A/N: Yes, I'm still alive and very grateful for the support you're giving to our story. The last few months had been very draining and I couldn't cater enough time to the story. I cannot promise we'll be able to provide regular updates because real life is still pretty demanding, however, we will try our best to make the most of our free time. White Bishop and I appreciate the love you show to this attempt of ours and hope to entertain you with the next chapters. White Bishop was kind to offer a note of apology (check below), but the delay was mostly because of me. My personal life was going through a lot of ups and downs (still pretty much the same) but this story is a much-needed escape from reality, so it will be always special to me.
Editor's Note(White Bishop): I'd like to personally apologize for the lack of story updates this year. It's been a bad year both professionally and personally, my health mostly, but we're working towards more regular updates. I ask that you be patient with us and thank you for sticking with us and this story.
Tangled threads
Lucius Malfoy sighed as he stood in the Manor's garden enjoying the cold and gentle breeze. This cold was nothing compared to that of the North Sea and that dreadful place, but it was a clear reminder. A reminder of what he had lost, and how important securing Draco's future was to the survival of the Malfoy family. Silencing the thoughts that still objected to the future that awaited his son, the elder Malfoy turned to seek out the warmth of his ancestral home and his beloved.
Lucius' steps came to a halt as he approached his destination. He waited just outside the ornate French doors with his fingers tightly gripping the head of the empty cane that used to hold his wand. "Come in, my love." Narcissa's voice called out to him almost immediately and the doors opened in response to her magic. Stepping into the Lady of the manor's dressing room, he schooled his features trying hard to suppress the slightly bashful feeling that greeted him every time he stepped into the only room in the manor that was uniquely hers. His gaze wandered about the elegant room before moving to his wife, seated at her dressing table tying her hair into a beautiful chignon with an elegant wave of her wand.
"It does my vanity a great deal of good to know I can still leave you speechless after all these years, Lucius." she acknowledged smirking in his direction with a tiny chuckle.
As he approached, he noticed her jewelry box that lay open. His eyes fell upon a hairpin decorated with a pearl. Picking it up with his fingers, he placed it at the center of her bun, securing it in its place. "What use do I have for words when you know my heart?" he added, kissing her wrist before he took a step back. "Where will you be taking the Granger girl today? As I recall, Twilfitt and Tattings is no longer worthy of our patronage after your last visit."
Narcissa's attention turned to Lucius through the mirror and her eyes narrowed as she spoke with disdain. "That atrocious place has lost whatever meager standards they had. Given how they dealt with my last order, I've seen to it that anyone of true value knows not to step foot into that shop again. I'm quite confident providing dresses for Potters wedding will have been their last event; mark my words, they'll be out of business before the year is out," she finished with a sinister smirk.
Lucius regarded his wife with a quirked up an eyebrow. He truly adored his witch's ruthless cunning, and could only hope that the witch who would succeed her title could be just as swift and cruel in dealing with those who did not show proper respect to a Malfoy.
"I plan to take Ms. Granger to the only boutique fit to have dressed seven generations of Malfoys," Narcissa said with an air of superiority; remembering the shop Lucius' mother had taken her to as part of a family tradition so long ago. She had last frequented it just before Draco had left for his first year at Hogwarts. With her son away; it became more convenient to frequent local shops to find additions to her wardrobe, rather than to make a trip out to the exclusive boutique.
Lucius once again raised an eyebrow at her words. "And you're certain? Surely, there are other shops..."
Lady Malfoy gave her husband a wry smile as she looked at his reflection in the mirror. "No, if she's going to be a Malfoy, she should be taught how to command the attention of a room with her mere presence. A perfect dress is the best way to accomplish that. While she may have potential, she still lacks the poise needed to stand beside our son, and from what I've heard her sense of fashion is mediocre at best." Narcissa complained. "Surely, that's the fault of the Weasleys and her unfortunate heritage. Regardless, I refuse to allow her to sully the reputation our family has cultivated for centuries. We are the pride of the Sacred Twenty-Eight." Her face suddenly fell as she reached for the Malfoy signet ring that was laid on the dresser. "And yet, we're to sacrifice our purity and our son in the hope that 'she' can grant our family a better future."
"Is that despair in your voice, my dear," Lucius took a step back, allowing his wife to stand. Lucius knew his wife was just expressing her displeasure with the reality of accepting a woman of inferior blood into their family. She was born a Black and valued purity above all else. In truth, he shared her displeasure and wondered if perhaps his predecessors felt the same when they had, on rare occasion, been forced to taint the purity of the Malfoy bloodline to preserve their power. The Malfoy patriarch knew his wife had never doubted his actions before, but the hesitation hidden in her voice had no place in this conversation. "Or is it doubt?"
The two locked eyes, and for better or worse, Lucius Malfoy got his answer. Before any words could be spoken, she tugged his hand into hers and placed the signet ring into his palm. "Do you remember the day we first held Draco in our arms? I promised myself I would always give him the best in this world." Lucius' fingers started to move the ring around his palm as Narcissa's voice lowered a decibel. "We taught him that he deserves nothing but the best." Lucius gripped the ring and slid it onto his wife's delicate finger. The frustration in her eyes was clear to him. "And I'm going to make sure of it. I will keep the promise I made to my son."
"Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and the Pest Advisory Bureau, Level Four."
