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Flower of the Court by londonmalfoy13

Format: Short story
Chapters: 4
Word Count: 5,595
Status: WIP

Rating: 12+
Warnings: Mild Language

Genres: Romance
Characters: Draco
Pairings: Draco/Hermione

First Published: 03/11/2006
Last Chapter: 03/24/2006
Last Updated: 03/24/2006


Thanks so much to CelticKisses for the beautiful banner! Over the summer, Hermione finds out that she is adopted. Along with this new change, Hermione discovers a secret power of time travel shared by none other than Draco Malfoy. But what will happen when something goes wrong?

Chapter 1: A Summer Surprise
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Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.

This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.

“Hermione, darling,” Hermione’s mum said, “We need to talk.”

Hermione Granger stopped herself from heading out the door to the library. It was the summer before her sixth year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and there were only two weeks until school started up again. Hermione’s hair was as bushy as ever, but she had grown up, filling out in all the right places. Her honey brown eyes glimmered with worry as she sat down silently on the floral print love seat across from her mum.

‘Uh Oh,’ Hermione thought to herself. Everybody knows that ‘we need to talk’ are the four most dreaded words in the English language. Whatever her parents had to say could not be good. Her father entered the room with a box of Kleenex, a sure sign that what they had to talk about would be disturbing enough to possibly make her cry.

“Hermione, throughout all of these years, you have excelled at witchcraft, and you know that we love you and are proud of you,” her mum, Gladys, said, tears already forming around her aqua blue eyes.

“But the fact remains that there is something of great importance that we must discuss with you. You are one of the brightest witches of your age, or at least according to that magic newspaper that you showed us. Yet your father and I are what do you call them... oh yes, muggles!” Gladys said, her voice steadily becoming more and more shaky.

“Yes, mum, I’ve known that since I was eleven. What does that matter?” Hermione questioned in confusion.

“You see, Hermione honey, sixteen years ago was a rather dangerous period in England,” Hermione’s father, Tom, began to explain, “Us regular people, muggles, were dying mysteriously. Since your mother and I could not have any children back then, we decided to adopt. When we went to the orphanage, the lady informed us of the war in the wizarding world.”

“Of course, at first we laughed at her,” Tom continued, “Magic! Who ever heard of such a nonsensical idea? Then, she showed us the war torn streets of Diagon Alley. We were shocked that such a thing could be going on without anyone else knowing about it. The lady convinced us to adopt a baby who would grow up to belong to this strange world of magic. We agreed and brought that baby home. We cared and loved it as if it were our own child. That baby, Hermione, was you.”

Hermione simply sat there, speechless from the shocking story that apparently was her life. She couldn’t believe it, that she Hermione Granger, wasn’t even Hermione Granger at all. What was her last name? What were her real parents like? Were they dead or alive? Thoughts swam in Hermione’s mind and she began to fell rather faint.

“Last June, while you were still in school, we received a letter from your real parents. They wish to have you returned to them, and your mother and I have no choice but to obey. Tomorrow you must go to their house, and you shall spend the rest of your summer there. In fact you are to live there from now on,” Tom said, his usually merry voice beginning to crack with grief.

“But... why now? And why did they give me up for adoption?” Hermione questioned in a soft, disbelieving voice.

“We were told that they were afraid for your safety during the first wizarding war. Apparently they thought that it was dangerous for a baby. As for why now, I’m afraid that I don’t know,” her father replied, tears now streaming down his face as he reached for a Kleenex.

At this point, Hermione was the only one who was not in tears. She was still too shocked to cry. How could this happen to her? Harry was the orphan, not her. True her real parents were alive, but Hermione could never come to love them as she did the Granger’s.

Gladys reached out and hugged Hermione, practically suffocating her. Tom quickly came over and joined them in a huge group suffocate-Hermione hug. Soon, Hermione was soaking wet from the tears shed by her parents, or rather, her adoptive parents.

