The Prime Princess

A lone castle crowned a sharp knoll top, looking over the 50 000 acres of land. Vervain was also known as The Claw of Dragon. In the dark the castle really looked like a gigantic paw reaching out from the abyss. Menacing towers littered with gargoyles scared most of the sheepherders who trekked around up there.

No one went up there. It was cursed place said people from the village below.

Three figures draped in heavy coats climbed up the narrow road to the hill. A drunken villager ogled them and burst into loud cackle.

“Are we there yet?” asked Hermione who clung to Harry.

“No,” said Draco through gritted teeth when cold wind raved at him.

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“Are we there yet?”

“No!”

“Are we there yet?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“No! How many times do I have to tell you? We are not there yet!” yelled Draco and fumed when Hermione only giggled and exchanged some Knuts with Harry.

“What was the bet?” he asked finally and walked backwards to glare at two griffindors with his full abhorrence.

“To see if I can turn your hair pink!”

“What?!” shrieked Draco and started to fumbled with his outgrown hair to check their color. His hair weren’t exactly pink. More like peach. Draco stared the ends of his hair and then raised his glare at Hermione.

“You… you…” he stuttered and pointed his finger at Hermione. It would have looked more threatening if he hadn’t worn mittens.

“How dare you?!”

“It was just a joke,” said Harry carefully but Draco ignored him completely like he had done all the way from Salem.

“A practical one,” added Hermione with a grin and yelped when a snowball hit her. The drunken villager hooted to them and disappeared into the woods but his laughter still echoed in the wind.

A sharp howl ended the snow fight. Draco brushed snow off of his coat and looked around them to find a black wolf waiting on the road. Two golden eyes watched them intently.

“Is that…” started Harry getting his glasses upon his nose.

“No, just a big bad wolf. My Masters messenger,” said Draco who himself had often suspected the wolf to be actually a werewolf or perhaps an Animagus.

“Okay, lets move!” shouted Draco and started to stomp towards the wolf that turned around and sauntered into the darkness. Harry helped Hermione to her feet and followed Draco through the windy night. Wand in his hand showing some light was shaking as the cold crept closer through the warming spell that surrounded them.

From the dark Vervain soon loomed over them. The outline of the castle was ominous enough to say Evil lived there. Hermione looked up and stared at the towers growing out of the castle like long spikes.

“Are we there yet?” she tried just for fun but knew the answer already. Draco stayed silent as they walked up the wide stairs to the grand doorway.

The wolf had disappeared when an old house-elf opened the door and looked at their feet. Draco wanted to push past the elf but that creature raised a finger in warning.

“Master is expecting you, Mister Malfoy,” said the house-elf and opened the door a bit wider, “And welcomes your guests.”

Draco finally had the right to stomp into the great Entrance Hall and whine over the blasted weather. When he ended cursing the winter, he suddenly realized the hall was also cold.

“Why haven’t you heated the castle, Sashu?” he asked.

“Master is loving cold,” said the house-elf and guided the guests to a smaller room with a fireplace that burst into flames as the elf snapped his fingers.

“Is guests wanting something to eat?” asked the house-elf when Harry and Hermione sat into the armchairs in front of the warming fire.

“No, thank you, Sashu,” said Hermione and then looked pointedly at Harry who was thinking about something. Perhaps making a list of something he wanted from the kitchen but Hermione’s gaze made him shook his head for ‘No’.

“Alright. Master is waiting for you, Mister Malfoy,” he said and vanished into thin air. Draco looked at the griffindors and then turned around.

“It will take a moment. Don’t go wondering around. This place can kill you,” he warned them and walked off.

Harry turned to look at Hermione who was warming her frozen fingers by the fire.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s the only way for me; to get back is to change the history of Aristons. In real life in no parallel reality Aristons got back their lost daughter. So far the process has always been meddled by people like Saga to get the heir of Aristons back on the pages of history,” said Hermione and looked at the healing cut inside her palm.

“Why? Why are you doing this? Aristons are horrible,” hissed Harry and looked around to see if someone might have heard him.

“They are all I got. And besides, this would get the attention of Saga,” answered Hermione honestly.
***
Draco stepped into a Ball Room where a dozen of violins and some cellos were playing a beautiful piece that sounded yearning and sad but full of hope. One wall of the room was littered with windows covered with heavy curtains. But one was pushed open and the cold winter wind blew snowflakes into the Ball Room.

“Master?” muttered Draco and stepped closer but stopped few feet from the dark figure looking out into the night.

“You brought another one?” asked the Master in a low voice. Draco nodded and stared his Master’s reflection on the glass panel.

The music changed. Cellos came forth amongst the violins and the menacing purr in their strings drove all the hair in the back of Draco’s head to stand up.

“For seventeen years I have looked for that baby but all I have seen are thieves looking for easy money,” growled the elder wizard and the music turned darker in the room.

“As I said before – the last girl was the last and so it stays. No more. I will not see her,” he said and turned to look at his servant. “Let them stay for the night. In the morning they will leave. You’ll Obliviate them. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my Master,” said Draco and left.
***
Sashu appeared from the thin air and approached two griffindors having a hushed argument.

“Master wishes you to stay for the night. Please follow me,” said the house-elf and led them to the quest house that was just on the other side of the courtyard. It was a small mansion for the Master’s quests but visitors were a rare thing in Vervain, so the little house had stayed empty for a long time and started to come apart.

The house-elf showed them around in the mansion and few cleaning spells tidied it up nicely but the air was still clammy and dusty.

Finally on the third floor Sashu showed them two bedrooms that had not been used for decades. There was also a third one on that floor. The door of that room was a dark green with a silver knob.

“That’s Mister Malfoy’s,” said the house-elf before he ushered Harry and Hermione into their rooms.

When the house-elf left, Harry slipped into Hermione’s room and found her already getting ready for the bed. She was fluffing the pillows and dusting the feather blanket.

“Malfoy is staying right next to us,” hissed Harry, “I don’t like it.”

“What? You think he could do something?” asked Hermione.

“You never know. He is a Malfoy after all,” said Harry.

“Right.”