Worth Loving

Chapter 9: Tell Me A Story

Hermione did not eat at all that night.

She always thought that her father had killed Paris. That was what was expected for honour purposes, but not Agamemnon. Sure, her uncle was not a man with noble intentions, but she never thought, when nothing of her uncle's was really at stake, why would he do it? If Menelaus respected Paris, why did Agamemnon meddle in?

However, while her mind debated this, it went back to Oliver's earlier remark:

"Your father does not have the nerve to do anything himself."

Suddenly, Hermione's thoughts drifted apart at the sound of her sister's laughter. She glanced at her to see that she was looking at Oliver through a fit of giggles, and even reached out to caress his hand, which Oliver tensed, but did not remove.

She normally would have been angry with this, for she never approved of her sister's careless flirting, but she could not dismiss the previous thoughts from her mind. She had to know more.

Automatically, her chestnut eyes shifted to look at Harry's emerald green ones, to find out that his eyes were already locked on her gaze.

She had excused herself from his room this afternoon the minute he said that Menelaus had won her mother over a ring flip, and while she told him that her leave was nothing to be concerned about, her nervous and angry tone of voice had given her away. He had let her leave, but not without a concerned look on his face. The same one he had displayed on his face at this precise moment.

Without really thinking, she smiled at him. It was not a thin smile, but a broad one.

Her smile turned Harry's stomach upside down.

"God, you are beautiful," he thought, but hit himself mentally the second that thought made its way through his mind. Nevertheless, the gesture was returned, along with a question by the side before he could stop his mouth.

"Are you all right?"

"I am fine," Hermione replied calmly, unsurprised by his question, to Harry's astonishment.

He wondered if she did not think the fact that a Trojan worried about her slightly weird.

"I apologize for my outburst this afternoon."

"Understandable." The grim, unfeeling tone was back on his voice.

"No, you warned me. Anyway, I was kind of hoping we could reschedule tonight." Her eyes displayed a pleading look

"Hermione-"

Harry immediately closed his mouth, realising that he had called her by her name in front of his aunt. Luckily, the queen did not seem to notice. She was engaged on a lengthy conversation with her royal advisor.

Harry immediately motioned Hermione to go with him.

They got out of the table as politely and quietly as they could and settled on a quiet corner by the side of the stairs.

"I do not think you should keep doing this to yourself. I had not said two sentences before you became upset out this afternoon. Yes, I know you did, your face gave you away. I have not even started. It is past Hermione, maybe you should just leave it there. You did not want to come here in the first place right? Do not complicate things for yourself. Troy was just a memory for your mother; keep it like that on your mind," Harry advised.

"No. I can't. I want to resolve the puzzle in my mind. I am here now. I am going to have to face it sooner or later. My mother once told me there are things worth dying for. I want to know if love was that thing for her. I will be quiet, will not complain, and I will let you do the talking I promise. I will not disturb, but please..."

Her chestnut eyes displayed that pleading look again and Harry knew he could not refuse.

"All right. Meet me in my room, fifteen minutes."

Harry got back to the table, but Hermione headed directly to the stairs. She was not hungry anyway and she was certainly not in the mood to put on with the Trojan queen.

****

"Where were you Harry, dear?" Alexandria asked him.

"What?" Harry practically jumped.

"You left the table so suddenly."

"I had a matter to attend to," he stated simply.

"Everything all right?"

"Fine." He looked at his aunt, who obviously did not believe him.

Fortunately for him, Oliver interrupted.

"Well, I am off. Big day today, exhausted. Good night Harry, Alexandria, Fleur."

"Oh, I'll go with you!" Fleur said. "I mean, my room is right next to yours, and my

sleeping hour is drawing close."

"Okay, night then." He smiled at Alexandria and Harry, before strolling out.

Alexandria glanced at them, before glancing back to Harry.

"Has Herminia chosen her throne successor yet?"

"Hermione."

"What?"

"Her name is Hermione," Harry spat.

"Answer the question Harry," Alexandra ordered him, coldness in her voice as Harry's stomach gave a bolt of uneasiness.

"How should I know?"

"I have seen you with her lately, thought you ought to know."