“Hermione darling, I love you so much. Please don’t ever forget us. I don’t want to let my baby go,” Gladys sobbed into Hermione’s neck, still refusing to let go of her precious Hermione.

“Don’t worry, I’ll never forget you both. I’ll never stop loving you,” Hermione whispered fiercely, the tears that had previously refused to fall, now cascading down her face.

Hermione sat on her bed, packing her suitcase and preparing to leave. Her mascara and eyeliner were now smeared down her face, evidence of her tears. She couldn’t decide on what to pack. Should she take all of her clothes? Or just a few in hopes of getting new ones?

What did it even matter, though? Hermione was still too upset to worry about clothes. She was leaving her family, the people who sheltered her and clothed her. Nothing could get worse than that!

On the bright side, however, she was starting a new journey that would surely be filled with adventure. She would be just like one of the characters in her beloved books. That’s what she should take! How could Hermione, book worm Gryffindor forget her books?

If she became lonely or frightened at her new home, she would always have Lizzy Bennet or Catherine Earnshaw to keep her company. Her favorite books were ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and ‘Wuthering Heights’. Hermione always admired Elizabeth’s quick wit and intelligence, and Catherine’s spunk and adventure. And the romance in both of these books was enough to sweep her away into a whole new world were all of her troubles were forgotten.

Hermione picked up her worn copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and began to let her fears and worries dissolve into the story of Elizabeth Bennet and her Mr. Darcy. Before she knew it, Hermione was fast asleep, her book still in her hands, dreaming of distant lands were every body lived happily ever after.


Chapter 2: Last Goodbyes
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Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.

This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.

The next morning, Hermione Granger’s jukebox alarm clock woke her from her peaceful dreams. She yawned as sunshine shown through the white lace curtains that covered her window. Another new day, and she wondered what sort of things would happen.

Then a wave of horror flashed through her body as she remembered yesterday’s conversation that would forever change her life. Today was the day that she would move to her new home with her new family. Hermione wondered what they would be like, and what sort of house she would live in. She hoped that she would be able to get along with them, for it would be horrible if she hated her new parents.

Suddenly, a new question popped into her head. This question filled her with dread at the unknown answer. Would she ever be allowed to see the Granger’s again? They were the people that raised her, and she loved them very much. If she couldn’t ever see or speak to them again, Hermione would be lost.

‘Well, I guess that there is only one way to find out. I must get dressed and go meet these people that are to be my family,’ Hermione thought glumly. If there was one thing that she didn’t want to do, it was to leave home. ‘But this is not home any more, Hermione,’ she told herself, ‘pretty soon you’ll find out what your new home will be like.’

So, with a heavy heart, Hermione got up and walked to her tiny wardrobe. Her clothing options were rather limited, because her family hadn’t had enough money to spend on clothes shopping since Gladys lost her job at the hospital. And it didn’t exactly help that Tom’s job as a librarian wasn’t exactly paying that well these days. Every night Gladys tried all sorts of new recipes to make their food stretch. Now, Hermione supposed that it would be a little easier with one less mouth to feed.

Slowly and carefully, Hermione chose her favorite outfit. Her blue jeans were soft and frayed from being frequently worn. Her shirt was black with blue stars sprinkled on the front. Hermione felt comfortable in these clothes, even if she did not necessarily look “presentable” for meeting new people.

After a silent breakfast, in which everyone was too nervous and upset to speak, Hermione and the Granger’s got into their old beat up station wagon. The same uncomfortable silence that filled the breakfast table soon filled the car.

“I promise that I will write letters to you both,” Hermione said, in an attempt to break the awkwardness.

“Oh, Hermione,” Gladys cried, tears already reforming in her eyes, “We will miss you so much. I don’t know how I will live without you.”

“I know, I know,” Hermione murmured, tears beginning to well up in her eyes as well.