Narcissa's attention shifted from the wrought golden grilles to the light that flooded in from the bustling lobby; watching as the interdepartmental memos zoomed out of the lift as soon as the doors opened. She glanced over her shoulder with a look of derision as she stepped out of the almost empty lift. Such theatrics had long since become a bad habit to mask her fear of those seeking to do her harm. With her fingers wrapped tightly around her clutch, she swiftly walked towards her destination on the other side of the open space. Murmurs fluttered behind her with every click of her heeled boots, wondering what business brought the Lady Malfoy to this particular department.
As she stood in front of the door of Hermione's office, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose in disgust. Although it was the second largest department within the Ministry of Magic, the office hardly seemed suitable for a future Malfoy bride. Something would need to be done. The Ministry had so readily seized so much in the name of reparations after the war; one was left to wonder where all those galleons had gone. Muggle-born or not; the girl was a war hero, the least they could do was provide her a decent office.
"Mrs. Malfoy, I thought I heard you." The girl in question opened the door and greeted Narcissa with a cheerful smile. "Please, come in."
"Ms. Granger," Narcissa followed her inside, her eyes taking in the interiors of the cramped office. "Quite the cozy... nest you have."
"Yes," Hermione started with an awkward chuckle. "Well, it used to be a storage closet for the department's files. I had to convince the Minister to let me convert it into an office." Hermione continued ignorant of Narcissa's disinterest in the topic, as the older woman's gaze turned to the clothes the muggle-born was wearing. Narcissa was never fond of the robes ministry employees were forced to wear, but the muggle-born seemed to have taken some rather clever liberties to maintain a distinctly feminine appeal. Even if the muggle-born girl were to wear the dull robes currently draped on her chair; her black sheath dress would serve as a suitable reminder that Hermione Granger was more than your average was a start, and showed that the young woman wasn't quite as fashion-challenged as the Lady Malfoy had feared. "After I proposed a more efficient cataloging and storage method, he had no other option but to oblige my request."
"Quite industrious of you, Ms. Granger." Narcissa placed a hand on the chair Hermione had offered but did not sit, instead choosing to examine the stacks of parchments on the muggle-born's desk. It looked rather haphazard and the older witch furrowed her brow. If this girl struggled to keep such a small space presentable when she was expecting a guest; Narcissa despaired for what awaited her family's home if this witch became the Lady of the Manor. Before she could fire off a snide remark, Hermione interrupted.
"Please, call me Hermione, Mrs. Malfoy. Can I get you anything?" She asked with a cheerful smile but her expression faltered once she noticed Narcissa's attention had been focused on her desk.
"I'm afraid we don't have time for such pleasantries, Ms. Granger. It's best we not dawdle. Shall we take a moment to tidy up before we leave?" She gestured to the desk waving her hand over the papers.
"Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione gasped reaching out to stop Narcissa not realizing that the older woman wasn't holding her wand. "Actually, I prefer to leave my work out." she smiled sheepishly withdrawing her hand. "It's easier to pick up from where I left off that way, and despite how it may look, there's an order to my chaos…"
Narcissa cut her off, "Perhaps, but if you bothered to employ a house elf, you needn't leave your office in such obvious disarray, Ms. Granger, if you're ready we may as well get on with our day."
If not for Tracey's advice and Hannah reminding her to be wary of her actions the day before; Hermione would've promptly offered her opinions on the excessive use of house-elf labor. Reminding the Lady Malfoy that it was wrong to treat elves as slaves or servants; that they never were supposed to be seen as such, and that's not why they had willingly bound themselves to wizards and witches. To give Narcissa the benefit of doubt, and hoping she'd misunderstood what the older woman meant, Hermione postponed her argument for now.
Narcissa took note of the young woman's demeanor, it was obvious that the former Gryffindor wished to say something but was restraining herself. An admirable effort, but ultimately her eyes betrayed expressively; even without legilimency, it was easy to read her emotions. To most Slytherins or Pureblood aristocrats she would be an easy target. Although the girl had a brilliant mind, and she had resisted Bella's interrogation; Hermione Granger's skills still fell short of those required of a lady of the house of Malfoy.
"Ms. Granger, our appointment is quite soon, and the proprietress does not take kindly to a lack of punctuality." Narcissa reached into her clutch and extracted a black compact.
"Right," Hermione agreed with a slight nod, remembering that Narcissa's visit today wasn't just a matter of getting to know her boyfriend's mother, but a trip to find a dress for Theo and Tracey's engagement party. The muggle-born witch had hoped to take advantage of the rare situation and learn more about the particularities of the unwilting lilies Narcissa had given to the Potters and the daffodils she had received from Draco, but that seemed unlikely now.
Hermione had done her own research in the Black Library and at Hogwarts but had only found vague clues. Similarly, Neville's investigations had revealed that the unwilting flowers were naturally self-sustaining rather than relying on spell work to remain pristine. Unfortunately according to Neville, uncovering the mystery of exactly how the flowers accomplished that might take years without more insight. Meaning that the answers to her questions could likely only be found exactly where Draco had suggested, with Lucius or Narcissa Malfoy.
The idea of having a discussion with Lucius Malfoy about the unique properties of his wife's unwilitng flowers was just absurd. That man had chosen Azkaban following the war because he was unwilling to provide his own memories to the court; instead opting to betray his former Death Eater allies to reduce his sentence. No, Narcissa was the only option, Lucius would only try to manipulate. That was not to say that the Malfoy matriarch wouldn't try to take advantage of Hermione's search for answers, but Narcissa was limited by her status as a lady of high society and the rules of pureblood etiquette. Rules that suggested she wouldn't try to touch up her makeup in front of a stranger, which meant the unopened compact in the Lady Malfoy's hand was more than it appeared.