"Well I don't." Harry stood up, but his aunt stopped him before he could leave.

"Be mindful of your feelings. They are not worth Troy...your father's death."

Harry sighed and headed to his bed chamber. If he did not know any better, he would say that his aunt knew.

But knew what? Nothing was going on, nor it would.

****

He bathed himself and put on his night pants and his robe. He proceeded to comb his untidy hair. This action was interrupted however, as he heard a soft door knock.

"Good evening," came Hermione's voice as he opened. She had not changed, he noticed, and was still wearing her red gown, only without the mantle.

Harry stepped aside, allowing her entrance to his bedroom. He sighed, as another of talk about Paris lay ahead.

****

"God night Fleur." Oliver smiled as they approached the Spartan princess' room.

"I really enjoyed riding today," she said.

"Well, you are a good rider; don't know what you complain about."

"It must be that I never cease to want you by my side." She drew closure to him.

Oliver laughed nervously at her statement. For whatever reason, his nerves seemed to get worked up whenever her presence was near and he found himself focusing on her pink, moist lips, so he chose to continue the dialogue rather than keep staring at her.

"Oh come on Fleur. I am sure Hermione can teach you how to ride too."

"But you taught me first."

"Yes I did, but-"

"Do I get to say thank you?" She whispered seductively. He in turn, patted her shoulder.

"Well, you are very welcome."

"No, I mean, a proper thank you." Fleur put her arms around his neck. Her lips brushed his gently in a sweet, but arousing kiss.

She felt Oliver's arms clasp around her waist as his mouth opened hesitantly over hers, his body finally relaxing.

However, as soon as it started, it was over. Oliver tore his mouth away, unable to catch his breath. He met Fleur's sapphire eyes, her body still toppled against his. But when her eyes started closing again, he distanced from her.

"Good night," he said and got into his bed chamber.

Fleur sighed, leaning against her door while a smile formed on her lips. At least that kiss would have him thinking about her most of the night. She wanted him, and she would have him, the following night being a safe bet.

****

"Paris was abandoned on a mountain because Alexandria predicted he would bring ruination to the kingdom. He was rescued by a peasant and reencountered his family while fighting for his adoptive father's bull. He even defeated Hector, father. After that, Alexandria recognised him, told her brother to kill him, but he refused and his parents welcomed him back with open arms. He was arrogant, but had a good heart, at least that's what my father always said. He first went to Sparta because the Spartans wanted to begin a war to get a safe passage to import grain. That is where he met your mother, who was married to Menelaus at that time. In fact, he was inside the throne room when your

mother posed naked. He said they had met before, rubbish if you ask me. They first kissed that night and your mother would pass all her free time with him while Menelaus was absent dealing with diplomatic affairs with Agamemnon. Agamemnon wanted to kill him and his companions because he thought them conspiring against Sparta. Helen became aware of this and got Paris out of the castle to his ship. She did not go with him at first, but then threw herself in the water and Paris pulled her inside as the ship sailed away. That is how she came to Troy. The next morning I assume your father noticed her absence and began plotting the war. She spent several months in Troy before the Spartan ships came. She wanted to go back to Menelaus to save Paris' life, but he would not have it. My father used to say that Paris loved her truly, that is why she was kept in Troy. That is why my father lost his life."

Harry sighed and looked at Hermione as he prepared to continue the story.

However, she was fast asleep on the chair.

He stared at the window. It was pretty late, he could tell, for the stars were fading, giving room to a dark twilight. He took her in his arms, careful not to wake her up and put her on his bed, getting the sheets on top of her immobile body.

Hermione moaned sleepily as he shifted her soft curls away from her face. He sighed and closed the door silently behind him, wondering where that sudden gesture had come from.

****

Hermione woke up peacefully, yawning pleasantly. She could not remember when was the last time she had slept so well.

She shifted in her pillow, as the sheets gave away Harry's scent. Her eyes opened wide as she acknowledged where she was. The prince of Troy's chamber!

She sat up to discover her body was still clothed and she sighed, burying her face in her hands. What the hell was she doing there?

"Good morning."

Her eyes looked up to find an already dressed Harry staring at her.