“Every day we will ask the postman if he has any letters from you. We will write too,” Tom said, his voice beginning to crack.

“Let’s not talk about it any more,” Hermione pleaded, “I don’t want to leave and remember us all I tears. I want to remember the happy times, not like this.”

Everyone knew that they wouldn’t be able to say anything without crying, so they turned on the radio and put in a CD. Elvis Presley’s voice filled the station wagon, the only thing that could sooth Hermione. Elvis was her favorite singer, and he had the same magical effect of helping to brighten her mood as her books did.

Love me tender

Love me sweet

Never let me go

You have made my life complete

And I love you so

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfill

For my darling

I love you

And I always will

Three hours later, the rusty old station wagon pulled into a long drive way that was lined with roses and tulips. A heavy old iron gate was open, as if they were expecting them. The house that they pulled up to was absolutely humongous. Huge columns of white marble seemed to stretch up forever, and diamond pane stained glass windows sparkled amongst the grey stone of the house. As pretty as it was, there was something dark and forbidding about the house.

“Well, Hermione, this is it,” Tom said shakily.

“What? Aren’t you coming in with me?” Hermione demanded, shocked that her parents would leave her all alone to meet some strangers that judging from their house, seemed like they would be rather snobby.

“I don’t think that they would... like that very much,” Gladys said slowly.

“So, this is really good bye?” Hermione asked, reality finally setting in.

“Good bye, Hermione darling. I love you so much. Please don’t forget about us,” Gladys sobbed as she reached out and hugged her baby, whom she had raised from infancy, for the last time.

“Good bye, mum. Of course I’ll never forget you. Just like I won’t stop loving you. Good bye dad, don’t forget to write,” Hermione said, managing to hold back the tears that were threatening to overflow.

“Hermione...” Tom said through the tears that were now streaming down his face, “Hermione, I’ll miss you! Never forget that I love you. Your mother and I both do. Good bye, my darling Hermione, good bye.”

The station wagon pulled away, leaving Hermione standing alone, clutching her small suitcase on the steps of the huge house that was now the place that she would call home. This was it, the moment that she would meet her parents; the moment that she would cease to be Hermione Granger, the mudblood with the poor parents.

Gathering up all of her courage, Hermione walked over to the heavy oak door that looked as if it had been keeping enemies out for centuries. She heard footsteps approaching, and knew that in a moment, her life would change forever, when she would meet her new parents.

Authors note: Sorry that this chapter is sort of short. Future ones will be longer, I was just really tired tonight. My neighbors have been setting off fireworks all day, so my nerves are wearing thin. It would make me REALLY HAPPY IF YOU WOULD ALL REVIEW!

The song above is ‘Love Me Tender’ by Elvis Aaron Presley, King of Rock n Roll, who is in my opinion (and in Hermione’s!), the greatest singer of all time!

Chapter 3: Meet the Parents
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Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.

This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Hermione could hear footsteps approaching the door, and she knew that there was no turning back. Who would she see when that door would open? What would her new parents be like? Would they like her, or would they shrink back in disappointment?

The massive oak door opened, and Hermione turned to face her parents. She was expecting someone with a cold and arrogant manner, but that was the last word to describe the woman who was standing in the door frame.

The woman in the doorway had brown hair that hung in gentle ringlets and was highlighted with streaks of blonde. Her face was round, and she wore little make-up, emphasizing her natural beauty. Her honey brown eyes, which were just like Hermione’s, sparkled with excitement.

“Are you Hermione Granger?” She asked, her voice revealing that she could barely contain her excitement.

“Yes,” Hermione said cautiously. Was this woman her mother?

The woman squealed in excitement and quickly enveloped Hermione in a warm hug. When she finally let go, Hermione saw that the honey eyes that were so much like her own were filled with tears of happiness.

“I am sorry,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes, and trying to regain her calm composure, “It is just that it is so wonderful to finally see you after all of these long years! I have been dreaming of this moment for so long and now it is finally real!”