"Mrs. Malfoy, would that compact happen to be a portkey?" Hermione asked. She suspected she already knew the answer, given that it was Narcissa who proposed they meet at the ministry and not at a shop.
Narcissa raised an eyebrow at the girl's question while watching Hermione collect a few folders and place them in a beaded bag.
As if sensing Narcissa's unasked question, Hermione explained with a sheepish smile. "Well, I thought that would be the only logical choice given how you seemed to be having issues with Twilfitt and Tattings, and Madame Malkins' isn't known for selling elegant dresses. Also, I doubt you'd deem any of the other wizarding boutiques on the British Isles worth your attention."
Narcissa smirked at the girl's clever deduction before her expression turned sour at the memory of her last trip to Twilfitt and proprietors of that establishment had not only failed to prepare her order on time, but hadn't completed the alterations of her husband's now ill-fitting dress robes. Such an indignity could not be allowed. The loss of patrons and their eventual closure would serve as a reminder of the power of the Malfoys, and also helped Narcissa justify the indignity of bringing a Muggle-born to a prestigious boutique.
"The boutique I have chosen for our shopping trip is very exclusive, Ms. Granger. Reservations are often made months in advance; of course, Malfoys are not beholden to such rules. Thankfully, despite such short notice, I was able to secure an appointment." Narcissa explained in a calm tone with a hint of displeasure seeping into her words due to Hermione's delayed response to her invitation. Hermione continued with her task apparently oblivious to Narcissa's remark, the older lady sighed and interrupted. "One moment, Ms. Granger. If you intend to wear the ministry robes, I'll need a moment with them."
Hermione looked bewildered at Narcissa's unusual request but handed them to her with a skeptical look. Narcissa pulled out her wand and with an intricate weave, transfigured the robes into a simple but elegant coat. While Hermione could appreciate the older woman's spell work, she wasn't pleased with the way Narcissa had handled the situation. "An inelegant solution, but far better than to be seen in the outdated fashion the Ministry Of Magic finds acceptable."
Hermione looked at the coat in her hand and reluctantly donned it. She took pride in wearing her ministry robes and objected to their transfiguration in the name of fashion. However, despite those objections and her valid arguments defending the ministry's choice of professional attire; their final destination was still a mystery leaving Hermione little choice but to begrudgingly accept Narcissa's alterations for now.
The young witch quickly took out her wand and weaved a few quick spells before turning to the older woman. "Alright, I removed some of my wards so we can use the portkey from my office itself. Normally, I have wards up to prevent malicious portkeys..."
Narcissa cast a look of condescension as she extended the tiny thing towards Hermione interrupting the younger woman. "Yes, I'm well aware of the Ministry's security measures." Looking at Hermione who was still conducting one final check of her office, she rolled her eyes. "Whenever you're ready, Ms. Granger."
As Hermione's hand grasped the smooth edges of the compact, her world began to spin along with her thoughts. The real battle started now. In her office she'd felt more confident, she'd had time to prepare. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option. Wherever they were headed, it was sure to be needlessly opulent, and prohibitively expensive. Before Narcissa had revealed the portkey, the expense had been the biggest concern, but Hermione had been ready for that, having taken an obscene amount of money out of her personal vault to avoid being indebted to the Malfoys. Now, her boyfriend's pureblood mother was taking her to a place beyond jurisdiction of the Ministry and she struggled to suppress her unease.
As soon as her feet found stable ground, Hermione's unease lessened and she gave a wry smile seeing her expectations were indeed correct. The boutique was exactly how she'd imagined, if not more ridiculously opulent. From lacy curtains to crystal chandeliers, to marble floors, it looked like the hall of a palace; even trays of champagne floating around greeted her eyes. Seeing her shopping partner already a step ahead, Hermione hastened her pace.
Hermione couldn't help but appreciate the elegance of the place, as she moved her gaze from dress to dress, each delicately displayed on the mannequins. She gasped as she saw herself in the place of a mannequin when passing one of them. She halted in her step as the mannequin looking like he gave her a wink and twirled around giving her a glimpse of how the dress looked on her frame.
"Amazing," she exclaimed bringing Narcissa's attention to Hermione's excitement. "This is incredible. I wonder what charms they use to keep that illusion in place. It seems to only activate when I look at it closely, perhaps a modified charm with a mirroring effect?"
Narcissa shook her head casting a wary look around her. Teaching this girl to curb those unsuitable Gryffindor tendencies had suddenly become more of a priority. After all, such blatant inquisitiveness leaves one open to being deceived. Restraint and control were the best way to survive in pureblood society. It had taken years and a war to teach her son that lesson, and it seemed his future bride suffered from the same affliction, albeit with a distinctly Gryffindor flair. Before Narcissa could act, Hermione's words caught the attention of a few patrons and the girl was unknowingly already on the receiving end of some bizarre looks.
"The esteemed Lady Malfoy, how kind of you to come back our little boutique. I was surprised to receive your owl. It's been so many years, and there were such ghastly rumors," A voice floated towards them and Narcissa turned to see a well-dressed woman walking up to them. "We'd thought you'd forgotten about us!"
Hermione didn't miss the curt smile the Malfoy matriarch had given in reply to the overenthusiastic greeting by someone who clearly seemed to be the boutique owner. Until now, Hermione had presumed that Narcissa had chosen this place because the owner was a friend of the family, but Narcissa's cold greeting left the muggle-born to wonder. Perhaps it was simply that the Malfoys greeted with everyone with cold disinterest.
