One Bite ✔️ (#Wattys2017)

Chapter 1 | Part One

Hermione breathed in the fresh air of the afternoon sun. She smiled as she exhaled. The sky opened up above her and the rolling land was soothing to her mind. Spring hung in the air heavily and she basked in its glow. Hermione made her way to a secluded spot along the grassy beach near the pond and sat down in the grass, picking at the red poppies there as her mind drifted. Her mind always drifted to far off places that she had never been too. For example, the far shores of Troy on the Aegean Sea, or the cliffs where strong and just Hercules completed his tenth task, always fascinated her.

Her mother thought she was crazy not to be interested in the topics other goddesses her age adored. Hermione made a face at the long list her mother had read off on her: weaving, looms, needles, gossip, competitions of the arts, make up, more gossip, and, worst of all, gods. No, she rather read books; studying the world and the inventions her best friend, Ron (Hephaestus), created.

Hermione was a rare specimen, a beautiful creature, but the males amongst her kind thought nothing of her due to her philosophy based needs. She did not care though. She was fine with staying the way she was, like Pansy (Hestia) and her best girl friend, Astoria (Artemis).

There was a high pitched giggle that broke her thoughts and she snapped her head to look behind her. Her brown eyes narrowed as she glared at the five girls that were her companions, her mother's doing. There were about five of them, nymphs with a variety of hair colors. They were packed together, picking flowers to bring to her mother, or some helpless mortal who happened upon them. Hermione rolled her eyes at them. Like any mortal would want a flower from them.

Suddenly, she heard a voice.

"Hermione," she heard a soft voice call for her. Her gaze looked out at the pond before. It was eerily still, "Hermione," the voice called to her again, urgency laced within it.

She stood up, her poppy crown falling to the grass, "Hello!" she called out, her eyes continuing to search for the source of the voice.

"Hermione."

She stepped toward the pond, hoping the new angle would reveal the stranger. Looking behind her, she noticed that her companions had their backs turned to her and were not paying attention to her as her mother had instructed them to do so. She gave a grateful sigh; they were annoying more than anything.

Hermione looked back at the water. This time the liquid rippled and bubbles floated to the top of the once mirror like pond. She had only ever seen a cooking pot full of stew act like this before, but she was not startled. Instead, curiosity filled her mind at the possibilities this new information would give to the intellectual world. Lily (Athena), the goddess of wisdom, would be so proud of her, she thought.

The ground, suddenly, began to shake. She stayed standing, though, due to all the years of training with Astoria she had partaken in. Hermione glanced behind her once again, but her companions still seemed to have not noticed her.

Her ears, abruptly, heard the sound of something breaking the water and she turned to look back at the bubbling pond. From the sky blue liquid, two, large, black heads with glowing red eyes appeared. With those heads came two identical horse bodies, their short fur was black like midnight. From their noses, smoke snorted and water sizzled as if they were the sun. With their bodies, a chariot appeared from the boiling water. Hermione could make out the sides of the vehicle. Skulls and bones were carved in rich gold, like liquor from the gods. The faces, the skulls held, were horrific with wide, gaping black holes for mouths like they died mid scream. Hermione's wide, brown eyes traced the chariot up to the body that occupied the driver's seat.

Water dripped down onto to the grass as the chariot rolled onto the beach before her. And everything seemed to slow down.

Hermione peered at the chariot's occupant. There a young man stood. She noticed he had striking, white hair that was, in fact, blonde. He was pale like freshly decaying bones and lanky from head and toe, but he had muscles which were much more prominent with the indents on his silver armor. His chest plate, Hermione noted, was inlaid with gold and around his neck was a black ripped cloak which dangled around him like some doll. On his blonde hair was a crown made of the darkest metal Hermione had ever seen on both the Heavens and the Earth. Its design was strikingly powerful for the metal tips stuck out every which way. Her brown eyes connected with his, a grey like storm clouds. But these eyes, unlike the clouds that King Harry (Zeus) created when he was angered, had a softness to them. One that she was sure very little people saw. She recognized this man immediately as the brother that Harry (Zeus) and Neville (Poseidon) rarely spoke of. A god that was left in exile and a king lost in the shadows. It was, Draco (Hades), King of the Underworld.

"Hermione," it was his voice that had called out to her.

Speedily, Draco (Hades), slapped the reins against the rear ends of the horses and the horses reared up on their back legs, before charging toward her. Her heartbeat raced in her chest as she backed away from the wild horses. She screamed for her companions, turning to run toward them, but they failed to notice the commotion going on a couple feet from them. If she made it out of this situation without any scrapes and bruises, she promised to personally send those five nymphs to Tartarus.

Around her waist, all of a sudden, she felt a strong arm wrap around her and she was lifted off the ground. She screamed, again, for her companion's. Her legs flared around her chlamys as she kicked at the God of the Dead. She hit her mark several times, but Draco (Hades) did not seem to be effected.

"Stop!" Draco yelled out, his voice sharp and piercing.

"Let me go!" she screamed, continuing to kick at the older god.

Draco, in response, wrapped his arm tighter around her, bringing their bodies closer together. With his free hand, he pulled the reins to the left turning the chariot around in one fluid motion. The horses raced toward the pond and Hermione screamed more, "Let me go, you MONSTER!"

She had hit a nerve because Draco's eyes flashed with fire, literally, as he looked down at her. She gulped and felt like apologizing and then realized what he was doing and she glared at him, hard and cold. The cool water of the pond washed over them and soon they were engulfed and darkness overcame her.