Divide et Impera | By : Nephiel Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4238 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Divide et
impera, mi diabolicum draco
:†: Nephiel Nephilim :†:
Parte Prima
Capitolo Due ~ Sessantaseiesimo Sonetto
_____________________________________________________________
* * *
Meet
me in your dreams, graceful is your dance...
Sing
to my heart, voice all your love, so that I may be
closer to thee.
* * *
_____________________________________________________________
“Nice comeback, you’re worthy to acquire
the Malfoy name sister,” says he.
“Are you joking
me?” I then apply my trademark façade, cool and detached.
“Whatever, follow
me I’ll show you to your room,” he has a cool and detached façade too!
No fair!
“My things?” hey, I’m a girl. Albeit nine
but I’m still a girl and I need my girly stuff to keep this girl happy!
“I presume the house elves have already
brought them to your room,” I suppress a grunt, then upon registering the words
house elf I cringe and wonder if among my things the bloody vermin has
been brought along.
Several corridors with silent and creepy
portraits, a dozen of changing stairs and breathing armors after, I started to
believe we had spent more time walking around this manor than what we had spent
on our way to the place.
“Can I ask you a question?” I know I was
risking my none existent reputation; I mean, creating any type of bond with
this guy or even initiating any interaction(like talking or simply admitting my
ignorance by asking a question) was like cutting my hand before a Quidditch
game.
“Well you do realize that that one itself was a question right?” he’s smirking at me! As if
that would scare me!
“Is that even a reply?” I bark at him and
what does he do? He simply ignores my anger and grins smugly at his triumph
over my anger. It’s official, I’m peeved but Circe
forbid the day I’ll extern it.
“So much repressed anger isn’t good for your
sanity, come on fire the question,” so I guess he’s not all that bad. I’ll only
admit that. I grin at myself.
“Well I must admit I’m delighted to know
you care,” I smirk at him, “I was wondering, are we lost?” as soon as the words
leave my mouth he halts his stride and starts laughing. I mentally raise my
hand. Confused witch here! What’s so funny? I thought he’d be offended that I
even dared to reflect upon such a theory.
“No we’re not Black. I believe I know this
place better than any other Malfoy. I was actually taking the longest way to
our corridor with the intention of wearing you out of the idea of a tour of the
manor,” he admitted. In case you haven’t grasped the gravity of his action let
me explain. You just aren’t supposed to elucidate your tactics to a stranger.
Either the Malfoy’s cunning qualities aren’t what they’re set up to be or he’s
very confident. You might still be thinking along the lines...so? Well
then, I’ll put it in four words. I highly dislike him.
“As if you’d agree to show me around,” I
butt in my opinion about his manners, maybe it’s too risky displaying my
instant opinion about him (and high opinion at that, NOT!).
“True, that’s why I thought forwards and
tried to exhaust you in hopes you’d only want to sleep for the next, year and a
half? I’m not exactly in the mood to keep an eye on you and the dangers in this
manor are countless, believe me, I’ve lived here since I was born and that’s
ten years and one month of deathly adventures,” he said looking at me with the
tail of his eyes as if awaiting a praise for his tasks, “what do you have to
say about my strategy?” Ha-ha! I just knew it was coming, felt it in my bones.
“I say you think too much and make
assumptions on things you know little to nothing about,” did you really think I
was going to let you win this one? I mean, maybe someday I’ll let you see the
softest part of me and then we’ll braid each other’s hair all night long as we
recount fabulous tales, then we’ll like tell each other our deepest darkest
secrets and then...NOT! I plan to stick to my policy which implies no talking
to you, forming any type of parental bondage or anything of the sorts. They’re
too painful and take too much strength.
“I wasn’t presuming, I never make
conjectures about these things for the simple reason that I always know what
I’m talking about,” he says after a couple of minutes of pregnant silence. I
sigh, another kid who thinks he knows it all, Oh joy I guess I’m not alone.
“How old did you say you were?” I change
subject upon noticing his curious stare at my forlorn expression.
“Ten, you?”
“Nine,”
“When’s your birthday?”
“Why, were you planning on getting me a
gift?” I fake a smile as I look at him in the eyes, he gives me this look like right,
which puts me in edge and I surrender my answer, “September twenty-ninth, you?”