"Forgive my manners; you're still in your coats." The owner hollered for an assistant and the latter rushed to the pair to collect Narcissa and Hermione's coats. "Oh my, your companion is quite lovely. Is she the one that's rumored to have seduced that precious son of yours, or is she yourpreferred paramour for him?" Hermione's cheeks turned red as the woman's unnecessarily inquisitive gaze ran up and down her body. "Come here, dear. Let me take a good look at you."
"Ms. Granger, this is Madame Selwyn, a seamstress and a designer who has designed many a dress for ladies of the House of Malfoy, as well as, a few of my son's suits." Narcissa began, ignoring the seamstress' comments about her companion. "A dear friend's engagement party is quite soon and the young lady needs a suitable dress."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Madame. Your boutique is beautiful," Hermione supplied politely, also choosing to ignore the hippogryph in the room. In this case, her natural instinct to declare her position as Draco's girlfriend might be a liability, given that Narcissa had chosen not to address the issue. This whole mess was already starting to give her a headache, trying to navigate the unfamiliar social situation without being 'quite so overbearing' as Tracey had kindly put it, wasn't easy. Worse still, if this boutique had made some of Draco's suits, the price of even the simplest dress could very well be absurd. She unconsciously clutched her beaded bag, hoping the galleons she brought would be sufficient.
"Granger? Where have I heard that name?OH! Oh..." The owner trailed off suddenly looking at the muggle-born girl as if she was an unusual curiosity rather than a person.
The loud exclamation of the boutique owner caught many ears and Narcissa cast a skeptic glance towards the muggle-born who was now truly the center of attention. Assessing the girl's reaction to this kind of treatment was yet another reason for this shopping trip. If everything went according to the Lucius' plan, Hermione Granger would carry not only the burden of her own celebrity and heritage but the stigma of being the first muggle-born Lady Malfoy; interacting with people who viewed her differently because of her status and dealing with them. It was imperative that the girl to learn to never entertain such thoughtless comments. A Malfoy should never allow anyone to demean them and should seek to 'correct' those who dared. The Malfoy matriarch waited for Hermione's response but the Gryffindor girl remained impassive, except for a slight blush and a poorly concealed look of irritation reflected in her eyes. It seemed that the brown-haired witch had no intention of offering up her own scathing retort to the seamstress' lack of respect.
"Shall we head to our usual private suite, or did you expect us to choose from the inadequate pieces you have on display here?" Narcissa offered coldly, prompting the shop owner into action.
"N-No, of course not," Madame Selwyn exclaimed, "This way, please. I've kept the best suite ready for you."
As Hermione followed Narcissa to the exclusive suite located in the back of the shoppe, she couldn't help but ponder about the owner's odd reaction to her identity, and Narcissa's subtle scrutiny. The way the owner's eyes narrowed and tone shifted screamed condescension, to say nothing of her earlier musings on Hermione's purpose here. What exactly was the Malfoy matriarch planning by bringing her to a place where she would be treated as an oddity instead of a human being. Was Narcissa knowingly trying to goad her into causing a scene to justify ordering Draco end their relationship?
"You've given me a real challenge, dear," Madame Selwyn started as soon as they were seated in a beautifully decorated suite and offered a plethora of refreshments. She reached for Hermione's hand and brought her to stand on a small podium. "The definitions of beauty have been vastly redefined, lately. Nowadays, the girls I see are so polished; always slender, elegant, and graceful. Well, I supposed uniqueness has its own appeal. Don't you agree, Narcissa?"
Narcissa's gaze turned to the younger girl and Hermione tried to contain her urge to cover up her very prominent clavicles. Even though the last few months had been kind to her and she was able to soften the bony edges of her body, her collarbones seem to be making a statement of their own.
The Madame turned to Narcissa and whispered, "I think it's a muggle-born thing." When Hermione shot a scandalized look, she giggled waving it off. "Oh. No offense, dear. It's just an observation."
Narcissa's eyes again sought out Hermione's reaction but the girl seemed to be employing a great deal of self-control. While it's certainly a commendable quality, it wasn't an appropriate response in these circumstances. Narcissa raised an eyebrow and wondered if Hermione would have kept up the same façade if the unkind remark had come from her. "Are you acquainted with many Muggle-borns, Madame Selwyn? You seem to have a developed a very distinct opinion of them."
"Not many, they're not the kind that can afford Haute Couture after all," The designer continued not clearly understanding the sarcasm behind Narcissa's words. "It's more the general notion. You don't need to interact with a lot of them to form an opinion. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, just different. Besides, a good oddity now and again is good practice for any designer."
A spark of anger flared in Hermione's eyes at the verbal exchange but nothing slipped out of her lips. She started to lose focus on the situation at hand. The so-called acclaimed designer hadn't been overly rude to her, at least not compared to past experiences, but the woman's manner of speech seemed focused on picking Hermione's self-confidence apart. It didn't seem intentionally malicious, but did that matter if the end result was the same? The dreams of a unified wizarding society born from the aftermath of the war would never come to pass if people remained unwilling to recognize and change their bad habits. The former Gryffindor knew these changes couldn't happen overnight, but after so many years she'd thought the wizarding world at large had progressed further; evidently not.
