A cute little shopping trip for our girls. :) I told you it gets fluffier from here on out. I couldn't write any more sad stuff!
As always, I do not own anything related to Harry Potter and make no money from posting this story.
"Granger!" She overheard beckoning as the floo rumbled to life downstairs the next morning. Closing her book and setting it aside, Hermione furrowed her brow slightly.
"Hermione! Get your arse down here!"
"Pansy?" She inquired from the top of the stairs, and she could practically hear the eye-roll printed in the scoff she got in acknowledgment.
"Who else would it be, Granger, honestly."
"Well, I wasn't expecting you home today," Hermione retorted as she descended the stairs.
"Well, of course not. I told you I'd be home tomorrow. Get dressed," Pansy instructed.
Pansy's sleek black hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that cascaded down her back, obviously charmed for extra length. She wore a tight, dark green dress that landed right between her knees and thighs. She looked immaculate from head to toe, per usual when she left home, and Hermione grimaced somewhat at her own appearance.
"I am dressed," Hermione replied, indicating her jumper and loose-fitting joggers with a roll of her hand, feeling wholly inadequate.
"Uh… no. Real dressed. We're going shopping."
"Shopping? For what? Aren't you supposed to be on a work trip?"
"A little birdie let slip that you're going to the Ministry's Hallowe'en ball. So, bugger work. Shopping!"
"But… who?"
"Narcissa plans the event, Hermione. Keep up," Pansy bemoaned.
"I can't keep up with your insanity, Pansy."
"Get dressed!"
Hermione groaned at that. "I hate shopping. Truly."
"Well, you've never gone with me! Pip pip!" When Hermione didn't move briskly enough, Pansy snapped her fingers. "Hop to it! Haven't got all day, Granger!"
"Fine,emPans/em!" Hermione said with a huff as she went to dress, Pansy laughing as she vanished from sight.
"Nice clothing! We've got appointments at fancy places!" Hermione heard shouted up after her as she stomped toward her room.
She truly hated shopping. Trying on clothing and footwear had scarcely been a pleasant experience in her youth. And she had denied her mother trips to the shops more often than not. Judging by the reasonably dull wardrobe that she knew waited for her, that had cared over into her adult life.
As she stood in front of her wardrobe, a simple periwinkle sundress called out to her. As she pulled it out, her mind wandered to her mother and the times they had shared. She mulled over her mother's appeals, urging her to go shopping. Realizing for the first time that the offers weren't to possibly change her appearance, but to share experiences with each other. And it saddened her somewhat at the lost opportunities, tears watering along her lower lids.
Hermione penned a quick note to Harry. Informing him that she was going shopping with Pansy and might be a tad tardy to their regular supper time. She grabbed a coat and swung it over her arms, pocketing her wand, before heading downstairs.
Pansy was rapping her heel on the ground when Hermione entered the sitting room a few minutes later.
"Merlin, finally. We've got less than 5 minutes now!"
"5 minutes until what?"
"Our portkey."
"A portkey?" Hermione grinned. She had read of the artifacts and their uses for long-distance travel but hadn't encountered one.
"Yes. Here, hold this side," Pansy instructed as she held out a small ceramic plate. "Hurry," she said when Hermione stalled somewhat.
When her hand grasped the cold vessel, it was mere moments before she was tugged away. It felt like a hook was pulling her naval backward, and queasiness settled in her gut. Just for a moment, she felt stretched until her skin seemed to slap back into place as their feet hit solid ground.
"Pansy, where are we?" Hermione breathed as she took in their surrounding, nausea in her gut slowly fading.
People hummed and walked swiftly by them, but no one seemed to be rushing. Wafts of delicious food invaded her nose, and she sighed as if she'd never detected aromas so delicious. The street Pansy pulled her onto was crowded, but people seemed to move with purpose. She had a feeling she knew where they might be, but it was impossible.
"Paris."
She had been correct. She and Pansy had just been in their living room, and now they stood on a cobblestone street in Paris. She marveled at how powerful and stunning magic could be.
"I've never been to Paris. Or… I can't remember ever going," Hermione stated as she fell into pace with Pansy.
