Chapter 3
The room was large,
like that of a ballroom. The ceiling so high, it was almost invisible. The
walls upholstered in emerald satin wallpaper, with silver pattered floral
designs running through it. The dark maple floor shined to a high, glossy
polish. There were from what she could see6 silver chandlers hanging from the
ceiling, and several silver brackets on the walls. On the far right of the room
was a large black marble fireplace that could hold at least 10 good size men in
its opening. Curtains of green and black oriental design across from the double
maple doors she had entered the room at, there where green and silver sofas and
chairs along the walls at various intervals. She noticed only the one set of
doors into the room assuming there were others, but hidden amongst the darkness
of the room, only a small fire burning in the heath. Her bare feet made no
noise as she walked into the room, the strong hand on her arm firm, but not too
tight. She had, once the blindfold was taken off looked at the eyes of the man whom was giving
her the gift of sight back stared into dark orbs of liquid black, and guessing
more then anything as to whom he was but otherwise hidden beneath silver mask.
He walked her quietly through the tastefully elegant house, and finally ended
in this room. He guided her to a chair in the middle of the room, that were
surround by no less then 30 other people, all of them, similar to her escort,
wearing silver masks and black robes.
The one whom had
neither of those things on was not what she had pictured if her assumptions
were correct.
She had talked to both
Harry and Ginny about Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort as if they were two
separate people. The man that Ginny had described was a dead ringer, completely
defying Harry’s looks of the man, her thoughts running rampage through her head,
as she looked at this man whom no other words could describe as utterly
gorgeous.
He was tall well past the others in the circle
that surround them as he stepped forward as soon as her chaperon released her.
His shoulder length blue-black hair framed his full angular face to perfection.
Lips as red as blood smirked almost genially at her, Skin as pale as the moon,
large roman nose, square jaw and high cheekbone made her wonder what potion he
would have to take to look that startling. But it was the eyes that made her
want to run to him, olive shaped fringed in long spiky black lashes, and eyes
so dark and dangerous that she felt he could see right into her soul. Dressed
in black trousers, white button shirt, with a few left unbutton to show a
glimpse o a lightly covered hair chest, and black jacket. He looked the epitome
of wealth and prestige. When he spoke in a rich silky baritone, it was almost
like a caress. It took every ounce of courage for her not to swoon when he
spoke.
“Good Evening Miss
Granger, I trust you journey was well?” he asked lightly, and amused expression
that did not quite meet his eyes on his face as he walked around her, long
finger hands around his back as he treaded lightly on the wood floor making
nary a sound.
“Yes, Sir,” she said
meekly, fighting both terror and animal instinct to stay were she was and
refusing to give into whatever pull he had on her.
“No need for the
formality Hermione. Voldemort or Tom if that’s easier will be fine…” The Dark
Lord said lightly, as he stopped moving to stand in front of her, keeping her
head down she nodded while still looking at her white knuckled hands on her
lap, refusing to look up. His black leather shoes the only thing visible in her
eye ranger.
“I have a question my dear, do you know how many people in the past century have
passed the practical of their O.W.L.’s with a perfect score?” Voldemort asked
quickly, she jerked her head up in surprise as she looked at him. Toms’ small
smile causing her hands to tremble. She looked back down and shook her head in
response.
“Guess…” he commanded
softly, his smile widening as he looked at the young women.
“One Hundred?” she
said to her knees, she felt rather then saw a long fingered hand reach under
her chin and tilt her head up.
“Less, try again,” he
said as he looked at her. Toms’ full lips so close hers it astounded her. She
took a shack breath before saying, in a low whisper
“Five,
and I know at least three are in this room…Please let me go…” she pleaded as
tears of shame sprang to her eyes.
“All good things come
to those whom wait…” Tom said quietly as he leaned forward and kissed her oh so
gently on the lips
**************
She woke up with his name coming out of her mouth. Her days spent trying to forget him, while her nights filled with dreams of him.
It had been over a week since she had told Harry the truth. Moreover,
never had a week felt more like a decade then this last one did. She had buried
herself in her books and in the potions lab.
She wiped away the tears that began to fall again and tried not to think about it anymore. She walked away from the window and grabbed her dressing gown from her chair by her desk. The room was large, done with pale green and violet, with a white canopy bed and matching dresser, armoire, and desk. She had a private fire and direct connection to the Gryffindor Common Room and the Headmaster’s office. She walked out of her room into her shared sitting room only to find Draco Malfoy, sitting on the sofa. He smirked as she came into the room.
“Morning, Draco,” Hermione said cordially, as she nodded her head and began walking towards their shared washroom.
