquid, two, large, black heads with glowing red eyes appeared. With those heads came two identical horse bodies, their short fur was black like midnight. From their noses, smoke snorted and water sizzled as if they were the sun. With their bodies, a chariot appeared from the boiling water. Hermione could make out the sides of the vehicle. Skulls and bones were carved in rich gold, like liquor from the gods. The faces, the skulls held, were horrific with wide, gaping black holes for mouths like they died mid scream. Hermione's wide, brown eyes traced the chariot up to the body that occupied the driver's seat.
Water dripped down onto to the grass as the chariot rolled onto the beach before her. And everything seemed to slow down.
Hermione peered at the chariot's occupant. There a young man stood. She noticed he had striking, white hair that was, in fact, blonde. He was pale like freshly decaying bones and lanky from head and toe, but he had muscles which were much more prominent with the indents on his silver armor. His chest plate, Hermione noted, was inlaid with gold and around his neck was a black ripped cloak which dangled around him like some doll. On his blonde hair was a crown made of the darkest metal Hermione had ever seen on both the Heavens and the Earth. Its design was strikingly powerful for the metal tips stuck out every which way. Her brown eyes connected with his, a grey like storm clouds. But these eyes, unlike the clouds that King Harry (Zeus) created when he was angered, had a softness to them. One that she was sure very little people saw. She recognized this man immediately as the brother that Harry (Zeus) and Neville (Poseidon) rarely spoke of. A god that was left in exile and a king lost in the shadows. It was, Draco (Hades), King of the Underworld.
"Hermione," it was his voice that had called out to her.
Speedily, Draco (Hades), slapped the reins against the rear ends of the horses and the horses reared up on their back legs, before charging toward her. Her heartbeat raced in her chest as she backed away from the wild horses. She screamed for her companions, turning to run toward them, but they failed to notice the commotion going on a couple feet from them. If she made it out of this situation without any scrapes and bruises, she promised to personally send those five nymphs to Tartarus.
Around her waist, all of a sudden, she felt a strong arm wrap around her and she was lifted off the ground. She screamed, again, for her companion's. Her legs flared around her chlamys as she kicked at the God of the Dead. She hit her mark several times, but Draco (Hades) did not seem to be effected.
"Stop!" Draco yelled out, his voice sharp and piercing.
"Let me go!" she screamed, continuing to kick at the older god.
Draco, in response, wrapped his arm tighter around her, bringing their bodies closer together. With his free hand, he pulled the reins to the left turning the chariot around in one fluid motion. The horses raced toward the pond and Hermione screamed more, "Let me go, you MONSTER!"
She had hit a nerve because Draco's eyes flashed with fire, literally, as he looked down at her. She gulped and felt like apologizing and then realized what he was doing and she glared at him, hard and cold. The cool water of the pond washed over them and soon they were engulfed and darkness overcame her.
Hermione groaned as she felt a massive amount of pain sweep in beneath her eyelids and she opened her eyes. To her, it felt like she had a little too much wine after certain celebrations. The first thing that she noticed when she opened her eyes was the high arches of the room. They were like the entrance halls on Mt. Hogwarts, but they were not white, but black of some unknown stone she was not familiar with.
"You're awake!" a male voice called, completely unfamiliar to her.
Next to her on the bed, she felt someone sit down, but her head ached so badly, she could barely make out anything dark in the room. Abruptly, she smelled a heavy scent wash over her; it was unfamiliar to her. Thinking she was on Mt. Hogwarts, she thought, when did Blaise (Apollo) start wearing that stuff?
Sitting up, she groaned once again as her head felt like a parade of horses with chariots and the charioteers had raced over her head, "Agh! Where am I?"
"Umm, well," the man responded with uncertainty in his voice.
At this, her eye sight began to clear and sitting before her was Draco (Hades). He looked down at her softly, worry glowing in his eyes.
She groaned again, but this time in disgust, and fell back onto the soft bed murmuring, "It was real. It was real. It was real," Draco (Hades) reached out and gently touched her wavy, brown hair, which was smooth and calm beneath his touch. Hermione slapped his hand away, the hit only a slight sting on his hand, "Don't touch me!" she growled, but it was more of a hiss to Draco.
Draco studied her with a curious smile. She was still so young, though, she looked about eighteen years old to a mortal. A little bit too old to be married, but Draco was not surprised after all since her mother was Hannah who always seemed to a stick up her arse. Draco's grey eyes fell to her brown which were hard and unforgiving.
He chuckled, "My, my, my, you are feisty."
"What am I doing here?" she growled at him once again, pulling the soft silk sheets up over her chest as she felt bare and vulnerable under his gaze. There was something about him that she couldn't quite figure out.
His quick silver eyes narrowed in at her movement and he memorized the swell of her breast with her breathing in that quick moment, "Harry has given me permission to take you," he simply said.
