There are some truly, very snobbish people taking up space in the world. It seems they've been given one goal in life: to look down their ugly noses on anyone and anything. They never rest or take a break from that specific job until they have demolished something so thoroughly, so entirely, that it can never be rebuilt the same again. But the worst is when they've shamed, smashed, and launched word grenades that explode in the worst ways possible. They leave behind destruction so absolute that the target becomes unidentifiable.
There are different kinds of snobs: food snobs, clothes snobs, job snobs, house snobs, brain snobs, music and art snobs, and people snobs. Honestly, there's a snob for everything a person could think of, and the truth is the true snob never rests. They're never happy, always finding complaints about something, as well as more and more people to disdain. And that is the definition of arrogance. At least Hermione thinks so.
It's easy to say you don't care what anyone believes about you. It's painless to brush off cruel comments and carry on your way as if it doesn't affect you. What's challenging is the effort it takes to hide the fact that you actually do care and that it does hurt. Hermione has always wanted friends, real friends. Her whole life, she's never really fit in anywhere, even at Hogwarts, where the Slytherin put-downs have been relentless over the years. It doesn't matter that she's a witch, the same as everyone else. No. Neither did it matter that her hair became tame or her teeth were fixed and are now average looking. No. What matters is the fact she's not a pureblood or as flawlessly stunning as some of those glam-looking witches. However, that all changed with Marcus.
When she thinks about how they came together, it's heart-stirring and a bit unpredictable. In fact, it's like one of those teen love movies she enjoys watching: Teen Witch, Clueless, Can't Buy Me Love, Sixteen Candles, and her favorite, Pretty In Pink. A Rich, hot guy falls for the brainy, nerdy girl, and poof-sparks fly. Hermione never thought that particular plot line would happen to her. Yet, here she is, dating the wealthy, hot athlete. It's totally like that popular song in her trusty cd player sung by Alanis Morissette. It's a little ironic, don't you think?
And whenever Hermione considers the snobby people in her life, Marcus is the first person that comes to mind but not because he's pretentious. No. Before their relationship, her guy was the embodiment of snobbishness. He grew up in the quintessential pureblood household, was taught the pureblood ways, sorted into the elite Slytherin house, and has been friends with many of the old, established families in wizarding society. Prior to dating her, he admitted to liking those superficial, plastic-looking girls. Which is absolutely the pureblood thing to do, and it's not so different from muggles (especially celebrities or royalty). And the thing about that is it's a very lonely life to live because these people are the loneliest ones surrounded by a sea of fakeness.
They're always pretending- to be better, to act better, to live better, or to have better. It's forever better. Over the years, Hermione has learned the idea of success to snobs, especially snobby girls, is to be (or become) one of the four "b's." There's the queen bee, the sister bee (friend of the queen), the hardest-working bee, and the honey bee (the sweet, unique bee that stands out in a crowd). No one wants to be the drone (the bee that chatters on and on and on about unnecessary stuff). How tiring it must always be trying to be something you're not. Sooner or later, it catches up with you.
For better or worse, that's what Hermione is doing that evening. She's entering the queen bee's hive. Well, technically, the younger witch supposes Narcissa Malfoy is the ultimate queen bee. Regardless, because Cora is Marcus's mother, she really wants to make a "bee-you-tiful" impression. Despite winning a war, having top honors in school, dating her quidditch chaser, and using that prominent Gryffindor courage, Hermione still has insecurities. And those insecurities are currently screaming for Cora Flint to accept her.
Except there's one thing wrong. That desired acceptance comes with a problem attached to it. With the Granger family home all boxed up in storage, her wardrobe options are very bare for the foreseeable future. The only clothes the organized witch took on the run were jeans, long-sleeve tees, and sweaters, which won't do for this evening. The brainy young lady knows you get only one chance to make an excellent first impression, and Hermione wants to create a lasting one. According to the time on the clock, it's only two in the afternoon. Dinner is at seven, so...
The brunette quickly sat straight up on the sofa and summoned the purse she had dumped onto the nearest chair. When it settled on her lap, her arm dug deep inside it moving around item after item. Marcus gave his girl odd looks, but she ignored them in favor of finding a particular object. The rummaging finally stopped and produced... "A-ha! I found it!" the witch squealed.