“Hermione, sleep well?” Draco asked smoothly, the smirk on his face, widening even more, making her wonder what he was up too.
“Yes, Fine, thank you, is there something you need to talk about?” she asked briskly, in hopes of ending this conversation quickly. His smirk if possible grew more.
“Yes, our esteemed Headmaster left a message that we’re to meet with him in a half and hour…” He said silkily, his gray eyes hooded.
“Ok, Thanks,” She replied before turning and heading for the wooden door opposite of where he sat on the sofa, she was three steps away when he said in a craftily innocent voice.
“Oh and Potter stopped by, but left a couple of minutes ago, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, but for some reason couldn’t wait any longer...” Draco said nonchalantly. She felt her heart jump to her throat and in a choky voice asked.
“H-H-Harry was here?” she asked, as she spun around and looked at the Draco her eyes wide in disbelief. The walls though stone were not sound proof and she could only imagine what he heard coming from her bedroom moments before.
“Don’t worry,” Draco, said as the smirk vanished and a look
of pity flashed across his pale features, “I put a silencing charm on the room
before he entered. I don’t believe The Boy Who Lived would enjoy the women he
loves screaming out his worst enemy’s name as if in the throws of passion. He
had to go to the Great Hall to see Professor Lupin about something. He wants to
meet you tonight in the Library at
Hermione turned and ran to the washroom, barely making it to the toilet before spewing up last night’s dinner. She rested her head on her arm that lay across the sit and stayed like this for several minutes, waiting for the pain in her stomach to go away and her body stop trembling. She finally stood up on shaky knees, and took several slow deep breath and looked in the mirror.
The pale heart shaped face was a mess; her cheeks were blotchy and streaked with tearstains. The brown eyes wide, filled with fear and blood shot from insipid dreams of a dangerous dark wizard. Her lips bloody from chronically biting them and hair looking very much likes a rat’s nest.
All and all she had better days and wondered when one would be in sight.
With a flick of her wand the shower started. She walked to the sink, splashing cold water on her face, and brushing her teeth vigorously, getting the after of sickness out of her mouth and off her breath. She took of her dressing gown and nightgown before stepping into the steaming hot shower, letting the water wash away the feeling of shame she carried everywhere she went.
Ten minutes later, she stepped out of the shower, charmed her hair dry, and pulled it up into a loose bun on top of her head. She dressed quickly in a tan jumper and brown corduroy overalls looking both preppy yet comfortable. She slid into her brown hiking boots, checked her watch, and saw she had 5 minutes before she was to be at the Headmasters office. Hermione pocketed her wand, grabbed her brown leather jacket, and took off.
She was walking briskly down the hall, when she quite literally ran into someone else. A tall, raven haired and eyed man whom she thought would be gone today, as he said he would be last night. It was his quick reflexes that stopped them both from either of them fall on top of one another. Snape’s arms snacked around hers to hold her steady. Unlike when most people touched her, filling of fear, she felt the exact opposite this time. She looked up into his dark hooded eyes and felt relief and a sense of calm fill her right down to her toes.
“10 point from Gryffindor for clumsiness Miss Granger, perhaps eye glasses like your boyfriend would benefit you as well.” Snape sneered, as he dropped his hands from her upper arms and took a step back. Again, for the second time that day she felt sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes and nodded before walking away, her steps quiet on the stone floor as she walked with a heavy heart to the Headmaster’s office, when all she really wanted to do is find a corner and cry. She didn’t notice Professor Snape following at a distance heading in the same direction. She barely even noticed when he said the password “Reece Pieces” the gargoyle moving or climbing the step. The door to the Headmaster’s office was open. It wasn’t until she felt a hand on her shoulder guide her into the circular room and up the steps to a winged back chair that she regained consciousness to her surroundings. Arthur Weasley and Professor Lupin talking quietly to themselves, both stopping as she and Professor Snape came into the room. Draco and Charlie Weasley listening to the older men, both were looking grave. The Headmaster sitting in his usual splendid glory, his expression neutral, blue eyes calm lips in a thin line.
“Good Morning Miss Granger, Severus tea?” Albus asked genially as a silver tray with a white china tea set floated in between the two new arrivals.
With out even responding Snape took one of the cups, poured hot water over the tea leaves inside, added sugar and creamer and handed her the glass, before waving the tray away. She took a sip of the steaming liquid and felt some warmth enter her body.
“So what news do you have for us Severus?” Albus asked curiously.
“The Dark Lord has made a special request,” He stated carefully, black eyes narrowed, as he looked at Hermione before looking back at the Headmaster. With the barest of nods, Albus acknowledged his understanding.
“Continue,” Albus, said quietly, the twinkle in his eye vanishing.