“You must be wondering who I am,” the woman continued, “Hermione, I am your mother. My name is Priscilla Zabini, which means that your name is Hermione Zabini.”

At this point, Hermione was still standing on the doorstep, clutching her suitcase. Her mother, Priscilla, was still too caught up in the excitement of finally meeting her beloved child that she had momentarily lost her manners, and forgot to invite Hermione inside. But Hermione felt a strange sense of discomfort when she heard the name ‘Zabini’. The name sounded so familiar, but Hermione couldn’t quite place where she heard the name before.

“Oh, how silly of me,” Priscilla gasped, “Come in, Hermione, come in! Welcome to Zabini Manor. Don’t be shy, come inside!”

Hermione reluctantly stepped inside to the gorgeous hall, and her breath caught in her throat as she stared in amazement at the room. The floor was tiled in ebony and ivory, and the walls were a crisp, yet elegant white, with pictures of various witches and wizards that Hermione assumed were her ancestors on the walls. At the far end of the hall was a black iron wrought spiral staircase. A quite expensive looking Persian rug was a the base of the staircase, and candelabras on the wall provided a dim light.

“You can just leave your suitcase there, it will be taken care of,” Priscilla said, with a careless wave of her hand, “Come in here to the parlor where you can meet your father, and your brother, Blaise.”

Suddenly Hermione realized exactly where she heard the name ‘Zabini’. Memories of Hogwarts came flooding back to her, and she recalled the boy with jet black hair who always accompanied Draco Malfoy. Blaise Zabini, her brother, was Malfoy’s best friend! Hermione stood there, too horrorstruck to move.

“You do want to meet them, don’t you?” Priscilla asked in concern, noticing that Hermione had not moved, and had a look of terror on her face.

“Oh, yes, of course I would,” Hermione said quickly, thoughts swimming through her head as she followed Priscilla into a room decorated in gold and black. If she was a Zabini, did that mean that she would be expected to befriend Malfoy? Because if she was, fat chance that t would actually happen.

When she entered the room, Hermione noticed a man sitting on one couch, and none other than Blaise Zabini sitting in an over stuffed chair. Blaise had jet black hair and vivid blue eyes that flashed with surprise when he saw Hermione. He immediately recognized Hermione as the Gryffindor Golden Girl, who was best friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasly.

“Blaise, this is your sister, Hermione. Paulo, come here,” Priscilla announced.

Hermione’s father, Paulo, immediately got up and hugged Hermione. His black hair was speckled with grey, and he smelled of cigar smoke. Blaise, on the other hand, only got up when he felt his mothers disapproving stare. He seemed to still be in shock from finding out that Hermione “mudblood” Granger was actually his long lost sister.

“Uh, Hermione... it’s nice to meet you,” Blaise said.

“Same here,” Hermione replied briskly, hoping that he wouldn’t start in on her later after Priscilla and Paulo left, “Although I must admit that I am rather surprised to find out that you are my brother.”

“Oh, you two know each other already?” Paulo questioned, his own blue eyes shimmering with amusement.

“Something like that,” Blaise muttered, “Listen, Hermione, do you want me to show you around the manor? Or how about the gardens?”

“I would very much like to see the gardens,” Hermione replied, sensing that Blaise wanted to talk, not necessarily show her how many fountains and flowers here were in the garden.

“I’m so glad that you two are getting along so well already,” Priscilla said fondly.

“Yes, well, why would we not get along?” Hermione said, while Blaise silently snickered, “We’ll be back in a little while.”


When the two siblings stepped outside, and began walking down a winding path that was a maze of flowers and huge hedges, Hermione was once again speechless in wonder. Tall hedges formed walls that were the backdrop of a gorgeous display of flowers. There was every sort of flower imaginable, such as roses, daffodils, daisies, chrysanthemums, and a wide array of magical that Hermione couldn’t even name.