"Well, our portkey home isn't until later, so we can explore a bit," Pansy grinned. "First, you need a dress. Shoes?" Her tone a question, but she didn't let Hermione answer. "Who am I kidding. Of course, shoes."
"I have shoes!"
"But do you have heels, Granger?"
"Well… no. They seem insensible."
"Oh, they make loads of sense. To the right man." Pansy shot her a salacious wink, and Hermione felt herself blush at the implication.
The pair strolled along the busy path until Pansy came to a halt outside a posh boutique storefront with stunning gowns in the window. Hermione furrowed her brow slightly as she gazed in. Everything had a demeanor of sophistication that she knew came with a price tag she couldn't afford.
"Pansy, I'm not sure I can afford any of this," she said meekly.
"It's on me," Pansy said with a straight face.
"Oh, Pansy, I can't ask you to do that! You've already done so much," Hermione started, but Pansy held up a hand.
"This is just as much for me as it is for you. When someone asks who dressedemthe/emHermione Granger for the biggest event of the year, I'll get to say it was me. Imagine the business I'll get."
"Plus, Draco will owe me," she added and laughed when Hermione's face flushed beet red. "Come on, then," she ordered, pulling Hermione into the quiet boutique.
"Pansy?" A regal voice called out as the door closed behind them.
"Mum!" Her counterpart squealed and ran to embarrass a tall, ethereal looking woman that Hermione recognized almost immediately. "What are you doing here?"
"I imagine the same as you. A new dress for the Ministry reception." The woman gave Pansy a bright smile as she pulled back and inspected her. "More radiant every day, dear."
"Oh, mum! I've got someone with me you should meet," Hermione heard Pansy say, and panic raced in her gut as her friend pulled the woman along toward her. "Mum, this is Hermione Granger."
There was no doubt in Hermione's mind now. Standing in front of her was none other than Draco's mother. The absolutely elegant, regal, demure blonde woman who now eyed her was undoubtedly Narcissa Malfoy. The woman who had watched her tortured by her own sister. Who had gone to extensive lengths to save her own son. Who had inadvertently freed the entirety of wizarding Britain in doing so.
The beautiful blonde woman held out a delicate hand and smiled serenely at Hermione. "Ms. Granger, it is so nice to meet you... properly. Narcissa Malfoy."
"It's... it's wonderful to meet you," Hermione stammered as she clasped Narcissa's hand lightly, a shocked expression on her face.
Dropping Hermione's hand, Narcissa addressed Pansy with a sweet smile. "I've just picked my dress. I was taking my leave, actually. So I'll leave you two to it."
"Oh, mum, please stay! I'm sure we would both value your opinion!" Pansy begged. "Right, Hermione?"
"Oh. Uh, yes. That would be nice," Hermione gave the two a small smile, but her insides were twisting over on themselves.
"I wouldn't want to intrude, dear."
"We insist! You must stay," Pansy demanded, and Hermione gave a brief nod as Narcissa's gaze landed on her. She had a look on her face that Hermione couldn't read, but it made her stomach flip anew.
"Well, alright. You've convinced me. Nicolas," and the man who had been standing the corner sauntered over with speed to Narcissa's side. "This is my daughter Pansy and her dear friend Hermione." The man bowed and kissed both of their hands. "We'll be needing a dress for each."
An hour later, Hermione was frustrated. She had donned at least ten gowns that all three women had been unable to agree /emwas why she hated shopping.
"One more?" came Nicolas' deep french twang as propped open her fitting room door. He unzipped the bag and drew out a stunning dusty blue gown.
And the dress nearly took Hermione's breath away. She rose slowly, setting her water aside as her mouth fell open, unable to close. She approached somewhat apprehensively. As if the dress were a wild animal that would run should she move too quickly and spook it.
She took a moment to truly take herself in as Nicolas assisted her into the gown. It was an absolute tulle dream. The illusion neckline sat low in front but gave her breasts an almost enchanting level of cleavage.
The bodice was wrapped in a luxurious silver floral and vine patterned lace, somewhat resembling her wand. It worked its way up her shoulder and down over her hips onto the floor-length tulle skirt. As she turned, she noticed the low cut backline which sat just above her hips. The delicate lace traced intricate floral patterns across her back that echoed the beauty of the front.