"Certainly not the most lady-like figure, but there's enough feminine charm here to work with." The Madame's fingers brushed over the curve of Hermione's hip and the latter jumped at the unexpected contact. "These hips are going to be the biggest challenge. This flare at her hips ruins her silhouette, it works well with this kind of dress, but in the wrong gown, she'll look coltish and awkward instead of elegant and curvy. Still, I'm confident I have a gown that will meet your needs." The Madame shifted to address Hermione directly, who had been lost in thought, passively ignoring the scrutiny she'd been under. "Although, you're here only for a dress, my dear. We might want to consider options to help tame your um… unique hair."
Narcissa stifled an unladylike snort as Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably. It took a minute for Hermione to process that while her mind had been elsewhere the discussion had apparently shifted from her identity to her physical attributes. This day was just getting better and better, she thought mirthlessly.
"Madame, I need a gown that brings out her latent potential so my son doesn't look like a fool. No price is too high, and I refuse to accept one of those lackluster pieces you had on display. This dress must be unique, accentuating her natural beauty with an air of refinement and elegance befitting a Malfoy." Narcissa spoke in a no-nonsense of tone, clearly letting the designer know her requirements.
Hermione looked on with a dropped jaw as Narcissa spoke passionately. Things were getting out of hand and if she didn't say anything now, she might end up upstaging Tracey and Theo at their own engagement party, all because of the Lady Malfoy's absurd fashion standards.
"That's a tall order, Mrs. Malfoy but I won't disappoint you. I'm certain there's something in my special collection that meets your requirements. Enjoy the refreshments, I shouldn't be long. It's not often I get the opportunity to turn a lump of clay into a work of art fit for high society." Without letting Hermione reply, Madame Selwyn sprinted out of the place with a beaming smile on her face.
Looking at Hermione, who kept chewing on her lip as if she was trying to pry out the words stuck there, Narcissa prodded. "Such a unique woman, isn't she? Depending on her performance, I may consider investing in her attempts to expand into London."
Hermione looked up at her with an incredulous look. "To be honest," she began meekly, trying to offer her perspective without opting for a vociferous statement. "Unique isn't the word I'd use. I find her to be rather naïve and a bit judgmental. This boutique may be beautiful, and she may be a talented designer, but her perspective seems superficial and reliant on poor research. If I were you, I'll think twice before investing in her business. Talent doesn't always breed success." Hermione's stoic demeanor shifted as she shared her thoughts.
"True, but are you certain you haven't developed a bias? You seem to be drawing conclusions from her remarks about you. If you were troubled, why not speak up? Surely, you noticed she was demeaning you in an attempt to gain my favor, and yet you let her." Narcissa shook her head with a slight disappointment and turned to take a small shortcake from the tray. "If I were in your position, she would've been put in her place before the thought of demeaning a Malfoy entered her mind."
Hermione looked at the older woman with a stunned expression. It took a moment for Hermione to understand the depth of Narcissa's thinly veiled accusation. "Mrs. Malfoy, I don't understand. I thought the woman was a dear friend of yours. She might have been quite rude, but setting aside preconceptions is the best way to get to know someone. So, I thought it best to give her the benefit of the doubt for both our sakes. Besides, it's not the first time I've dealt with people looking down on me," she replied confidently looking directly at Narcissa, "And I'm certain it won't be the last."
"Friends? How did you come to such an absurd conclusion?" Narcissa Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "These people are nothing more than sycophantic peddlers desperately vying for our Galleons. There is no reason to be hesitant when dealing with such disrespect." Narcissa's expression remained unchanged as she continued. "Was facing a mere seamstress more daunting than your adventures with Mr. Potter? Where is that impertinent witch who challenged her betters and bested them? Whose academic efforts left is my son feeling inadequate? I know a great deal of the girl you had been, but know little of the woman you've become. I had hoped this shopping trip would remedy that, but despite a few clever moments, it seems you grew up to be quite the waste of potential."
Hermione silently seethed. She'd been right when she guessed that this trip was all some elaborate test designed by Draco's mother. The muggle-born's attempts to be considerate of the elder Malfoy had been a mistake. Idiotically trying to twist herself to adhere to someone else's rules wasn't like her, but after talking to Hannah, Hermione had doubted herself. She focused on trying to exceed expectations just like she had at Hogwarts with her Professors. She should have known better. Snape had never praised her for being a diligent student, and Narcissa was cut from the same Slytherin cloth. Still, if Narcissa Malfoy wanted to know what kind of woman Hermione had become, then it was time to show her.
The moment Hermione cemented her resolve, Narcissa's gaze turned to the door and her expression immediately morphed into a pleasant but now obviously false mask. "That was quite fast, Madame Selwyn." She looked over the designer's shoulder at the large dress rack that was hovering behind her. "Are you certain you gave this selection enough thought? At a glance, none of these dresses seem particularly striking." She finished, casually glancing towards her muggle-born companion.
"I think you'll find appearances can be deceiving, Lady Malfoy. These are some of my most coveted pieces" The seamstress declared as she extended her hand towards Hermione and pulled the young woman closer to the dresses.
Until now, understanding Narcissa's behavior had been a struggle for Hermione, but suddenly everything made sense. The furtive glances and choosing not to address the seamstress' casual bigotry and insults had been clues. Moments where the Malfoy Matriarch had expected the Gryffindor to take action. Slytherins spent lives their living in subtext, Theo, Draco, and Tracey had hinted at that countless times, but Hermione had been too lost in her own head today to see it clearly. Even when Narcissa was demeaning her just now; hidden in the subtext was praise for past accomplishments and an acknowledgment of latent potential. Slytherins really were mentally exhausting. Draco had mentioned several times that by agreeing to date him, she was accepting that he didn't come alone. She'd thought she understood the implications of his words but as with everything about their relationship expectation and reality rarely matched up.
