Chapter 19

Narcissa and Hermione trekked up the stairs to the room she was sharing with Ginny, and pulled out the second trunk she had brought with her from Malfoy Manor. An extension charm had been placed on the trunk, so Hermione dreaded just how many dresses they were going to have to sift through.

Silks, taffetas, crepes, chiffons and velvets in all colours drifted past Hermione as Narcissa began her search. On the bed was an ever growing no pile that was starting to reach Hermione's shoulder. Narcissa was muttering to herself as she searched, eventually huffing, rolling her sleeves up and digging through the trunk by hand, heaving armfuls of dresses onto the floor.

'Here it is.' She declared to Hermione, beaming with pride. She held up a black, heavily beaded dress weaved in lace embroidery. 'The classic ball gown shape, a cathedral train, off the shoulder bishop sleeves. I wore this to an event decades ago while in half-morning for my paternal grandfather. It was my coming out, newly turned seventeen and I was required to make a statement. We'd placed an enchantment on the dress that made it shift between deep blues and purples. It glittered like the night sky. That enchantment has long worn off and I doubt anyone will recognise it. For our purposes it will make you look not only regal but deathly serious about your claim. I've always found black to be the colour of business and we are engaging in business most serious.'

Hermione's eyes went wide as she took in the sheer amount of fabric Narcissa was holding up. 'I'll have to take your word for it.'

Narcissa smiled and continued pulling black fabric out of the trunk. 'Bodice, petticoat, underskirt.' She spoke as she laid piece after piece in Hermione's arms. 'Have you worn a dress like this before?'

'No.' Hermione shook her head.

'Well, you've got until we finish your hair and makeup to get used to the idea.' Narcissa frowned, placing her hands on her hips. In a snap all of the other dresses flooded back into the chest. The dress layers were laid out across the bed in order. 'To begin, you need to strip down to your underthings.'

'Why can't I keep them on?' Hermione asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

'Because taking off tight clothing will mess up your hair.' Narcissa opened the bedroom door and flicked her wand, a dressing gown flew into her hands. 'You can wear this if it makes you feel better.'

'It does.' Hermione let out a sigh of relief and took the dressing gown into her hands. 'Are you going to watch?'

'I'm going to be dressing you Hermione, I will be seeing everything.' Narcissa spoke. 'But I will go get us a chair while you change.'

Hermione changed, questioning just what it was that she'd gotten herself into.

Narcissa returned with a chair and placed it in the most open area of the room, which was still rather cramped, and stood behind it. 'Come take a seat and relax for a while, you don't need to do anything yet.'

Hermione took a deep breath and sat down. Narcissa began running her hands through Hermione's hair, only snagging occasionally on some tangles. It reminded Hermione of her mother, her adoptive mother. She'd gone through a phase of being scared of her hairbrush when she was six and her mother had, instead of insisting she use it, spent half an hour every morning finger combing her hair. For those few months until she felt brave enough to try the hairbrush again, she spent every morning before school sat in a dining chair, just like she was now, with her mother brushing her hair. A tear ran down Hermione's cheek as a wave of calm flooded over her. Calm and guilt.

'Why have you been so kind to me Narcissa?' Hermione asked, wiping the tear from her face. 'You've done more than simply allow me to use your library. Draco is helping because he's guilty. Harry is helping because he always does. Daphne's helping because she's curious. Pansy is helping in the hope that I have a necklace she takes a liking to. What are your motivations?'

Narcissa sighed and stilled her hands for a moment, before continuing to finger brush Hermione's hair. 'At first, I thought my son was motivated by love, so I sent him the rituals so he could help his beloved. Then I met you, and you were both adamant that love had nothing to do with it, so I had to work out for myself why my son was helping you. Our family has not been kind to you. We raised Draco to despise muggleborns and he did so diligently, for a time. His hatred of you and your friends I think continued on beyond his disillusionment with blood purity because you were directly opposed. Harry and Draco both occupy the same position in Quidditch. Draco and Ronald are two extremes of what a pureblood upbringing can be. You and he are constantly fighting for the better grade, to be able to stand before the other and declare that you were in fact the superior mind.

'You three are, or at least were, representative of all avenues magic could come from. A pureblood, a halfblood and a muggleborn. Everything we taught him, and everything we were taught, was that such a group could only fail. You would be inferior in every way, lacking money, status and a proper upbringing. But time and time again, you have proven that your differences make you stronger, that being born in the muggle world only shapes you to work harder, that a direct connection to both worlds simply makes you love each of them more, that not even being entrenched in the magical world can make you inherently more proficient.

'I cannot speak to your rivalry, nor every interaction you've had with my son, because I do not know them. But I do know that when he came home for the summer a few years ago, he started having the house elves teach him to cook. He took an interest in reading more broadly, though not muggle books. I can't think of a single instance where a fourteen year old boy would need to know how to whip stitch, but he read the book anyway. You three, even in your shared disdain of my son, managed to still teach him about the strength in our world, about the depth that could be found there, and he went out looking for it.

'I do not think my son is helping you because he is guilty. I do not think my son is helping you altruistically either. I believe he is helping you because he saw in you, even if only in part, the potential for the magical world to flourish into something brighter.'

'You didn't answer for yourself.' Hermione pointed out.

'I chose to help you, because I have seen the change that you and your friends made in my son.' Narcissa smiled. ' I have continued to help you, because of the change you have made in me.'

'Do you want the same for your husband?' Hermione asked. 'Would you want him to see the depth in the world that Draco saw?'

'One day. When he has the luxury of choice again.'

'He chose the path he was on, he could choose now to take a different one.' Hermione frowned.

'That may have been so before the Dark Lord returned, but now his only choices are life and death, and I would rather he live, no matter what he has to do.' Narcissa answered. 'When the war is over, when he sees the consequences of his past mistakes, I will reach out my hand to him and ask him to come home.'

'It's admirable.' Hermione spoke. 'To love him so deeply still, despite his past.'

'My past is coloured in much the same way, Hermione.' Narcissa laid her hands on Hermione's shoulders. 'My consequences will come too, and once I have faced them, I will wear them like a badge of honour. As proof that those dark days in our past are over and done.'

'You're not in them anymore.' Hermione reassured her. 'The days may not be bright, but darkness won't be able to consume you anymore.'

Narcissa didn't respond, though a small unseen smile passed her lips. She began weaving Hermione's hair into a large loose braid, leaving portions of hair unbraided at the front. She twisted the braid into a large bun at the back of her neck. She took the loose hair and twisted them into coils, wrapping them around the bun. Once pinned in place, Hermione's hair was nestled neatly out of the way of her face and shoulders. Narcissa took a moment to take in her work before opening up a box she had brought with her.

Contained inside was a collection of jewellery shaped like peacocks and their feathers. There were several hair pins made to look like peacock feathers, along with a set of earrings, a necklace and a bracelet all of similar make and design. But in the centre of the box was an aigrette, though it did not include feathers, in the shape of a peacock. Its plume of feathers was stretched long to be able to wrap around the head, or in Narcissa's intent, Hermione's hair. Narcissa carefully wrapped and pinned the aigrette around Hermione's bun, placing several of the hair pins through the bun to imitate a tiara-like shape. She left the rest of the jewels in the box, for after Hermione was dressed.

Narcissa handed Hermione a mirror.

'Wow.' Hermione breathed, taking in how calm her hair looked. 'What spells did you use?'

'No spells.' Narcissa shook her head. 'My sisters just have similar hair. The trick is to touch it with as few tools as possible.'

'Thank you.' Hermione smiled, locking eyes with Narcissa through the mirror. 'Truly. For everything.'

Narcissa smiled warmly at her before taking the mirror away and moving around to the front of the chair. 'Makeup next. The current fashionable look is gently coloured cheeks and lips. Minimalism is key here.'

'I appreciate following societal norms, but I'd rather look authoritative than demure.' Hermione smiled awkwardly.

'Very well then.'

Narcissa got to work, though she didn't have too many materials to work with. She had some powders and pigments, though not nearly the breadth she would have liked for such an event. What she did have, was a single non-neutral lipstick. A deep red that reminded her of pictures of her mother from the late 1940s. First, she painted over several small spots on Hermione's skin and deepened the hollow of her cheeks. She painted Hermione's lips with the red and dabbed her finger into the tube, smudging the same red across her eyelid and under her eye. Finally, she took a brush and swiped a black pigment across her lash line and a little under the lower waterline. It was a simple procedure, given the limited supplies and tools, but the colour was enough to take Hermione from a sixteen year old, to that of an imperious monarch.

'You look perfect.' She declared, helping Hermione stand from the chair. 'So let's try not to smudge anything while we dress you.'

Hermione sighed, moving the chair into the corner of the room, as successfully out of the way as possible.

Narcissa clapped her hands together. 'Alright then, this will take a lot of explaining and a lot longer than I thought so you'll have to do what I say as I say it without the usual questions.'

'I have to undress now don't I?' Hermione frowned.

'Yes.' Narcissa lifted each layer from the bed and helped Hermione put it on, explaining each layer as she went.

'Shoes first. To start with the dress, underlayers. First, a shift. To protect your skin from the corset and to protect the corset from the oils on your skin. Second, the corset. Although there are a considerable amount of cushioning charms upon it, this corset will not fit you properly and it will begin to chafe. My frame is a lot slimmer and straighter than yours so prolonged wear is not recommended. Next the crinoline, this is going to form the shape of the gown and a petticoat to separate the crinoline from the skirt layers. You're getting some extra petticoats charmed black to hopefully lift the skirt off of the floor given the height difference.

'Overlayers. Block colour underskirt, hem ruffled to give the illusion of more skirt layers. Your first skirt is tulle, lots of depth and volume, ruffled again. There's four layers of tulle in this skirt. Skirt two, tulle again, multiple layers again. Skirt three, five layers of silk organza. The top layer is just the silk organza, the beading and lace is all on the layer underneath. The cathedral train is just on the top two layers of fabric. Then finally the bodice. This is a corset back but we won't be tightening at all, just enough to hold the bodice smooth. There are some dress hooks along the bottom for you to hook to the skirt. The sleeves need to sit loose off of your shoulder but you need to button the cuffs tightly around your wrist.'

Hermione sighed. 'That is an incredible amount of work for a dress.'

'We're not done yet.' Narcissa smiled. She once again returned to the jewellery box and pulled out several items, a necklace, two bracelets, a ring and a pair of earrings. She helped Hermione put them on.

Narcissa took a step back, admiring her hard work. 'It's a little funeral chic but you will command the room nevertheless.'

'I don't think I'm ready for all of this.' Hermione sighed.

'The world rarely has good timing.' Narcissa shook her head. 'But despite all of that, those who persevere anyway, there's usually a reward for them at the end. Even if it is just time to rest.'

Hermione let out a deep sigh, closing her eyes for a few seconds.

'It's time to go my dear.' Narcissa spoke, pulling Hermione out of her silence.

'I suppose it is.'