Now Hermione is not one to squeal, hardly ever, but in that instance, she did. It caused her boyfriend to lean over to her and ask, "What? What did you find?"
A frantic, nimble hand whipped out a small plastic card with the word Discover printed on it. Marcus eyed the tiny rectangular thing with curiosity. In all seriousness, he wanted to know, "So, what are you going to discover?"
That's when Hermione told him, "Clothes, Babe. I'm going to discover clothes."
In a feverish blur, the witch ran to the floo room and called Luna. With the Weasleys grieving the loss of Fred, the Gryffindor couldn't call Ginny. It would be rude and disrespectful. Plus, Hermione wants to avoid the awkwardness with Ron for as long as possible. And you never know what he's probably told his family about her rebuff of his sentiments. Molly always believes everything her baby boy says.
So, her other good friend it was. In a flash, Luna appeared. After kissing Marcus bye, leaving him bewildered, the duo flooed to The Leaky and made a mad dash to Bond Street. If the pair of gal pals can't find anything there, then it won't be for lack of trying.
The first stop was Harrods department store. Rack after rack of clothing stood before the two, with the salespeople greeting them as they passed. With beautiful store displays, cheerful sales associates, new floor inventory, and half-off sales signs, it's like the perfect shopping storm waiting for the right customer. That made Hermione's heart light because she happened to be that customer. Encouragement took charge and led the way winding its path through the store. The ideal outfit must be here somewhere! It just has to be!
While the newly envigorated witch began gazing her eyes around the displays, Luna, who's never been to an actual muggle store such as this, became fascinated with everything. It's like watching a fish being attracted to a beautiful sparkly new lure. Bait lay in every direction, and the blonde wanted to experience it all. However, there's one specific objective in mind. Pulling her friend along, Hermione explained, "We're here to find an amazing outfit for meeting Marcus's mother. After that, it's shoes, and then we can look at anything you want to."
Luna nodded in understanding, even though her head was going every which way. She did not want to miss a thing. The girls started on the first floor with womenswear. That was when Hermione made the mistake of letting go of the blonde's arm. The frazzled witch took two simple black dresses off the rack and turned to show her friend, who wasn't there. Luna in this store is like herding cats- attention span of zero. Letting out a huff of frustration, she spied the girl standing thoughtfully in front of a posh-looking mannequin. Hermione strolled over and stared at the blonde staring at it. Similar to Marcus earlier, she asked, "What are you doing?"
Luna's gaze stayed on the figure as she remarked, "Talking to this lovely lady. I told her you were searching for the perfect date outfit. You have to look nice to meet your potential mother-in-law."
Shaking her curly head, Hermione wanted to say Oh, Merlin! Only Luna would talk to a mannequin. Shifting her head to all sides and noticing the people around the area giving them odd looks, Hermione stated, "Luna, it's fake. It's a dummy used for showing off outfits and items available to purchase. They don't speak. See, I'll show you."
The Gryffindor walked up and knocked her hand on the figurine. But at that moment, something peculiar happened. The mannequin moved, which made Hermione shriek! And if she thought people had given them strange looks before, it's nothing compared to the ones they got after the yell. "That's what you think. Of all the nerve, calling me a dummy and hitting my arm! Humph!" The figure spoke in an irritated voice and then turned its form away from the girls.
Open-mouthed, Hermione stood dumbfounded. "You upset her," Luna whispered. Yes, the brunette knew that. Then her friend pointed out, "You should apologize. She was going to help you, you know."
So, in the middle of the women's floor at Harrods, Hermione Granger apologized to a mannequin- a mannequin! Never in her wildest dreams did the witch think they could talk. Before apologizing, her honey eyes scanned the area, not wanting muggles to call the insane asylum. "I'm sorry," she said with a small, embarrassed voice.
The dummy turned back to its original position. Speaking to Luna, it commented, "You're right. She is self-conscious." Then it pointed to a direction the pair still needed to browse.