Taking one last glance at the elder Malfoy, Hermione finally turned to the dress rack focusing her thoughts on the task at hand, rather than the company.
Helping Hermione to look through the dresses the shop owner continued in a cheerful tone. "Oh, you should've seen Draco when he was little. So sweet, and such perfect manners for his age. It was an absolute pleasure to tailor his suits; he always knew exactly what he wanted. I'm sure he must've grown into quite the dashing young man."
"One would expect nothing short of perfection from a Malfoy heir," Narcissa said with pride, her eyes shifting for a moment to Hermione who continued to sort through the dresses. "My son was born for greatness."
Hermione stifled a snort at Narcissa's words as she dismissed a rather gaudy pink dress. Perfection? Certainly not! Draco had grown up to be sure, but there were still quite a few aspects of Narcissa's precious heir that needed some serious tinkering. Having the Slytherin in her life was frustrating and he was without a doubt, more troublesome than past paramours. However; some of his little idiosyncrasies weren't without their own all, he'd been the one to forcibly rip open her heart exposing the guilt she'd buried within its depths, helping her in his own way. The Malfoy heir obviously wasn't as perfect as his mother believed, yet the muggle-born witch couldn't help but think that Draco Malfoy might also be the sort of imperfect person she needed.
"He's quite busy nowadays overseeing our business ventures, and offering special lectures at Hogwarts, while still conducting his own laudable research," Narcissa continued with the same demeanor.
"Don't forget all the time he's spent courting me. I swear; his kisses are a menace to rational thought!" Hermione thought to herself before realizing that these were not the kind of thoughts she should be having given her current company. The last thing Hermione needed was to be having naughty thoughts about Draco with his mother in the same room, particularly if the elder Malfoy was a legilimens.
As the young witch returned to her perusal of the dresses, she paused to examine a dark green halter dress that stood out from the rest. Running her fingers on the subtle embroidery on its bodice, Hermione couldn't help but smile. It was a lovely design, but it was also a rather Slytherin shade of green. The enmity between Slytherin and Gryffindor had always made her feel hesitant about wearing certain shades of green in the wizarding world. It was a silly thing really, Harry's Weasley family jumpers were often either emerald or scarlet, but for whatever reason, probably Malfoy's fault, Hermione had avoided the color. "Oh, sod it! I'm already bloody dating him, might as well go green too," she thought to herself, the party was going to be a mostly Slytherin event after all.
"Oh! Ms. Granger, my apologies. Why don't you leave that one alone," the designer spoke in a flustered tone taking the dress from Hermione's hands."I don't know how this one ended up in here. It's one of my more experimental pieces. It's not for..." Madame Selwyn trailed off, pushing the dress further away from Hermione while simultaneously trying to guide the muggle-born to the ones at the end of the rack. "Believe me; thesedresses are far more suited to your... um... unique figure."
The whole exchange wasn't missed by Narcissa. She'd seen Hermione's initial reaction to that dress and saw how the young witch's gaze lingered on the green dress a bit longer as it was pushed aside. It was easy to guess what was going on in her mind. Narcissa couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Hermione's choice. The dress was certainly unique, but she hadn't expected a proud Gryffindor to select a green dress. While the dress itself wouldn't have been Narcissa's her first choice, she had to admit she'd underestimated the depth of the muggle-born girl's fashion sense. The Malfoy Matriarch had expected the young woman to pick a lackluster periwinkle, violet, or burgundy colored dress to contrast her chestnut curls, but couldn't deny the reality that Hermione Granger would certainly look like a Malfoy bride in that green gown. It was also obvious that the girl didn't intend to hold herself back as she had earlier; leaving Narcissa was quite relieved that her likely successor hadn't allowed anger to hurt her composure, unlike a typical Gryffindor.
"I think I can make that choice myself, thank you." Hermione reached for the dress, only to be interrupted by Madame Selwyn.
"I'm only saying for your sake, Ms. Granger. Take advantage of my experience and save yourself from heartbreak. I've seen it countless times, if you put on that dress and it doesn't meet your expectations you'll doubt yourself and might make a bad choice. If you don't trust me, ask Lady Malfoy. There's nothing worse than putting on a dress doesn't suit you."
Hermione took a deep breath and looked at the woman in front of her as she pulled out a lilac-colored dress with cap sleeves and ruffles waist down. Hermione bit her lip and cast a look at the other dresses frowning when she noticed most of them besides the 'bad' green dress were quite similar.
"Go on, dear. This will be absolutely gorgeous on you. The sleeves and the neck will highlight your clavicles, and the ruffles will hide your hips giving the illusion of a truly stunning figure."
"Wow," Hermione started with an amused expression much to the delight of the boutique owner, but Narcissa didn't miss the hint of exasperation in her voice.
"Hm, interesting. Will you be trying on that lilac dress Ms. Granger?" Narcissa asked with a smirk of her own.
Hermione shot a skeptic look at the elder Malfoy who was clearly challenging her.
"Why would I do that?" Hermione asked with her hands on her hips. "I'm not the sort of person who hides behind anything. So, why would I want to create the illusion anything that wasn't true?"