“May fourth,” and then silence finally
falls upon us. That is until three corridors after.
“Here we are, this is your room and that
one’s mine,” he indicates a door at the end of the corridor, how nice, our
doors face each other, “just in case you’re scared of thunderstorms,” he grins
at me smugly. Despicable skinny git. Then he
disappears behind his doors. I sigh and walk into my room. I actually hate
describing things and places but this room is worth a try.
As I open the door I stand before a
humongous room. I believe it occupies a whole tower, however as I watch the
room’s walls I notice a door to my right and one to my left. The main room is
made up of black marble flooring and ceiling which to my surprise is enchanted
to show outer space. The walls are an intricate design of silver random lines
on a black background, several old and creepy portraits adorn them. My things
are neatly piled in the center of the room which is like a lounge. A Victorian
décor I presume...’very nice,’ I say at every piece of furniture in the room.
The Persian carpets are splendid and the Venetian curtains make me want to cry,
I better check out the other two rooms before I start unpacking though.
The first room I walk to is
the one on my left. The door’s pretty heavy so I actually have to put some more
pressure on it and then, click, it’s open. My jaw plummets to the floor. It’s a
study room with its very own library, everything is made of cherry wood and I
love it, ‘remember who you are!’ [AN I’ve been waiting eons for the right fic
to insert this Lion King line ^.^ Hurray for me!!] says the schooled Hermione in me... ‘Ok, it’s...good enough.
I don’t love it, I appreciate it,’ there you go. Now that’s what
I’m supposed to say. Anyway, the library extends along the walls, except over
the fireplace, there’s a portrait there, a big portrait of a blond young man in
his late thirties, a Malfoy ancestor I suppose.
“And who are you?” hey, I like his voice.
Maybe because it doesn’t have your typical higher than thou Malfoyish attitude so I myself answer nicely which
surprises the both of us, him because I bet he died believing that no member of
the Malfoy family could possess emotions and I because I just didn’t know I had
it in me to be nice and sincere about it.
“My name is Hermione Akasha Teletha Black,”
I recite.
“A Black, are you a guest?” he sounds
surprised.
“Since my mother married
into the Malfoy family I guess I’m not, didn’t the other portraits
inform you?” well I’m in wonder.
“I fear I’m not very social, I still have manners
thought. My name is François Lestat Malfoy, It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he
presents himself.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Malfoy and
since I’ll be living here I’m glad I have made your acquaintance,” I smile my
most genuine smile. A sudden pop catches my attention, as I turn to prey upon
the intruder I glimpse the forming smile upon François’ face. Looking then at
the creature I beckon it to speak.
“I come to inform miss that dinner is
served, young master is awaiting,” says the elf in a
weak voice, ‘I know their race is weak but do they really have to be so open
about it? I hate weakness...’. As I debate these
thoughts I follow the creature to the dinning room after bidding the portrait
goodnight. This manor is bigger than the other one, however I don’t feel like
describing its details, lets just say it’s very
creepy.
* * *
As we near the dinning room I can hear a
crashing sound and from the semi opened door Draco’s voice comes thundering
down the corridor, I notice with the tail of the eye that the elf that’s
guiding me cringes at his voice, “You bloody thing! Watch what you’re doing!” comes his voice. I bet he has a dislike for the creatures
too. As I enter the room I can see him standing over a bundle of cloth,
grunting in rage, his robes are wet and suddenly I feel understanding for him
creep into my heart. I’m almost scared to admit that he could be like me. I
clear my throat gaining his attention. Malfoy’s don’t tolerate clumsiness,
that’s great because neither do Blacks.
“You’re late!” whatever! I give up, this
guy’s full of bad points, I totally deny any understanding I have of him. That
was so stupid of me to even think we could be alike and understand each other.
Look at his eyes, they’re so damn commanding and
disdainful. Only bad points, got it!
“It’s not my fault you’ve got slow
servants,” I hum and look at what I assume is my place. Upon close inspection I
notice that there are two vacant seats with waiting plates.
“Well sit down,” what are you ordering me
around? I glare at him but he just ignores me.