It was the blonde's turn to pull her friend along. As Hermione began trying on and modeling outfits, not only did Luna give her opinion but so did all the mannequins within viewing distance. So far, everyone agreed that all the choices were duds. "Too much black," they yelled. One sophisticated dummy shouted out, "You need color." And that's how the witches found themselves in an ocean of hues and tints in every color family.
Dress after colorful dress flew off hangers onto Hermione's body. Opinion after opinion was given until, finally, approval sounded from around the department. In front of the full-length mirror, wearing an optimistic springy type dress, a dreamy expression crossed Hermione's face. She told the sales girl, "I'll take it."
The sales lady hung the pink, silk-chiffon leopard print dress in a garment bag. Once it was "discovered," the friend duo began the hunt for shoes. A pair of gorgeous zebra print heels were purchased because Hermione wants to make a bold statement. Then she bought a pair of pale lavender flower earrings with the same colored sapphire center. It's a lovely contrast to the dress.
A bright, beaming smile never left the brunette's face. She turned to Luna and exclaimed, "I love new clothes! If I could have a new outfit every day for the next year, it might ease the sting of that scar on my arm. It would for sure help me think about it less." Shopping is a better drug than pain potions or mind-calming ones. However, it's a more expensive medication.
Her words made the blonde peek at the arm in question. However, the problem is Luna didn't see the wretched word etched on it anymore. It had disappeared. "Did you conceal it?" she asked. When Hermione nodded, the Ravenclaw gave her friend a disapproving expression. So, Luna brought to the brunette's attention, "You have to accept yourself to become peaceful, you know. Clothes and concealment charms can't do that. The most significant test of courage on Earth is to be yourself without restraint. If anyone looks down on you for that horrible word, that's their problem, not yours. Plus, you have too many wrackspurts flying around your head. Quick, think happy thoughts."
Hermione knew they wouldn't be moving until she thought happy thoughts. So, with as much positivity as she could muster, happy thoughts were thunk. Then Luna told her, "There's a lot of sequins in a section I saw downstairs. Let's go there. It will drive the wrackspurts out. They hate flashy things, plus I can buy a pair of sequin pants. They'll look good on me, don't you think?"
As the two started walking again, the only response the brightest witch of her age could give was yes. Of all the girls Hermione knows, only Luna could get away with wearing a pair of sequin pants. No one would question it. In the women's wear department, Luna bought enough sequins to drive out a horde of wrackspurts for at least a year. She purchased sequin pants, skirts, shirts, shorts, dresses, and even sequin shoes.
It made Hermione giggle, but the truth is Luna is purely Luna. She's never fake and consistently original, whether it's with sequins, weird creatures no one's ever heard of, or crazy-looking glasses. Her friend has tremendous confidence and is always herself one hundred percent of the time. Trends will constantly come and go, but being confident with who you are, having originality, and having great friendships never go out of style. And maybe it took an afternoon of shopping with Luna to remind herself of that because once you truly believe in yourself and your abilities, magical things happen. Especially on the inside.
When the girls finally arrived back at the chateau, Hermione hugged Luna bye and raced up the stairs to get ready. Dotty apparated into the bedroom to help with the preparations. The exuberant elf ensured the dress had no wrinkles. Dotty also perfectly styled her missy's hair in a side-swept updo and assisted with makeup. Ginny gives good date hair and smoky eye, but Dotty creates sophisticated elegance and glamour.
Hermione couldn't believe it was herself looking back at her in the mirror. She's unrecognizable but in a good way. After looking frail and raggedy on the run, the witch seems pretty. For once in her life, she thought she belonged in Witch Weekly and not some by-line about frumpy witches.
The carved arm is the only complication with the beautiful picture she presents.
Holding said arm in front of her and looking at it with disgust, she wondered what to do. Does she cover it up or leave it alone? Dotty came to hold Hermione's free hand. The elf shook her head in remorse as she spoke. "It's a shameful awful what that nasty woman did to Missy Mione. That woman is being disgracing, but Misstress is being strong. Missy Mione is beauty here-"
Dotty pointed to Hermione's heart and followed it up with, "And here-" before motioning to her outside as well. If that wasn't enough encouragement, the elf took a folded note out of the pocket of her apron and handed it over. The short message was from Luna. It reads: Don't let anyone dull your sparkle because they're afraid of your shine. The most important thing you wear is the courage to be yourself. And by all means, don't let the horngobbles make you unhappy. The message brought tears to her caramel eyes. It was the push Hermione needed not to hide her arm but be okay with it being seen.
