Bound

Chapter Twelve ~ The Lady Prince

A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry this one took so long! I REALLY struggled with how to deal with the issues (not huge, I think...) within this chapter. Anyway, as per my post earlier today, the chapter is up today! (Technically... we've scraped in by about half an hour.) Thanks to all you who crossed your fingers and, as always, my wonderful beta, editor, idea-bouncer and somewhat Brit-picker, who knows who he is! I'd also like to thank everyone who has read this story so far and especially the ones who come back despite the long wait. We're over 4.5k for reads, so how about we crack 5000 before I post chapter 13? Speaking of chapter 13, it should come a lot quicker because the subject matter is a lot simpler for me than that of this chapter!
Anyway, enough of my waffling! Read, vote, comment, but most of all, enjoy!!

"My, my, do my eyes deceive me? Is that a young lady? Why, I do believe it is! Well, I'll be! I've not seen a woman down her since- well, since 'Cissa collected Severus for young Draco's eleventh birthday!"

'I'm hearing voices now! What on earth is wrong with me?' Hermione asked herself as she shook her head, before an unfamiliar voice, high-pitched and proper, jolted her from her reverie.

"My dear young lady, what could possibly have brought you to such a pensive state?"

Hermione stiffened, eyes flickering towards the back wall of the room. Nothing. She emptied her hands and reached subtly for her wand. Her fingers tingled as they brushed over the handle. Almost immediately, a wave of serenity settled over her like a calming blanket. She felt ready for anything – or anyone.

Hopping down from the stool, Hermione turned to examine the room thoroughly. Nothing had changed; the cupboards and drawers were all closed, neither the posters, nor the pins holding them had moved, the woman in the portrait was still there – 'Wait a moment, I could have sworn that frame was empty when I arrived.'

"Young lady, it is terribly rude to stare," said the sallow-faced woman in the portrait, reflexively smoothing her bony hands down the front of her high-collared lilac dress, pressing layer upon layer of white lace ruffles into place.

Hermione jumped, eyes widening. 'That voice!' it was the portrait who had spoken!

Gathering her courage around her like a protective cloak, Hermione sheathed her wand and drew closer to the portrait. "Who are you?" she demanded, though her voice was weak, even to her own ears.

The sallow woman raised her chin, glittering black eyes glaring down a long, pointed nose. "I might ask the same of you. What right have you to skulk about these dungeons?"

"Professor Snape sent me," she snapped, glaring back at the sharp-featured portrait.

The woman's eyes softened and her face tilted down, losing some of its severity. "Why would Severus send a student to his laboratory?" she asked suspiciously, casting her eyes over the room. "What is your name?"

Hermione relaxed as the portrait's hostility dissipated slightly, her voice becoming softer and less biting. Still, she hesitated in her answer, "I-I'm Hermione Granger."

"Hermione Granger?" The portrait looked amused. "Severus calls you the 'Insufferable Know-It-All.' I don't know why; your essays are always his favourite.

Hermione turned red to the tips of her ears. "Really? He always makes out like he hates them."

The portrait waved her off, saying, "Oh, that's probably because he usually finds your work in triplicate. Besides, he's always been a bit of a drama queen – ever since he could talk."

"You've known him that long?!" Hermione squeaked with surprise, eyes wide.

"Well, of course I have! He is my grandson, after all!" the portrait replied archly, "And believe you me, he is as dramatic as his grandfather – ridiculous, the pair of them!"