Chapter 9 : Waiting for the King
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Hermione looked up to her protector, smiling. At this point in time, if Malfoy didn’t give in to her request, she would’ve attacked him instantly in order to get the blood. Since he did however, she was ready to do anything to save her father from delirium and the risk of being controlled.
“What Malfoy?” Hermione asked with eyes gleaming in happiness. “Please tell me.”
“Don’t hold back.”
And he kissed Hermione with all the love he could muster. Surprisingly, Hermione kissed him back.
Then a snap.
Hermione’s palm forcefully collided with Malfoy’s cheek. Obviously, it was a huge, painful slap.
The princess looked her protector with a sly smile, almost as if pitying the serpent and his wounded ego.
“Hey you told me not to hold back, didn’t you?” she said snarkily. Then she sauntered out to the halls, leaving lack jawed Malfoy in her wake.
Hermione sat beside her father, looking all distraught. She completed the potion for the curse two days ago and she was waiting for him to wake up. In the king’s slumber, the castle was covered with tension so thick that people almost swear that they are suffocated from it like they are under huge amounts of blankets. The Italian Ministry forces roamed the corridor, making sure that the castle is perfectly safe. Seven knights from the Argdougne castle broke into the most somber vigil outside the king’s room, carrying big hopes that his majesty would wake up soon. The city was distraught, no doubt about it. Since the attack on the monarch, people are scared to leave their homes. No one, not even the frequent drunkards, dared to move around the streets at night. It was a moment of total sadness for most of the people.
The Ministry’s Law Enforcement Group tried to keep the people’s spirits up yet they failed to no avail. Nevertheless, they patrolled the streets as vigilant as ever. Not that it made a lot of difference really. Only the sad knights from the castle did so much as a difference. Oftentimes, Eric the Brave would much saunter into the streets as if nothing really happened, encouraging the people to leave their homes and face their fears.
The princess sat beside the king’s bed, eyes sad. The queen and her daughter, on the other hand seemed to be the only people who aren’t troubled at the implications of the royal’s slumber. She seemed to be quite the energetic one in fact.
“Dear me,” Elaine said. “I have no more of these cherry whiskeys from France,” she said as she raised her empty glass. “I should have Conrad buy me a new box, none less than the finest from Potskeins of course.” Postskeins is a famous wizarding French brand of alcohols. One bottle from the store could feed a family for a year. Hermione thought of the waste.
“Mother, can you please let me have one of those gowns down Kifton Street?” Hermione’s stepsister cooed. “I mean, now that you are in-charge of the funds around here, surely you can at least buy me two gowns from Kifton…”
‘So that’s what it is!’ Hermione thought. Now that the king is asleep, the Queen, her stepmother takes over all the financial stuff. That’s why the duo’s happy. They want to squander her father’s money. True, Hermione doesn’t know much about her father but she would definitely NOT take this lying down. This only proves that she spends way too much time with Harry and Ron – the blind righteousness is overpowering her.
Standing up, Hermione never did drop her father’s hand but her glare was intense on the Queen and her snotty daughter. Hermione was younger, yes but her ‘blind righteousness’ easily overlooked that fact.
“So that’s it huh?” Hermione said with hatred dripping from every word. Out of everything, Hermione detests betrayal the most. “You married my father for his money and power…”
Odd enough, a laugh came from the Queen’s paper thin lips. “Why dear,” voice filled with false sugar. “How in the world could you say such a thing? I married your father because I love him, not because of his,” looking at the drapes “riches” looking at his majesty’s face “or power.” She smiled at her.
Hermione’s eyes looked at her with such intensity that the Queen thought she was going to melt right there and there. Then her face softened. “But of course, Queen Elaine.” The lioness then resumed her seat.
Draco, standing by the shadows, looked at the exchange with great interest. The lioness was cunning after all.
Harry looked out of his own bedroom window. For record purposes, Harry Potter resided at the Ivy room at the Argdougne castle and not at the Dursley's smallest bedroom. With a hard-earned consent from Dumbledore - Hermione did all the begging - he was allowed to stay in the castle for the rest of the summer. With that in view, the Dursleys were obviously happy.
It would've been a happy summer for him and the rest of his friends if it wasn't for the stupid Malfoy's curse placed on his uncle. The shock has nonetheless kept him in doubt for a while but the connection between his dad and the king is undeniable. The ring was his father’s, no doubt about it for he himself saw him wearing it on one of the pictures Hagrid gave him as a farewell present.