“We have guests ,
one is a distant relative of yours that you probably don’t know anything about
and the other is our beloved cousin Desmond Lestrange,” he informs me
and so my questioning eyes get their fill and fall back to my plate...while we
wait we might as well start up a conversation. Or maybe not.
With a poof our company is increased by two more individuals. To my chagrin I
must admit I’ve never met my cousin Desmond since I am who I am.
“At long last! I was beginning to think the dementors had found you both,” says Draco
with a queer smile.
“Well we had them on our tail for a bit but
then we got lucky and found a fireplace and some floo powder,” is this guy
Desmond? I ask myself as I take in the boy standing in front of me. He’s taller
than me alright, he’s got long dark hair tied in a low pony tail, his hazel
eyes check me out and his lips give birth to a smile, ”and who’s this pretty
lady?” he then asks...what a sweet-talker.
“This, my dear friends, is Narcissa’s
daughter...” begins Draco but I cut him off, after all, if this is my only
chance at a new life I figure I might as well give it a sparkling start.
“My name is Hermione Akasha Teletha Malfoy and I believe to be related to one
of you,” I’m so proud of myself!
“Even though It’s not me I’d like to
introduce myself all the same, I’m Blaise Zabini,” he says before catching my
unaware hand and kissing it with his humid lips, “pleasure to meet you,” as much as etiquette emphasizes on the
kissing hand thing I don’t think the kiss includes all that saliva...that’s
d-i-s-g-u-s-t-i-n-g!
“If you’re done you sorry excuse of a
playboy I’d like to introduce myself to my cousin,” finally as the other boy
speaks Blaise leaves my bloody hand alone, I wonder how many viruses I got from
that bit of saliva, I better wash my hands as soon as I can, “my name is
Desmond Lestrange, my mother’s your aunt Bellatrix,” he explains...don’t ask
how or why but I think I like my cousin and I know I’m not the only one
thinking along those lines because he’s staring at me too.
“I’m starving, lets eat!” leave it to Draco
to ruin this special moment of cousin bonding. As soon as we sit, Draco rings
the bell and a dozen of house elves appear, ready to serve with plate in hand.
They’re given the nod as starting signal and soon before me lays
an elaborate dish.
“So the old man did not only propose but he
also already married the bitch,” starts Draco after some silence, my eyes run
to his stare at his face, ‘hey! I resent that...she’s the only mother I’ve got
even though I do agree, she is a major bitch. I must say, I’ve seen her change
men more often than she changes hats and that’s saying a lot for I believe she
has an entire wing of the Black country
manor piled up with the fancy things.’
“Draco, it’s not very nice to make such
comments in front of Hermione,” intervenes my already beloved cousin to my defense.
Draco just flips him off. Did I mention I hate the bastard?
“It’s fine Desmond, really, I don’t care
what my stepbrother has to say about my mother,” I try to pacify them, there’s no need of blood. I grin at that thought thou.
“Well?” asks Blaise.
“Well what?!” barks back my favorite
sibling.
“Where are the love birds?” Draco fidgets
and for the first time today I know what he’s thinking, however Blaise’s
persistence soon wares off his nerves making me explode instead.
“They left for their bloody honeymoon!
Bloody hell, are you that thick? We don’t want to talk about our parents!” was
that me? Did I just say that out loud? That’s it, I’m peeved and embarrassed.
So what do I do? I stand up abruptly making my handkerchief fly to the floor,
then without another moment’s thought I run for it, out of the room away from
this stupid thing that happened to me. Suddenly it all appeared to me for what
it was, a ridiculous gathering of people who are so
material that they can’t even understand themselves. I’m so tired of all this
shallowness that I want to scream. It’s like I’m suffocating and I just don’t
know where to turn to breath. I want some freedom but then again I guess that’s
too much to expect from life, specially from mine. My
tears start streaming faster down my cheeks as Blaise’s last words echo in my
head.
“I think I’m in love...”
I mean, what the
fuck? The boy’s got serious brain dysfunctions and at the moment he’s the person
I hate the most. Stupid and childish you say? As stereotyped as I may sound I’m
willing to risk my reputation for this: If you were me you would understand
that I have every right to be spoiled. As I run into my room the only thing
that penetrates my mind during this fit of rage is a mantra I made up when I
was five, it went like this, ‘if I stay here and keep very silent everything
will be alright,’ and I must admit that with my mother it always worked.