“Bloody hell, Granger, how can you be my sister?” Blaise exclaimed as soon as they were out of earshot from the house.

“Well, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about it,” Hermione said, rather taken aback by his accusing tone, “If you don’t like the fact that I’m your sister, then I guess that you’re shit out of luck, ‘cos it isn’t like I asked to be your sister.”

“What?” Blaise asked, also seeming surprised by Hermione’s reply, “I didn’t mean it like that. It is just that all my life, I knew that I had a sister out there somewhere, but I didn’t know who. When I found out that it was you, it just caught me off guard.”

Hermione blushed slightly, suddenly ashamed of how she just snapped at him like that, without giving him a chance to explain. So he felt just as flabbergasted as she did. Maybe she could over the fact that he was a Slytherin, and begin to think of him as her brother.

“Listen, I was wondering if we could forget our past, and have a fresh start. Anyway, it’s not as if we ever really bothered each other,” Blaise said somewhat hopefully.

“Yeah, I guess that you’re right. It was just really that you are in Slytherin, and I am in Gryffindor, but I suppose that none of that really matters now,” Hermione admitted.

“Okay, that is good that’s out of the way. So, how do you like the manor? “ Blaise questioned.

“Well, it is certainly is big enough,” Hermione mused, “But honestly, I think that it is absolutely stunning. It is just like a fairy tale castle.”

“If you think that this is big, then you should see Malfoy Manor,” Blaise informed her.

“Ewwww, Malfoy,” Hermione whined, feeling sick at the mention of the blonde haired boy who for so many lives had made her life a living hell, “I suppose that since he is your best friend, I will be seeing rather quite a bit of him, won’t I?”

“Oh, he’s really not that bad, Hermione. He was just jealous of your grades, and didn’t like the fact that a ‘mudblood’ beet him in all his grades. But nobody will be saying anything bad about my little sister if I can help it” Blaise said in a protective tone.

“Hey! Malfoy!” Hermione exclaimed in sudden realization, “Malfoy is going to absolutely freak when he finds out that I am a pureblood!”

“Yeah, I suppose that he will,” Blaise chuckled, “Tonight is the night that you will be presented as Hermione Zabini, pureblood witch.”

“Why? What’s tonight?” Hermione questioned, full of curiosity.

“Tonight is our annual masquerade ball,” Blaise announced.

A Masquerade ball! Hermione’s honey eyes flashed with excitement, for she had always wanted to go to a masquerade ball, and now she was. This new life really did seem to be a fairy tale, and all that was missing was her handsome knight in shining armor.


Authors note: Please don’t kill me! I realize that Draco and the time travel have not been in the story yet, but I promise that they will be shortly. Draco will be in the next chapter, and the time travel will be in the one after that. I PROMISE, cross my heart and hope to die. It would make me REALLY HAPPY IF YOU WOULD ALL REVIEW!

Chapter 4: Masquerade Magic
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Disclaimer- To my great misfortune, it is JK Rowling that is amazingly rich for creating the characters of Harry Potter, not me.

This is my second fanfic. Please review, but do not flame. Constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror. If she didn’t know any better, she wouldn’t be able to recognize herself. No one would be able to guess that only yesterday, she was Hermione Granger. Now she looked every bit of the pureblood Zabini that she was.

That afternoon, Priscilla suggested that they should go shopping for some new clothes for her. Hermione expected for them to shop in Diagon Alley, but instead they made their purchases at Paris’s most exclusive shopping district for purebloods. All of the salespeople in each store made it their personal mission to find the perfect robes for Hermione.

They bought so many robes, that Hermione couldn’t think of when she could possibly wear them all. It simply wasn’t practical to have so many silk and satin robes. But then again, she wasn’t a mudblood who always was worrying about her next meal anymore. She was a Zabini, a pureblood, and filthy rich. Now Hermione could afford to live lavishly and spend her money on luxurious things.