When she was ready to exit the room, Dotty softly pushed her out the door and onto the landing. Holding the stair railing, the witch began the descent. Marcus stood at the bottom, buttoning his pale grey dress shirt sleeves but stopped at the sound of heels. It was as if time slowed to a crawl, and for one moment, he forgot how to breathe. His witch must be the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, making his pulse race to a fever pitch.
Locking eyes with each other and sharing smiles only for them, Hermione came to stand in front of her guy. She took his right arm and finished buttoning the sleeve. Then the pretty Gryffindor did the same with the left one and helped him with his dinner jacket. It brings a satisfied smile to her face that Marcus does some things, like buttoning buttons without magic. When he was all put together, the handsome chaser took her hand and made her twirl before sweetly kissing her lips. "You look gorgeous," he mentioned.
She kissed his cheek as a thank you. While wiping the red lipstick off of it, Marcus told her, "Don't be anxious. My mother's bark is worse than her bite. If she gives you any trouble, we'll leave. That's a promise. I won't tolerate anyone bothering you, even if they're family."
With a nod, Hermione held his hand. Together they walked to the floo, took the powder, and set off for Flint Manor. The witch first realized this house was not like Ms. Cecilia's. It's much more enormous and a bit overwhelming, not to mention the chill in the air. That chilliness made Hermione reconsider having worn the sleeveless dress. "You grew up here," she asked as if trying to reassure herself that it was not some fairytale.
Marcus squeezed her hand and responded. "I did. I'll show you around after dinner. Remember not to touch any books or objects. I'm not sure what may or may not have dark magic or be cursed."
She mumbled a "sure" and continued her inspection of the floo salon. That led to an appraisal of other spaces as the couple started to proceed to the dining room. It was when they passed across a wide hallway leading from the massive staircase that a pompous house elf met them. The haughty creature gave instructions and voiced his dissent with an undertone of hostility. The couple noted he could barely stomach saying the word master without some scorn in his voice. "Mistress Cora is wanting Master-" The elf paused to look at the Flint Heir's date. His lips pursed as ugliness showed in his eyes. Then he said, "And it to go to the sitting room first."
Marcus gave the elf a stern look and a sharp dressing down with his words. "Flea, you serve the House of Flint. By which you serve the head of the house, and that is me. Hermione is not an it or a mudblood. She's the woman I love, and I expect you to treat her with respect. If you can't be respectful, polish silverware and leave the hosting to Kitten or Sugar. That's an order."
Flea narrowed his bulbous eyes, put his nose in the air, and turned on his heels. As he took them to the sitting room, he muttered "filthy mudblood" under his breath. Hermione noticed that portraits of Flint ancestors turned their backs on her. She supposes that's better than them shouting the foul name to her face. Regardless, it left her feeling unwelcome, which is a testament to the overall atmosphere inside the large house.
Pristine, fresh, squeaky-clean, unsoiled- everything about Flint Manor presents a perfect picture. It's deceitful, and the irony couldn't be more blaring with Hermione there. The witch who helped bring Voldemort down, a girl not of pure blood who's dating the lord of the estate, is a stark contrast. Knowing how Marcus's family presents a fake front to those similar influential wizarding families makes his girlfriend want to barf. Because anything that's presented as perfect usually is not. That perfection is somehow, often twisted and messed up, which the witch found as she set foot in the sitting room. Not only was Marcus's perfectly coiffed mother ensconced on the sofa, but so was one of the Goldborne Girls- the ultra-snooty queen bee, Piper Goldborne.
The girl sat there looking like she had won the crown in the Miss Universe beauty pageant. As for Cora Flint, the woman seemed utterly plastic as she wore a bright smile on her flawless face. Hermione's hand instinctively went to hold her arm, covering up the dirty word. The phrase from the Wizard of OZ came into her mind. She's definitely not in Kansas anymore. Instead, she's inside the beehive.