"You don't want to?" Madame Selwyn asked with an incredulous look. "Are you sure, my dear? You don't want to be the odd duck at whatever party you're planning to attend. You're a Muggle-born, that's problematic enough already, but if you're not even trying to look the part, you'll never be welcomed in our society."
Hermione chuckled lightly at the flustered designer and plucked a dress off the rack. "I think I'll try this one, Madame Selwyn. I can't wait to hear your opinion on how it looks." With those last words, Hermione disappeared into the changing room with the green dress dangling from her fingers.
"Such a pigheaded girl! How does she expect to survive in our world being so rebellious?" The seamstress questioned quietly to herself, "You can't create or maintain good relationships with esteemed pureblood families if you don't conform. The brightest witch of her age? Absurd, she's damn foolish."
"Foolish indeed." Narcissa murmured looking at Madame Selwyn. Anyone who presumed to speak however they pleased about any Malfoy past, present, or future, was indeed incredibly foolish.
Hermione couldn't suppress a sigh as she overheard Madame Selwyn's rant while she slipped out of her sheath dress. The dressmaker's words were just another reminder of how much work still needed to be done to fix the problems of the wizarding society.
As soon as the soft fabric of the green dress slipped onto her body, Hermione smiled looking at the reflection in the mirror. It surely was a beautiful dress. A small part of her had been hesitant to try it on after the Madame's ridiculous claims, but it was time the designer learned that this muggle-born witch lived to defy pureblood expectations. Checking herself in the full-length mirrors, she noticed the dress highlighted her natural curves perfectly giving her a graceful silhouette. The slit was just the right amount, modest enough to complete the look she was going for while giving her just enough room to move around. Given the fabric's soft feel, Hermione couldn't help but marvel that this gown was not only beautiful, but was also very comfortable. The opinions of the witches outside didn't seem to matter anymore; she intended to buy this dress. Her thoughts immediately shifted to the galleons in her purse and she couldn't help but feel a little anxious again. Unique designer dresses were notoriously expensive; hopefully, she could get out of here, dress-in-hand without making a fool out of herself by needing to rely on Malfoy money.
Before letting herself out of the changing room, Hermione's eyes caught on a unique stitching pattern on the dress' seams. It felt eerily familiar, but it took a minute before Hermione realized where exactly she'd seen that type of stitch. She gasped, recognizing that sewing style as one she'd seen many times before on Ron's Maroon jumper. The artistic flair was almost the exact same one as letter 'R' on Ron's Christmas jumpers or any of on Harry's jumpers but now the same embroidery and stitching were mirrored on the dress she was currently wearing. Luna's revelation all those weeks ago that older Pureblood families often had their own unique and exclusive sewing technique echoed in Hermione's mind. Was Madame Selwyn somehow related to the Weasleys? It seemed plausible, most purebloods were related somehow, and it certainly was the case if you went back far enough, but this was still a bit too odd.
As the wheels in her brain started to turn, Hermione stepped out of the changing room and the two other women in the room stopped mid-conversation to look at her.
Narcissa rose from her spot and approached Hermione her eyes taking in the way the dress fit on her. It was an amazing fit and Narcissa appreciated that the girl knew how to present herself. "Your thoughts, Ms. Granger?" She asked noticing Hermione looking somewhat lost in thought.
Before Hermione replied, Madame Selwyn jumped in. "I think the poor girl's already regretting her choice. Come on; let's get into something that'll make you look a beautiful pureblood witch."
Hermione took a step back pulling herself away from Madame Selwyn's fingers, as she tried to reach for her. "Actually, I'm quite happy with the way this dress fits and I think I look quite good wearing it. However, there's something I'm curious about, are you related to the Prewett or Weasley families?"
Narcissa furrowed her brow at the muggle-born's question, if that were the case the Malfoys wouldn't have shopped here for generations. Then she noticed Hermione's fingers brushing an embroidered seam. It didn't take long for the Malfoy Matriarch to understand the cleverness of the muggleborn's question and become angry at the revelation. The sewing style was one that she recognized quite well and it was certainly as one the dressmaker had no right to use.
"No, one of my husband's great aunts was a Parkinson by marriage, but my family is from the mainland or abroad, all pure I'm proud to say." Selwyn answer with an air of smugness as if trying to preen for Narcissa. "Also, I suppose I'll admit you look better in that dress than I expected. Still, I don't think that dress is suitable for a societal event, but if you're okay with the consequences." She added in a last ditch effort to change the mugge-born's mind."Regardless, I'm very proud of that dress. The fabric is from a renown wizarding textile company in the east, and I hand stitched every leaf, and vine on that dress myself." both Narcissa and Hermione's heads shot up at that declaration, but Madame Selwyn continued oblivious to her own revelation, "That's why I was hesitant to let you try it on. It's a very rare magical technique, and I was worried such needlework would be wasted on you. Mercifully, that dress does suit you, which puts my mind at ease."
"So, you're personally responsible for the embroidery?" Hermione pinned the designer with a pointed gaze and Narcissa shot an amused look at the fire in the muggle-born's eyes. When the designer nodded her head in confusion Hermione continued with a sigh. "Then you're in violation of international wizarding law. This is the Weasley family's traditional sewing and embroidery style. Reproduction and sale of traditional pureblood sewing techniques is illegal, unless a person is part of that family, has express permission, or the bloodline is extinct."
Madame Selwyn dismissed Hermione's claims with a wave of her hand. "As I understand it, the Weasleys are a disgrace to pureblood society. I doubt their techniques even qualify for protected status. If anything, I'm doing them a favor. You are muggle-born for Merlin's sake. Best to keep your nose out of pureblood matters I'd think." The designer said with a raised chin and unmasked condescension.