Just when Hermione finally thought that they were done with their shopping, Priscilla insisted on taking her to the chicest hair salon this side of the English Channel. Hair that was once bushy brown was now silky soft, and fell into perfect waves. Black streaks framed her newly tanned face, and black eyeliner framed her honey brown eyes. She wore lipstick in a shade called ‘tiara’, and her cheeks were a dusky rose color. She looked as if she belonged in a magazine.

However, it was her costume that stunned her. Dressed as a medieval princess, she wore a black and gold dress with a square, low cut neckline. The skirt opened up to reveal petticoats of golden lace, and her sleeves flowed down until they met the floor. On her head, she wore a gold tiara that was encrusted with rubies. Her necklace was a single ruby, that although beautiful, also resembled a droplet of blood. She wore a mask of gold that was shaped like vines that entwined with red ruby roses, and sapphire bluebells.

She was still gazing into the mirror in a state of wonderment when the door opened, and Priscilla stepped in. She was dressed as the Greek goddess Hera, Queen of Mount Olympus, in a white toga that sparkled with diamonds.

“Oh, Hermione, dear,” she said, her usually giggly voice now warm and motherly, “You look a picture. All the boys at the masquerade won’t be able to take their eyes off of you. Come now, the carriage is waiting.”


Hermione stepped out of the carriage, and gazed in awe at the glorious house in front of her. It was colossal, even bigger than her own house. The extensive front lawn, which was littered with other purebloods, dressed in a wide variety of costumes, was magically lit by floating candles. A large orchestra was playing what sounded like Beethoven, but since he was a muggle, it was likely that it was not.

Suddenly, a tall and graceful woman came gliding over towards them. She was dressed as the legendary Egyptian princess, Cleopatra, except this woman had blonde hair. Hermione took her to be roughly the same age as Priscilla, but she somehow seemed a bit more sophisticated and mature than Priscilla.

“Priscilla, darling, how delightful that you are here at last!” the blonde woman exclaimed, wrapping Priscilla into a hug, “but who is this exquisite beauty?”

“Narcissa, I would like you to meet my daughter. This is Hermione Lavinia Zabini. Hermione, this is my good friend Narcissa Malfoy,” Priscilla said, introducing them.

‘A Malfoy!’ Hermione thought. No wonder she thought that blonde hair looked so familiar. This was Draco Malfoy’s mother! Well, if his mother was here, then that probably unfortunately meant that Draco was lurking around here somewhere.

“Oh, my! So you are Priscilla’s daughter, eh? Well it is lovely to see that you re finally here with us, as you belong. Now, why don’t you run along and enjoy yourself? You’re mother and I have some gossip to catch up on,” Narcissa suggested.

Rather a bit reluctantly, Hermione started walking through the crowd, trying to figure out what to do. She never really was one to dance, as she didn’t think that she could do anything except to slow dance. Yet she was too shy to ask any of these strange boys to dance with her. So, the question of what to do came back.

“Just bloody great,” Hermione muttered to herself under her breath, “You finally get invited to a masquerade ball, and you have nothing to do except stand around looking bored.”

Looking around, Hermione saw gardens grounds stretching far behind the immense house. These gardens were just as beautiful and large, if not larger, as the gardens that she had briefly explored that morning. Tall hedges created maze like paths, and strange lights flickered. Hermione ventured onto the path, losing sight of the house, and discovered that what she assumed were more floating candles, were actually tiny fairies fluttering about. Around the corner, she saw a dazzling decorative fountain that shot sparkling baby blue water out of the horn of a sculpted unicorn that was enchanted to gallop around the pool of the fountain. This garden was the most breathtaking view that she could ever hope to see.

The magical silence was broken, however, when Hermione heard a twig snap from somewhere behind her. Hermione was a bit afraid to turn around, not knowing what she would be faced with. But in this magical garden, how could there be anything evil? She was still having a mental argument about it in her head, when she heard a soft and gentle, yet questioning voice in her ear.

