"Merlin, and they call you brightest witch of our age? We fake date."
"Are you mad? That's preposterously unbelievable!"
When Hermione was asked by her previous enemy to fake date, she thought he was insane: but maybe it could work? After all, it wa...
The holidays were passing quickly: Hermione's relationship with Draco blossoming ever further; whilst Narcissa welcomed her as if she were family. Hermione secretly hoped that one day she would be.
She was writing letters to Ron and Harry consistently of course. Their christmas seemed to be going okay, and Lavender wasn't mentioned once in Ron's scruffily written, sparse replies.
Time ticked round and it was suddenly christmas eve: the Malfoy ball was tonight. Every year, on christmas eve, they hosted a ball that lasted from 10pm to 2am, and it was rather similar to the yule ball apparently. Narcissa had bought Hermione a dress to wear and hung it up in the spare room's wardrobe, ready for her to collect later when she was getting ready.
It was only 8am now though, and she wasn't going to begin getting ready until 6pm. She wanted time for a nice, long bubble bath before she did her hair and makeup.
Draco wasn't awake yet, so she sat up and began reading Romeo and Juliet again. The memories of their passionate night in the moonlight fluttered through her brain and she smiled to herself.
"Morning, love," he said groggily, his morning voice rough as always. "Good morning," she smiled back.
He always looked so perfect in the mornings.
His hair was angelic as always; flopping dreamily over his pale skin. He looked like a living work of art. The sunlight shining through the glass door to his balcony made him look ethereal: and she loved that. She loved him in general.
He sat up slowly, pulling her into his arms. "Come on, lets go get breakfast 'mione," he smirked. They got up, still in pyjamas, and ran down the many sets of stairs to the dining room.
She read many books in the library during the day: Draco was busy last minute christmas shopping and Narcissa was preparing for their annual ball. Hermione glanced at the time, and swore to herself. It was 6pm.
She put the book back, sighing, and walked into one of the guest rooms which was set up specifically for her to get ready in. She walked into the luxurious white and gold bathroom and ran herself a hot bubble bath, and lit some candles.
Feeling relaxed at last, she got out and dried herself; getting ready to see the dress Narcissa had picked specially for her for the first time.
It was gorgeous.
The only word you could describe it with was gorgeous. It was an emerald green ballgown with matching coloured lace delicately sewn onto the bodice. The skirt was made of a satin material, and the light reflected onto it beautifully. Hermione couldn't have picked a more stunning dress herself.
She put it on carefully - and it fit like a glove. She put on the matching earrings and silver necklace that were left on the dresser for her, and then stepped gently into the black high heels.
Now just her hair and makeup to go.
She ended up doing silver eyeshadow: it was so perfectly subtle yet effortlessly beautiful. Her lips were tainted a deep red. Once she had applied blush and coated her lashes in the best mascara there was, she whispered a spell to set it into place.
Her hair was just curled in pretty ringlets and set with the same spell, and then she sprayed her rose-scented perfume and looked in the mirror. She twirled around; feeling like a princess. It was just like when she was little and would dress up in fancy dress to have a tea party with her dad, and eat cupcakes baked specially by her mum.
She missed her parents greatly: if only they could see the strong young woman she had become.
She admired her reflection for a bit, only stopping when she heard a knock at the bedroom door.
"Hermione, it's time to go down, we must be there early to greet guests with mother," Draco said gently. "One second, love," she replied as she gave herself one last quick glance in the mirror; before opening the door and going to meet Draco.
He was in a smart black tuxedo: looking ridiculously handsome, as always. His shoes were perfectly polished, and his tuxedo perfectly pressed. His platinum hair was slicked back in a way unlike it was when he was younger, but a way that accentuated his chiseled cheekbones. He smelt of citrus and forest, his breath smelling of spearmint like normal.
"Wow... you look beautiful," he said as he gazed at his lover in awe. "You don't look too bad yourself," she teased back, as she took his arm and they descended the stairs together.
Hermione's dress:
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