She eventually gave up on me and left me to my misery until I sorted myself out
of it. However this doesn’t seem the case. My mother isn’t here to make me feel
even more miserable and the bloody vermin isn’t here either, Maylee isn’t here
to sing for me. Some say that the only use of house elves is their handwork, I however know one of their secrets. They sing
very nicely, I don’t know how but they pass on to each generation ancient
songs, tunes that they use for infants, usually they sing only for toddlers to
keep them serene. In my case my elf sings for me every night before I go to
sleep and since my mother’s never home Maylee sings for me even during day.
There’s this melody that she sings for me whenever I’m cross, whenever my
mother makes me cry. As I sit on a couch at the feet of my bed I try to reproduce
the same tune but all I obtain is a weep of some sort.
Suddenly I hear a sound, it’s the door
opening and I swiftly turn around. To my surprise it’s Desmond.
“Hey there, I’m really sorry for what
happened back there,”
“You don’t have to apologize for him, if
he’s man enough he should know it’s his job to do it himself,”
“I’m not apologizing for him, actually, God
forbid the day I do anything for Blaise. No Hermione, I apologize for my
silence. I should have shut him.” I can’t help it any longer and so a sincere
gratitude smile graces my lips. It’s the second time today that I give one.
“So, how come you and Blaise are here?”
“Well Hermione…can I call you Akasha? It’s
very nice, shorter and easier to pronounce than Hermione and it’s also so dark,”
he’s picking on my name!
“Of course it is, I’m a Black through and
through,” he looks at me surprised and then his facial features soften to
reveal a smile. He’s cute, very cute…that, I must admit, “what’s
yours?”
“Na-a, that one you have to figure out for
yourself,” a challenge!
“Is that a challenge?” cause
I really like them.
“As you like it,” so it’s a deal.
“ok, you get to
use my second name only if I find out yours,” I clarify rule number one of the
challenge. He smiles at me and nods, then he walks
towards a table and fumbles a bit with something that I can’t see because his
back’s turned to me. When he turns around he heads towards me holding a black
wooden box.
“What’s that?” I wonder…I’ve always wanted
to learn wizard chess.
“This,” he says as he extracts a huge old
book from it’s container, “is one of the first editions of Shakespeare’s As you like it, however along with it
come his sonnets, including my favorite…sonnet 66…” who’s he talking about?
“Who’s Shakespeare?” he gives me a look of
understanding and then he smiles. I swear, he’s one of
the most complicated characters I’ve ever met.
“William Shakespeare, my dear Hermione, is
one of the pillars of English literature. Of course I didn’t expect you to know
him being he a muggle. However I hope your artistic soul will see beyond blood
purity and you’ll share my passion for his sonnets,” so he likes associating
with muggle writings…how rebellious.
“Thou art convince me no further dear
cousin, I would love to hear this sonnet you speak so highly of,” I say with a
smirk and Desmond nods, he lifts the tome from it’s place and searches for the
right page, when he finds it the coughs a couple of times to clear his throat
and then begins.
“Tir’d
with all these, for restful death I cry:
As,
to behold desert a beggar born,
And
needy nothing trimm’d in jollity,
And
purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And
gilded honour shamefully misplac’d,
And
maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And
right perfection wrongfully disgrac’d,
And
strength by limping sway disabled,
And
art made tongue-tied by authority,
And
folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,
And
simple truth miscall’d simplicity,
And
captive good attending captain ill,”
“I didn’t know a muggle could possess the
heart and soul to write such words,” I whisper, “much less feel such things,” I
say as I begin to relate my life to this sonnet. He nods smiling at my
realization and continues.
“Tir’d
with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save
that, to die, I leave my love alone.”
As soon as he finishes reading the
grandfather clock chimes midnight and I know I must be off to bed, “that I
believe is my queue to retire for the night,” I say as I stand up, “I hope I
see you again and maybe you can even tell me why Blaise and yourself were here
tonight…good night,” I say as I walk out of the room.
“Good night…” I hear his reply.
* * *
* * * * * *
* * *
Fine Capitolo Due
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo