Impossible Love

Chapter Eleven – Three Dresses

Some women had a knack of commanding the attention of any room they walked into. Constance Burke was one of them. With her signature auburn tresses slicked back into a chignon and a crisp white shirt worn over black cigarette pants, she oozed class and sophistication and looked perfectly at home in the London dress shop. Lara couldn't help feel that her dark floral skater dress had already been appraised and found wanting.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Hepworth," said Mrs Burke in a cut-glass accent as she offered a handshake to the unprepared Lara.

Fumbling her bag into her left hand, Lara shook her hand and echoed her sentiments. She could see the familial connection between mother and son.

"James has told me a few things about you," she continued. "So, in the interest of this not taking all of my day, I've already requested a few dresses to be selected that would be suitable."

Lara was stunned and a little intimidated at her abruptness. Jamie's mother's formality and coolness were a world away from the warmth of her own mother. She wished her mum could be there, if only for moral support, but she couldn't get time off work that quickly to make the journey from Manchester to London.

"Of course, thanks for taking the time to help me, Mrs Burke."

"Constance, please," she dismissed.

From behind a white curtain, a rail of divine creations appeared, accompanied by a short Gallic wizard dressed all in black with a pale pink rose boutonnière.

"Constance, my darling. It is wonderful to see you," greeted the man in a lilting French accent.

"Gaspard, dearest, I'm so thankful that you could fit us in at such dreadful short notice," Constance replied and kissed him once on each cheek. "This is Lara," she gestured. "Lara, meet Gaspard Sigaut."

Despite being a Muggle-born whose idea of high fashion stopped firmly on the high street, Lara had heard of the French designer and was surprised he had left his Parisian atelier to be here in person.

"Oh she is a beauty, non?" he exclaimed as he observed her.

Lara found it awkward enough being spoken about like she wasn't even there, but Constance's silence made it all the worse. Would it be too much to politely agree with him? Lara didn't think so, but Constance remained tight-lipped.

With a click of his fingers, a team of witches appeared and bustled Lara into a large changing room with a luxurious chaise longue and gilded mirror within. He followed bringing an emerald green silk gown with him.

As if sensing Lara's discomfort, he whispered confidentially, "Don't worry about Constance. She's like that with everyone. James is everything to her."

Lara smiled with gratitude at his kindness and hoped that was all it was. Her own mother had been protective over her when she was younger, but the separation that Hogwarts necessitated had soon put paid to that. Joy had long since stopped trying to pass judgement on Lara's choices: be it friends, clothes or boyfriends.

Slipping elegantly down her body, the first dress was incredible. High necked silk, with a cowl back and a thigh-high split, Lara knew it suited her, but there was something niggling in her mind as she admired her reflection in the mirror.

I can't wear this. It's too green, too Slytherin. Jamie would be smug until Christmas and Hestia might poison me.

Gaspard presented her with a flourish to the waiting Constance, now perched on a plush Rococo style chair with a glass of champagne in hand.

Constance frowned as she looked Lara up and down. Lara waited with bated breath for the verdict.

"James is the Slytherin; this won't do."

Feeling some of the tension ease, Lara stepped back into the changing room and was helped into a bright yellow fishtail gown with silver jewelled accents that pooled at her feet. Clumsily, Lara moved to the mirror to look at dress two. It was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. However, Lara felt like it was someone else's beautiful. The tight fishtail made walking seem unnatural as it clung to every curve, and the vivid colour seemed garish in the lights of the shop.

"Hufflepuff colours, are better?" inquired Sigaut.

Taking in the tense, fidgeting Lara, Constance knew this wasn't the one.

"You don't like it, do you?" she asked Lara, with a note of concern in her voice.

Trying desperately not to offend, she replied apologetically, "It's not that I don't like it. It's a lovely dress. It's just … it's not quite … I mean I feel…"

"I completely know what you mean," said Constance firmly. "Gaspard, stop wasting time and just put her in the lace and tulle dress."

Lara was ushered back into the changing room and stepped into the third dress. She held her arms across her chest as she was laced into the bodice. It was a true ballgown. Layer upon layer of delicate pale gold tulle created a dramatic full, floor length skirt. The top layer of tulle though was black and this was matched by a pale gold and black lace bustier with trailing garlands of black lace which softly blended with the skirt. The deep sweetheart neckline enhanced her décolletage and off-the-shoulder, capped lace sleeves with dramatic black tulle ruffle completed the look.

Lara felt transformed. This was a dress that only magic could create. It seemed to move and sway of its own accord and felt as light as air despite the layers of couture detailing. The corset-fit cinched her waist tightly and emphasised, or rather exaggerated, her curvaceous full hourglass figure. She had never worn anything quite like this.

Radiating happiness, Lara faced Jamie's mother and prepared to fight for the dress if needed. She had no idea how she would afford it, but there was no doubt in her mind that this would be the dress she wore to the Halloween Ball.

For the first time that afternoon, Constance smiled at her.

"Perfection."