“Who are you? Aphrodite? Venus? Fair Juliet? For whoever you are, you are enchanting,” the voice confessed.

Hermione whirled around to face this person who thought he could say such things to her. Did he not know that she was a Zabini? She was not some girl that he could bullshit into believing that romantic crap. True, Hermione was a romantic at heart, and it was also true that she was waiting for her prince charming, a guy just like Heathcliffe from ‘Wuthering Heights’, but she did not think that this guy was serious.

That is what she thought at least, until she caught sight of him. Dressed as a heroic knight, he practically glowed with good looks. His pale skin was just like the moon shining above them, and his vivid grey- blue eyes were soft, and sparkled like the sun. His hair was covered with a helmet that shined. There were no other words to describe him other than her knight in shining armor.

“Hello,” she uttered softly, momentarily speechless, but she quickly recovered, “Who are you?”

“I asked you that first,” he replied, his grey eyes that seemed so familiar, yet so new and different to her, glittering mischievously.

“If you would like to know my name, then you must wait a bit longer, seeing as I do not feel like giving it at the moment,” Hermione said coolly, waiting to see his reaction.

At first he looked surprised, for you could tell that with his good looks, most girls would already be drooling, but he quickly masked his look of surprise, and said, “Well, I shall give you my name when you give me yours. For now, I will just have to settle with calling you my fair lady, seeing as you refuse to tell me your name.”

“But who says that I am your fair lady? I belong to no one,” She replied flirtatiously. What had gotten into her? She always frowned down upon those girls who would sound so foolish flirting with a boy, yet here she was doing it herself. She couldn’t help it; simply being around this boy was intoxicating.

“Fine, fair lady whom belongs to no one, would you care to dance with me?” he asked, bowing like a perfect gentleman. His whole manner may have been normally sickeningly romantic, but Hermione’s heart melted when he smiled.

“I would love to, kind sir,” she said curtsying, and mimicking his formal manner.

The music from the party wafted into the small cobblestone path that they began to waltz on. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, feeling oddly at ease with this stranger whom she had just met. They waltzed in silence for another few minutes. It was not an awkward silence, but it was as if they were communicating to each other on a subconscious level.

Then, just as all good things must come to an end, the song was at last finished, and Hermione reluctantly broke away. She heard the clock strike mid night, and feeling rather a bit like Cinderella, she knew that it was time for her to retire into her bedchamber. Just as everyone did at these sorts of events, she would, of course, be spending the night in a spare bedchamber of the host’s house.

“Wait, where are you going?” her prince charming implored as she started to walk back towards the manor.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Hermione murmured softly.

Her knight rubbed his temples in exasperation, as he replied, “Well, if you must go, at least let me walk you back.”

But it was too late; she was already gone.


“This was a perfect night,” Hermione sighed, smiling inwardly at remembering her knight in shining armor. He was so... chivalrous and romantic. She felt like she was in love, but she knew that she had not known him long enough to be in love.

Perhaps she would see him tomorrow, in the gardens for a morning stroll. The Malfoy’s truly did have a gorgeous garden. Speaking of Malfoy, Hermione was really glad that she did not have to put up with his cruel sneers and snide remarks. She could just imagine the look of shock on his face when he saw her with her new beau. After all, she could remember him once commenting that no one could ever fall in love with a bucktoothed book worm like her. Although, it wasn’t as if he was in any position to say such things, as she was sure that no one could possibly ever love him either.


Authors note: What do you think? I really like this chapter. I know it a little sickeningly sweet with the romance, but not for long.

You all do realize who the knight in shining armor is, don’t you? Skin as pale as moonlight, and gorgeous grey- blue eyes that sparkle like the sun? Well, if you don’t get it, then you’ll just have to wait until next chapter to find out!

NOTE: time travel will be in the next chapter!