“Talking”
‘Thinking’
Hermione Granger sat atop a sturdy tree branch, book in hand staring out into the void of open air before her. She was frowning. She tipped her head backwards and sighed at her predicament. Her very sister was engaged to the king of the magic realm himself. It was not just a king, it was the King. How had her sister managed it?
It did not matter, however, because she was quite looking forward to the trip. She had never gone to court, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so. The actual wedding wasn’t to be held until late October. It was merely the beginning of Spring! Still, Hermione was eager to see the court and attend those balls where maidens wore the eloquent gowns. How she yearned to go right away, although she wasn’t quite as eager to see her sister again. Her sister had been away at court for four years, and she never came home to visit. A letter arrived only once a month and even that only gave a vague notion of her sister’s life.
“She must have been too busy enchanting his royal Highness.” Hermione murmured lightly to herself. “When had mother said we would go? Oh, a few weeks, a fortnight at most. Yet I still I cannot wait. I do wish we get to the palace by April. It is my favorite month. It would be a delight if I should be introduced to the court by then; there would be wonderful memories.”
Although Hermione yearned to go to court, there were such things that she did not find as fair. For instance, bowing. She did not wish to bow to any such person that she had just met. After all, weren’t all men (women) equal. Why must she bow to people who may be her superiors? Why should the servants bow before her? Why did the King not bow to anyone?
Another thing she had always scorned was the women in court. She had heard tales of woman who would wear rings on every finger, bracelets almost covering half of their lower arm, and necklaces weighed with heavy jewels and made of the finest gold money could possibly buy. Wearing these, the women would flaunt their riches and prove to society their rank. Their gowns, no matter how beautiful, was always made in rich fabric such as velvet or silk, and their hair was always worn up so various clips could be adorned in their tresses. Not to mention their gowns were always made so their cleavage would show.
The brunette wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘Perhaps I am just envious. Am I jealous that these women have the figure and beauty to do such things and I do not?’
She could not answer the question. Being raised as the second child in her family, she had almost always been second best at everything. In beauty, strength, courage, agility, wit, knowledge, and a million other things that she could not even count! It was difficult always being compared to Edlyn…because she could not compare.
It was true that Hermione was smarter than any of the young adults in her surrounding neighborhood. She understood things faster. She remembered things more easily. But still…while Edlyn had lived in the house, she had been the best at everything. And she was not afraid of anything.
Hermione had looked up to her. And then, during her time at court, something had changed between her sister and her. Hermione could not figure what it was that went wrong. Before her sister had left, they had been best friends, and although it was hard seeing Edlyn be the center of so much praise, they spent every waking moment with each other. For all those years, Hermione had always lived in her sister’s shadow. Up until the day she left, but even now, it felt as if they were constantly being compared.
She wished with all her heart that it would not be that way when she got to the palace.
The two weeks had passed in a blur. Soon, Hermione and her mother had stepped into the carriage awaiting them.
Even the carriage was beautiful. All the seats had the softest cushions. The outside was frames with gold and silver. What looked like a golden scar was the handle bar of the door. There were even curtains within the carriage. They were pulled to the sides of the windows so the passenger could gaze at the view outside. They were made of fine crimson velvet. The windows’ glass shined as if it had been polished over a hundred times! The horses pulling the contraption were the finest thorough-bred horses Hermione had ever seen. Their silky silver mane rested at the side of their heads, neatly braided so the wind would not blow them. Their silver coats were brushed and glossy, and felt so soft to the touch of the hand.
Hermione and her mother climbed into the carriage, as a short little dwarf helped take their luggage.
The ride to the castle was short. It was already late afternoon. They would not make it to tonight’s dinner. The carriage arrived at a forest and the horses wandered a bit, as if not knowing where to go. But soon, it seemed, they found what they were looking for because they trotted forward at an easy pace. The carriage passed through some sort of vortex; the space’s dimensions shifted and swirled in an outlandish fashion before stopping and allowing them entrance.
Hermione gasped at the site. The castle was magnificent. She had only heard stories of what Hogwarts looked like. And now she knew. The castle had drum towers on every side, beautiful lights floated in the median of the sky and the ground, and the whole castle was just magical. Water flowed on all sides and the carriage carried them across a draw bridge.
As soon as they were inside the castle, Hermione could see people all around her. They all looked so…fantastic.
When she stepped out of the castle, she smelled the scents of the court, of everything.
“Excuse me, Miss Granger, would you like me to show you to your room?” a young girl with bright red-orange hair asked while curtsying.
“Oh, um, I suppose…”
The girl led her through a maze of corridors before stopping before one, “This will be your room during your stay here before the wedding…afterwards, we will move you into a room on a higher floor.”
Hermione smiled and then sighed, “How will I find my room. This whole castle is a labyrinth!”
The girl smiled in return, “It may be hard at first Miss Grang-”
“Just call me Hermione. I do dislike such formalities…”
“Hermione, then,” the girl corrected, “it is hard to find your way with the moving stairs and such, but, you will get used to it.”
“Moving stairs?”
The girl smiled at her curiosity, “Yes, moving stairs, imagine that.”
“I must go look for myself sometime! Thank you…?”
“Ginny.”
“Ginny. Perhaps I shall see you around again?”
“Oh, yes, of course, I was appointed to be your personal guide during your first few days here. If you see me in the halls, do not hesitate to call for me, all right?”
“Of course not. But, could you tell me how I could get outside for some fresh air? After this dizzying maze, I would rather like to have a bit of fresh air.”
“Of course, his Highness has one of the most impressive flower gardens. It is incredibly beautiful, and the air is filled with aroma from the roses.”
Ginny led her down stairs and corridors until reaching a set of stone double doors. “The rose gardens are just outside.”
“How will I get in? I doubt I could manage to push those doors open myself.”
“Oh, do not worry, they are a lot lighter than they seem because magic has been placed on them to open when you walk near them.”
“How convenient,” Hermione chuckled to herself. She felt a little embarrassed for not remembering. Back home, they did not use magic for anything.
She wondered outside, and all the aromas hit her at once. It smelled delicious, especially during sunset. There was just something more special about them at that moment. She bent forward to pick a pink rose, tugging gently at the bottom of stem, being careful not to prick herself with the thorns. But after picking the blossom out, she noticed no thorns on the stems, yet, the stalk had no marks of cutting.
“It’s magic, you know?” A masculine voice came from behind her.
“Yes, of course, I should have assumed…” she said slowly, sticking her nose into the petals and turning around to face the stranger.
It was a boy or…man, whichever you would like to call it, with dark black hair, bangs lightly covered his forehead, and glasses perched on his nose as he stared at her.
“The gardens are beautiful, are they not?” He asked.
“Yes, indeed. Are there spells that keep them so fresh? That is to say…there are so many rose bushes, and flowers and such, there could not be a gardener who tends them all…?”
“It is the job of a gardener to do such things…water plants, trees, flowers…”
“Yes, but, even one man could not…?”
“The gardens are tended by people. There is no enchantment in them except for in the thorns. Even weeds are pulled out by hand.”
“But, why? Would it not be much more convenient to cast a spell, that is, I am no expert at magic, but-”
“It would be easier. But there is a human quality to this garden. With a court surrounded on the basic of magic, it is best if there is at least something not done in the supernatural sense.”
“I do not believe I understand, but if that is the way the King wishes it, then I suppose it is to not ask too many questions. Besides, I am merely an ignorant eighteen year old foreign to the ways of the court and to the supernatural.”
The boy smiled and chuckled a bit before the deep base tone of bells ringing. “Oh, look at the time, I must be going.” And he left.
‘I wonder…who that was…’