"Magnifique," Nicolas spoke and pulled her from her attention with a radiant smile. "Show your mother?" He asked, and Hermione simply nodded.
It stung a touch to rememberemher/emmother wasn't sitting in the showroom waiting, but she put on a small smile regardless.
She wanted to cry when she stepped onto the pedestal and gazed at herself in the framed mirrors. She had never felt this beautiful. Or at least, she couldn't remember a time that she had cared. She imagined this was how her younger self felt as she waltzed the Great Hall during the Yule Ball.
"Darling... you look stunning. My son is a lucky man," Narcissa said. She set her hands on Hermione's shoulders, looking her in the eye through the sizable picturesque mirror with a delicate smile. "He won't know what to do with himself," she chuckled.
Hermione's heart hammered somewhat at Narcissa's confession. It was clear Draco had talked to his mother about her. About them. And she didn't know how to feel about that.
"Are you sure it isn't too much?" Hermione said shyly.
"Oh, no. It is /emare perfect."
"Thank you," Hermione whispered.
"Dear, I must thankemyou,"/emNarcissa responded and held a hand up to Hermione through the mirror when she started to retort. Narcissa spun her then and settled her hands back onto Hermione's shoulders.
"I must thank you for giving my son a second chance. He did many unforgivable things as a child. I know how long he has harbored a crush for you, but he never thought he would get a chance."
And Hermione could only nod somewhat as redness grew deeper over her face. Narcissa sounded as though she wished to slip a ring over her finger at this very moment. And Hermione had scarcely seen Draco in the last month. Her cheeks flamed as the thoughts of what he could have told his mother invaded her mind.
"It… warms my heart that you've given Draco even the slightest forgiveness."
"He's done so much for me since my accident."
"And he will do more, I have no doubt," Narcissa smiled, and Hermione could see a sheen of unshed tears over her irises. "I do hope I will also be able to win your forgiveness."
"Of course," Hermione said with a nod, trying to hold back her own tears that threatened her ducts.
"Hermione, you look stunning!" Pansy's voice sounded as she slipped into view. And Hermione was utterly grateful for her presence.
She looked stunning, draped in a dark plum dress that hung loosely yet still managed to form her figure perfectly. The perfect image of a Greek Goddess.
"So do you, Pansy."
"Both of my girls look wonderful," Narcissa cooed as Pansy stepped onto the pedestal beside Hermione.
And Hermione couldn't help the darker blush at being referred to as one of Draco's mother's "girls."
"Do we all agree these are your dresses?" Narcissa questioned, and both Pansy and Hermione sang their approvals.
"Then, they are my treat. Nicolas, please put this lovely pair of gowns on my account."
Pansy hopped off the platform and wrapped Narcissa in a hug. Hermione stepped down behind her and could only smile as tears welled and fell from her eyes.
"Come here, sweetheart," Narcissa said softly, and Pansy stepped aside. She held out her arms wide, and Hermione nearly fell into them.
The pure motherly love that radiated from Draco's mother enveloped her as she cried. She had missed this type of affection so dearly. She hadn't even realized the pain that was sitting on her heart. As Narcissa shushed her, running a soft hand down her curls, she cried a bit harder.
"I'm sorry," Hermione laughed through her tears, trying to soothe herself.
"No need to apologize, dear," Narcissa said with a sweet smile. "Now, run and get out of that dress."
The three shopped for hours after that, along the busy streets of Paris. Hermione had been forced into a rather tall, for her, pair of heels and learned witches generally cast steadying and cushioning charms to help them walk. Sensible, she thought.
Narcissa bought her a slew of new clothing, from new denim jeans to rather sleek professional dresses and pencil skirts. Flirty shirts she would have never chosen for herself, and a few knicker sets she would absolutely never wear.
But the joy on the woman's face as they strolled and talked and shopped had been infectious. And Hermione couldn't dampen their mood.
They portkeyed home separately after a delicious dinner, and both Pansy and Hermione fell into her bed, utterly exhausted. And even though Pansy snored that night, Hermione couldn't remove the smile from her lips as she fell asleep.