So here's Chapter 9, completed less than 24 hours after the previous chapter :)
Thank you all for the reviews, they keep me going! A special thanks goes out to Hannah. Your review really put a smile on my face and I will always remember and treasure it (Not that I will ever dare compare myself to J.K. Rowling though)
Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Bellatrix
My husband returns to our rooms in the dead of the night, the moonlight streaming through the open curtains illuminating the tear tracks on his cheeks.
"Your plan to kill her has failed, Bellatrix. The queen has gone to another castle to seek safety, and you have failed," he says in the darkness, a note of triumph present in his otherwise heartbroken voice, aware that I am awake.
It takes a moment for the duke's words to sink into my fuzzy mind, but when they do, I throw back my bed covers and glare at him.
"She would not," I begin, both distraught and in denial at the same time. "She is the queen of the House of Gryffindor, the house renowned for their courage. And she runs away, abandoning her court, like the lowliest of all cowards. I do not believe it."
My husband shrugs. "Believe what you want, my evil wife," he says nastily, and he climbs into bed without another word.
Before long, the duke has surrendered to sleep, albeit a troubled one, but I am still wide awake, my mind too active with plots for slumber.
I cannot fail my house, I tell myself again and again. My husband has already failed to play his part, and as his unfortunate wife I have to do my duty to make up for his lack thereof…
"Don't go to Tutbury, don't go, come back here, come back to me!" Draco cries out in his sleep all of sudden, his arms flailing wildly, a sheen of sweat breaking out across his forehead.
"Hermione, Hermione…" he murmurs, almost incomprehensible. Then he takes a deep breath and rolls over to his side, clearly still fast asleep.
I feel a grin spreading across my face. Poor Draco, I think to myself. The poor duke who cannot even keep his thoughts to himself while at rest…
But what a stroke of luck for me!
Slowly, a plan formulates in my head. Like always, I think of Tom Riddle. I will risk it, just once, I tell myself. Somehow, somewhere, an instinct deep within me tells me that Tom is still loyal to me.
And being a fool of a girl blinded by love and heart break, I decide to follow that instinct.
Hermione
It is the day of the uprising, the dreaded day, the day that will determine so much.
I send out five pageboys in the early morning to scout for news. Then I wait impatiently, unable to sit still, walking around in circles in my small, dark audience chamber.
"Your Grace, I am sure the House of Gryffindor will emerge victorious." Lady Ginny tells me. I glance at her. Again, that strange look passes across her face. But it is gone within a moment. Maybe I imagined it, I tell myself, maybe I am just too nervous.
The sun is high in the sky before the first pageboy returns, red-faced and out of breath.
"What news?" I demand, striding across the room.
"If you will allow me, Your Grace, I would prefer to speak to you in private," the page boy says.
My voice seems to have left me, and my heart plummets to my stomach. I nod, struggling to keep my face impassive. If he wants to talk to me privately, it is no doubt bad news.
As soon as Lady Ginny and the rest of the maids attending me leave, the pageboy bows low and begins urgently. "The worst fear currently is not the House of Slytherin, but Duke Harry. He is planning to seize the opportunity that you are not with your court to turn your courtiers against you."
I can no longer control my stricken expression and it shows all over my face.
The pageboy drops to his knees. "Forgive me for being the messenger of such news, but Your Grace, you have to be strong, there is more to come."
I swallow and nod. My mind is in a turmoil, how can it be, how can my seemingly most loyal lord turn out to be the greatest betrayer of all? Not Harry, not my most trusted duke…my dear friend…
"The courtiers have signed a petition to have you removed as Queen," the pageboy's lips barely move. "The reasons being that you are too young and a female, and are unfit to rule. Furthermore, they accuse you of betraying the house of Gryffindor by conspiring in private with a Slytherin duke."
"And who do they want as King?" I ask, closing my eyes in distress.
"Duke Harry, they want to make Duke Harry king," he replies, the anguish on my face mirrored in his.
All other reactions fail me and I laugh hopelessly. It is not a happy sound, and the pageboy recoils from me. It is the sound of a woman who is stuck in a web of conspiracies so deep that she can do nothing to get herself out of it, it is the sound of a lost, hopeless girl who has just realised the cruel, ridiculous reality of the world.