"A Muggleborn knows more about these revered pureblood customs than you, Madame Selwyn, a pureblood. Now tell me who exactly should learn more about this society. It's really a shame you're still looking at this world through your prejudiced eyes." When Madame Selwyn tried to interject, Hermione dismissed her with a wave. "Honestly, I should let the wizarding law enforcement take care of you, but let me offer you a piece of Muggle wisdom. It's in your best interest to contact Molly Weasley, beg for forgiveness and offer her reparations or else you'll rue the day you called Weasleys a disgrace."
Narcissa swiftly took command of the situation, cutting down the designer's remarks. "You've forgotten you're in the company of a Malfoy. Regardless of their status in our society, the Weasley bloodline is still pure. So, I'd think it wise to follow the advice you've been so generously given. Ms. Granger isn't called the brightest witch of her age for nothing and she's earned her place in our world."
Hearing their words, the designer fell silent. Seeing it as her triumph, Narcissa took another step towards the designer speaking in a hushed tone. "To speak ill of that young lady is to speak ill of a Malfoy. Our patronage has been more than generous over the years, and it would be in your best interest to remedy this insult lest you lose favor with one who might succeed me."
That night in her bed, the former Gryffindor girl was still trying to decipher the hazy memories of everything that had happened after Narcissa's declaration. She remembered Draco's mother talking about minor alterations to the now timid seamstress; the vexed and incredulous look she'd received from the Lady Malfoy when she offered to pay for the dress; and the absolute shock of hearing her given name spoken by Narcissa when they parted ways after them taking the portkey back to her call it an eventful day would be an understatement, if Hermione hadn't prepared with Tracey a day earlier who knew how much worse it could have gone.
Hermione sat braced against her headboard; fingers twirling the unwilting daffodil she'd taken from the vase on her night table. Her thoughts circled around the elder woman's choice of words. It was a shock to say the least, given the implication. Never once had the curly haired witch believed, that a Malfoy would approve of a muggle-born dating their precious heir, let alone the former Black. Yet, Narcissa had not only taken a muggle-born shopping to buy an exquisite gown, she subtly hinted that she could accept Hermione taking over her position as the next Lady Malfoy. It was all completely mad!
She reached for a glass of water just beside the flower vase on her night table trying to soothe her parched throat. Why were these Malfoys so befuddling! This trip with Narcissa had made things feel so much more complicated. She understood that she was at the age when most of her peers would be getting married or starting a family, but she hadn't really considered that kind of thing with Draco Malfoy of all people. In fact, part of the reason she'd jumped in so quickly with the Malfoy heir was that a future together felt impossible. It felt like a childish dream; one that quickly kept becoming more plausible, even when she wished it wouldn't. From Draco on Sunday to Narcissa today, weren't these people supposed to be pureblood supremacists?! "What's next Crooks, is Lucius going to invite me to live at the Manor?" she said, addressing her half-kneazle companion as he sauntered into her bedroom.
Her gaze turned back daffodil in her hand. She'd wanted to ask Narcissa more about them, but had been too distracted after their shopping trip. After today, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that there was more meaning to these unwilting flowers than just their magical properties. Draco said they were grown in Narcissa's garden, but hadn't elaborated much beyond that. Daffodils were also called Narcissus, so it could have been just an expression of the Malfoy Matriarch's vanity and some silly pureblood tradition about bringing flowers. That theory made sense, but that would only apply if the daffodils had been normal flowers. These flowers were special, so why would Narcissa give something so valuable and mysterious to her; the muggle-born girl her son was meeting for a business dinner? Hermione was very certain neither she nor Draco had been considering romance at the time, so why give her everlasting daffodils?
Hermione scoffed, dropping both hands into her lap. The harassment case, Narcissa had manipulated things so Hermione would convince Harry to look into the threats against her. That explained the everlasting Narcissus. Draco had been made to deliver a namesake flower that wouldn't wither, to give both Harry and Hermione a gentle reminder and the little extra push they needed to be mindful of the Malfoy Matriarch and the threats against her. It just the kind of manipulation you'd expect from a veteran Slytherin; calculating and unobtrusive unless you really paid attention. She should have figured it out sooner, but at the time she was still getting over her failed relationship with Ron, and her elf project was finally getting traction after years of negative progress.
As the realization settled in, Hermione couldn't be too upset about how Narcissa's manipulations had turned out thus far. Thanks to Lady Malfoy's meddling, Harry had given his beloved wife a beautiful gift of devotion on their wedding day, and it may have even pushed Hermione to move on from Ron. The threats against Narcissa had been real and credible which made it hard to begrudge the elder Malfoy her manipulations. Regardless of past mistakes, no one should be made to live in fear, even if some people thought it was justified.
So much had changed in the last few days, it all seemed surreal. When Hermione began dating Draco, she had expected resistance from his family, yet, the reality of the situation was very different. Now it seemed that at the very least one of the two elder Malfoys were okay with their son dating a Muggle-born, and potentially joining their family. It was so confusing, but hopefully, there would be time to figure it out looked at the large folder labeled 'ELF' and sighed. Her project took precedence. Figuring out the Malfoys could wait until she's done with her hearing with Wizenagamot. Once the Office of Elfish Licensing and Freedom was officially approved, she'd have time to figure out these Malfoy mysteries.