"Why?" she glared at him.
His hand suddenly began to move and she flinched, her brown eyes watching as Draco placed the hand on her knee. He then moved toward her so quickly, like a predator, and leaned into her ear. His voice, she noted, was sensual and loving and kind, in an odd sort of way, "I've always wanted you Hermione. Always," his breathing ticked the soft skin beneath her air and it sent a shiver down her spine. This did not go unnoticed this and Draco smiled in accomplishment.
Her voice caught in her throat as she watched him carefully move away from her, "I've... I've never wanted you... so," she swallowed the lump in her throat, her brown eyes connecting with his, "So, I demand that you let me go. Let me deal with King Harry."
Draco chuckled, "I don't think so," but his face grew serious, "You are to stay here forever as my wife. You will be my Queen and you will never leave the Underworld."
Hermione's eyes saw red as she felt anger swell inside her, but her vision also blurred with tears. She thought, I may never see the Sun again nor eat in the large hall, and she burst into tears. Her strength left her, "I will never marry you!" she yelled at him.
At her defiance, Draco growled so low in his chest that Hermione could feel it crawl across the bed to her. His hand snapped up and grabbed her chin forcefully so she could not look away from him, "I am a god, Hermione, King of the Underworld and I always get what I want," he forced her chin away from him. Her head snapped to the left, but she kept it there, finding a spot on the sheets for her blurry eyes to look at, "I will send a servant in to get you dressed in your gown," she felt him get up from the bed and slowly begin to walk away from her, "And then you will meet me out on the patio looking over the garden."
"No," she murmured between her tears, but Draco just slammed the door shut.
She continued to cry once he left, collapsing back onto the bed. Hours seemed to past and her sadness calmed and, as she breathed in, a deep unknown spicy smell came over her. She tilted her head to the side, finding that the smell was coming from the pillow and she buried her head within its fluffy confinements. It was a small heaven in this hell that she suddenly found herself in. Inhaling the scent, the goddess of springtime did not realize that she was becoming addicted to it, so slowly and unconsciously.
Unexpectedly, there was a small knock on the door and Hermione jumped at the guilty pleasure she had let herself surrender to. Breathing a sigh to calm her heart, she called out, "Come in."
"Mistress?" a small female voice croaked.
Hermione looked up and stared at the small ghostly like figure before her. The figure had curly blonde hair that faded in and out from dirty blonde to grey to invisible. Her eyes, for it was a female, had no spark of life to them and they were a dull brown, a muddy cross between brown and grey. She wore a long chlamys similar to Hermione's own but this chlamys of hers was torn in different areas, some areas showing a patch of pale skin, mainly around her hips.
"Are you the servant Draco was talking about?" Hermione murmured. His name tasted like poison on her virgin tongue and she would admit that she found it slightly addicting but she quickly dissolved that thought. She wouldn't let him get to her, she promised.
The girl nodded, "I am Lavender."
"Like the flower," Hermione noted sadly.
Lavender noticed this, "I can have another name if mine offends you."
Hermione shook her head, "No, it's your name. I shouldn't be the reason for you to change it. It reminds me of spring, of what I am leaving, that is all," and then she had a thought. Snapping her head in Lavender's direction, she yelled, "Did Draco put you up to this? Did he want me to mourn my life before now?" at the servant's silence, she yelled out again, "Tell me!"
Lavender shook and she bowed her head, "No, mistress. King Draco told me no such thing."
Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief, but she realized her mistake, "Oh, Lavender, I am sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. A lot has happened to me this day. I was not in control of my emotions. Please forgive me."
Lavender shook her head and kneeled before the weeping goddess, "You don't need my forgiveness, my lady. I was like this once. When I first came here," she told her story, "I was sad, confused at what had happened to me, but then King Draco took me and gave me shelter. And he said to me, 'Lavender, it's not so dreadful down here.'"
Hermione burst out laughing. She had a pretty laugh, almost like the first sighs of spring. Lavender found it refreshing. Hermione laughed because, after his act a few hours ago, she could hardly believe what she was hearing. Could he really be so kind? "Oh, Lavender. Did he really say that?" Lavender nodded in response, but confused as to why the goddess of spring time was laughing. Hermione kept on her cheerful smile, "Well, thank you for making me feel a little better in this dark and gloomy place. My mother always said that humor did wonders to the body."
Lavender nodded, still not quite sure what to make of the young and beautiful goddess before her. She smiled as she stood up from before Hermione, "I hope you will soon come to call this place home, my lady," and she walked to other side of the room to a large wooden chest that lay there.
Hermione simply scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Yes, like I plan on staying here and call this place aρχική σελίδα (home)," she murmured to herself.
Lavender heard those words and simply gave the darkness of the room a knowing smile.