"You may go," I say.
As he leaves my chamber, I hear him mutter to himself, "May the good lord bless the House of Gryffindor. For even in the most desperate of times, traitors still exist within our midst. Our disunity will be our downfall."
I gaze out of the window and across the gardens. Tutbury Castle, one of the houses belonging to Duke Harry, has become my prison.
And being the queen who foolishly trusted the words of others, I walked right out of the sanctuary of Draco's arms and into my prison cell.
I no longer care about the news concerning the uprising. I even catch myself wishing that the House of Slytherin will emerge as victors, then at least the traitor of all traitors, Duke Harry, will not seat on my throne or wear my crown.
Guilt seizes my heart as I realise that I have just wished my House to lose. But the guilt fades away almost immediately. I brush away all thoughts of my loyalty and focus instead on my heart and my freedom.
Draco will rescue me from here if his House wins, I am certain of that. He will be heir to the throne, the least he can do is to rescue me.
I close my eyes and shut out my surroundings. Everything that has been bothering me fades away as I picture us dancing together. I can hear the music so clearly, I can see Draco's exuberant smile on my face, his powerful arms once more lifting me high into the air, and his silky voice whispering romantic words in my ear. I can almost hear him saying, "Darling, did I not tell you that everything will turn out well?"
A few months later
Hermione
I stare at the stitching in my hands, the colours blurring in front of my tired eyes. Sleepless nights have become common for me. I am still here, still in this dreary prison, a captive of the traitor duke, or as he now calls himself, King of England.
The House of Gryffindor, led by Duke Harry and the forces he managed to gather, were indeed victorious against the House of Slytherin.
I hear the servants in this castle whispering in awe about the bloodbath on the battlefield of Derby, where the Duke fought long and hard, but I cannot bring myself to feel triumphant for him.
Would a captive feel triumphant for her captor? I think not.
Ever since that fateful day so many months ago when I left Draco, along with the rest of my court, I have not had any contact with him. I have tried sending letters, but I cannot even be sure that my letters have left this castle, much less made it into Draco's hands.
The usurper has spies everywhere, even within my midst, even when I was a queen among my courtiers.
Lady Ginny was one of them. She slipped away almost after we received news of the victory of our house.
Now, I hear she has married Duke Harry and is the Queen of England and has claimed everything that is rightfully mine.
There have been numerous attempts to poison me, even one attempt that a foolish boy by the name of Tom Riddle attempted.
It was indeed lucky that my cat knocked over the wine in my goblet and drank some before having a fit on the spot and dying. I shudder to think what might have happened if my cat had not unwittingly sacrificed her life for me.
As for Tom Riddle, my maids tell me that he was taken to the Tower of London for questioning. But even when the frustrated interrogators threatened to torture him, Tom would not reveal who had told him to perform the deed.
Every morning I stare at myself in my mirror and notice that I seem a little older, a little more tired than the day before. And I am not even twenty yet.
"My lady!" one of my maids, no doubt a spy devoted to Duke Harry, bursts into my room and addresses me. I have to grit my teeth to prevent the angry retort from bursting out.
It is no longer "Your Grace" for me, but "My lady". In the usurper's eyes, I am indeed no longer queen.
"The King is coming here to pay you a visit, two days from now," she says excitedly. "It is indeed an honour!"
The young girl quails under the cold stare I give her. She curtseys and backs out of my room.
I put down my sewing and walk over to my desk. Reaching under a bundle of cloth, I extract a stack of papers, some written on, but most blank.
They are letters addressed to Draco, or will be addressed to him. The letters will never be sent, I gave up sending letters to him after my fifth letter failed to receive a reply.
But every day, sometimes even several times a day, I pick up a pen and sit at my desk, beginning every letter with "Dear Draco".
It is the only way I manage to keep sane. I write every worry, every hope that I have for the future, all my anger and grievances on the paper. Every time I conclude with "Your loving Hermione", I always feel better.
Maybe someday, I think to myself, I will escape this prison and show my unsent letters to Draco.
So what do you readers think? Don't hesitate to tell me how you find the story so far!