The New Life

Final Touches

Impatiently, I sit in my armchair, eyes trained at the bathroom door, waiting for Hermione to emerge. How much time does a woman need to pull on a freaking dress?

The doorknob turns, and I watch the way she opens the door and steps out with a smile on my face. I am a little annoyed, but mostly amused.

She opens the door just enough to peer around it, sees me sitting in the middle of the room and shuffles inside. Her head down, her face flushed and her feet bare, she carries herself as though she’s eleven and making her way up the podium to be sorted. No, scratch that, she did that with more confidence.

“Get back in there” I say. I can see she has potential in that dress, but not like that.

Her head snaps up, her honey eyes going wide as they meet mine.

“What?” she squeaks.

“Have you gone deaf?” I bite out. “Get back in there and this time walk into the room with a little more confidence. If you shuffle into a high profile ball swarming with reporters the way you just shuffled into this room, they’ll eat you alive.”

“You know what? No.” She squares her shoulders and straightens her back, regarding me with the air of defiance I didn’t even know I missed until now.

In return, my own face goes blank and I raise a single eyebrow.

“No, miss Granger?”

“No” I have this insane feeling she is only moments away from stomping her foot down on the hardwood floor.

“You’re making me do something I don’t want to do, somewhere I don’t want to be and in company I don’t like. You’re making me wear incredibly uncomfortable clothes, and what do I get in return? Nothing, that’s what!”

I frown at the look which shimmers behind her eyes. It’s the look she gets when she’s thought of something.

“I want something in return.” She states.

I am almost afraid to ask. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, it’s only fair isn’t it? I do this for you, and you do something for me. But I won’t make you wear a dress.” She’s smiling now. A sweet, innocent smile which I don’t like at all. “The question is, how badly do you need me to go with you tonight?”

Shit. She’s got me. I think she can ask for about anything right now and I’ll give it to her. If I have to go to one more of these idiotic parties, alone, and if someone tries to set me up with one more woman with no more intelligence than a flubberworm, I’m going to kill myself. And I’m fairly certain miss know-it-all’s formidable brain has figured that out. I just seem to have missed the exact point of where she did so.

I sigh heavily, and sign my own death warrant.  “Fine. Name your price.”

She smirks, a smirk worthy of any Slytherin worth their salt.

“Tomorrow, that way you can’t bail on me.”

She takes another step into the room, more confident in the dress, though walking on her toes for fear of tripping on the hem. She does a little turn and regards me, her eyes shining with mirth. I know I’m not going to like what she’s got planned, but I’ll do it. I’ll do it only because I can’t bail on Lucius again. And maybe because the prospect of dancing with the woman in front of me wearing that dress, might not be all that horrible.

“Well, come on.” She says. “Make me presentable, we haven’t got all night.”

I stand, looking her over. Immediately, I realize what Narcissa meant. The dress fits her as though it was made for her, hugging her curves and showing off exactly those parts she should be showing off. Though she’s short, she’s got beautiful long legs and the split in the dress comes up to mid-thigh, giving me, and later tonight, everyone else quite a view of one of them.

The soft green of the fabric colors beautifully with the dark grey in my robes, and from memory, I know the embroidering around her low neckline and the cuffs of the sleeves match mine. Though she won’t have the Prince crest on her dress, the coiling serpents take up a large part of the dress. The neckline comes down just enough to give a hint of cleavage, though hiding the majority of it. The sight of her hair, though a little less unruly, still sticking out everywhere, almost dry, and her bare feet peeking out from under the dress almost makes me laugh out loud. It looks ridiculous.

Sitting her down on the stool near the vanity, I get to work. For years I hated being Bella’s personal slave, but the spells she taught me do sometimes come in handy. I glamour the spots and marks of Hermione’s skin, the same marks I used to have. She’ll get used to the potion fumes, and her skin will probably settle down, but until then, a glamour it is. Like Bella, once that is done, there is barely any need for make-up. I decide to try the same charm on Hermione as I used to use on Bellatrix, and decide it works. It’s a charm to darken the natural color of the lips and eyelashes, giving the illusion of make-up.

I turn her around towards the mirror, giving Hermione her first glimpse of herself like this. She gasps, and I smirk. I’m not done yet. Conjuring up a brush, I use the only charm I know which doesn’t react to the potions in her hair to dry the last of it. Pulling the brush through her hair, I let the soft waves fall past her shoulders, and it surprises me a little how curly it truly is. Usually it falls onto her shoulders, now, almost straight, just a little wavy, it falls down to her waist. Though it hides the lace on the back of the dress, I only pin a part of it down with one of Narcissa’s haircombs, a silver comb with rubies and emeralds set in. The majority of her hair cascades down her back.

Looking into the mirror, I find two honey eyes staring at me, her mouth slightly open, as if, once again, she can’t believe her eyes. As I pick up the silver and ruby ear studs, I admit this one might call for an explanation.

“After I just joined the death eaters, the Dark Lord made me Bellatrix’ personal servant. To prove my worth. It was something she had asked for. She made me brew something to keep her hair calm, and taught me the correct glamours for her skin.”

“How long?”

“A month or so”

I have to hold her head still to keep her from turning.

“But you can’t learn this in a month.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. “You can if the alternative is torture. Bella might not have done so the first time around but the Dark Lord sure would’ve.”

“You talk about her as though she was your friend.”

I eye the necklace Narcissa brought and silently curse her. I carefully pick it up and can’t seem to keep my eyes from the slender silver necklace set with more rubies and emeralds.

“She was. Now shut up.”

I place the necklace in front of her and bend over to get the high heeled sandals to slip them on her feet.

“Do not touch the necklace.” I growl as I see her hand move towards it from the corner of my eye. “Only I touch the necklace.”

Her heels fastened, I stand up and hold out my hand. I bring her to stand in front of the full length mirror on the other side of my four poster. Then I go back for the necklace.

“What’s so special about it?”

Placing the necklace around her neck, I fasten it securely and place several charms around it to keep it in place. “None of your business”

She’s looking at me over her shoulder, and I place my hands on either side of her face to make her look at herself in the mirror. Sliding my hands down to rest on her shoulders, I smile. “Perfect”

She beams at me, and I sigh. “But stand up straight”

​A/N: thanks for reading, please review