Evermore

III.

Hermione woke up to a soft humming somewhere near her head.  She nearly jumped when two, large green eyes greeted her.  It was a house elf dressed in a pretty, pale blue frock.

"Mornin' miss.  Would you like some breakfast?" the elf asked.

"Uhm...I'm not sure...where am I?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.  She felt sore everywhere.  What happened to her anyway?

"You is in the most beautiful room in the East wing," the elf beamed.

That wasn't very helpful, but she didn't want to upset the poor girl so she just smiled back and glanced around, hoping to find clues regarding her whereabouts.

And indeed, the room was beautiful, stunning even.  The walls were covered in cream and gold wallpaper while the floor was done in subdued bronze carpeting.  It was so thick she knew her toes would get lost in it if she walked barefoot. The bed on which she now lay could easily accommodate five people. It had an ornate gold and bronze velvet canopy and intricately etched wooden posts.  The beddings were also done in cream and gold, with fragrant, flouncy pillows. Gold and crystal lamps stood proudly on top of the two matching side tables, while a couch and two armchairs were gathered around a glass-topped, bronze coffee table at the far corner near the door.

A room fit for a queen, she thought.  How on earth did she end up here? She remembered leaving the Ministry, being approached by a hooded, old man...and the rose!  He gave her a beautiful, pale pink rose...and then she was standing in front of a huge, black gate.  Is this the house beyond the gate? Who brought her here - to this room?

When she looked around the elf was putting a large tray laden with food on the coffee table.  She could hear the well-dressed elf humming as she carefully laid out teacups and small plates on the side.  A charming porcelain teapot followed to complete the set.

Well-dressed? Aren't house elves set free when presented with clothes? Why is she here, then? Is she getting paid to work for this family?

"Breakfast ready, Miss. Call Fifi when you is finished," she said, bowing low before disapparating with a loud pop.

"Wait, I want..." Hermione called after the elf, but it was too late.  She was already gone.

Sighing, Hermione tossed aside the warm comforter and slid out of bed.  It was only then that she realized that she was wearing an exquisite, emerald green nightgown.
What? Where are my clothes? And who changed me into this?

As if the room could read her thoughts, Fifi reappeared with another loud pop.

"Miss, Fifi forgot to tell you that you's clothes is in the dressing room," Fifi said, hopping with a big smile on her face to a door that Hermione hadn't noticed.  The elf turned the golden knob and pushed the door open.  Hermione gasped as she gaped at the biggest and most luxurious bathroom she had ever seen.  It looked like what one usually saw in those expensive Muggle Interior Design magazines that featured the homes of royalty and famous celebrities. A bronze bathtub sat flushed against one wall opposite a shower enclosed in frosted glass. The walls and floor were of a soft cream marble. A stand-alone porcelain basin stood under a stained-glass window. To the left was another door.  Fifi pushed it open to reveal a cozy, but well-appointed boudoir. And folded on a brocade-covered settee were her clothes, minus her wand and bag.

Hermione turned to question the elf about it, but she had already left. Again.
Why does she always do that?

Deciding that she would not get any answers from the elf, Hermione heaved the nightgown off, slipped into the stall and took a quick shower.  She had to admit that she had never felt as refreshed as she did right after that.  While dressing, she deliberated on her situation.  Where exactly was she and who were her solicitous hosts?  Clearly, this was a family homestead and not a bachelor pad, so there would probably be more than one occupant. She finished her toilette by taming her curls (or at least she tried to) with the bejeweled brush she found on the dainty Victorian table.