Narcissa looked at Hermione consideringly. 'Wait,' she said. Then she turned and left the room, reappearing a moment later with a pair of fancy silver shoes and a box. 'I thought you might want these,' she said. 'And the reception is at four.'
She left again, this time closing the door behind her. Curious, Hermione opened the box. It appeared to hold cosmetics. Odd, she thought. Most witches just used Lip-Reddening Charms and the like.
She put the box and the shoes down on the bed and started to take off her T-shirt.
Then something occurred to her. She lowered her arms slowly.
'Draco?' she said. 'Are you in here?'
There was no response, but Hermione thought she sensed a guilty sort of silence emanating from a spot near the wardrobe.
'I know you're here!' she said. 'I need to get dressed!'
'Go right ahead,' said Draco's voice, in rather muffled tones. 'I don't mind.'
'Malfoy,' she said threateningly.
'Oh, all right,' said Draco, and he suddenly appeared next to the wardrobe, holding the cloak in one hand and grinning all over his face. 'You almost-' 'I did not almost,' said Hermione. 'Now turn around and face the wall!'
Grumbling, he did it. Keeping a sharp eye on him, Hermione wiggled out of her jeans and t-shirt and into the dress. The material was very rich and heavy and doubtless expensive. It felt cold against her skin and she did up the laces and bent to strap on the shoes. Finally she straightened up and shook out her hair. 'Done,' she said.
Draco turned around. He looked utterly startled. 'Hermione,' he said. 'You look beautiful.'
'Do I?' she said, astonished.
'Go look in the mirror,' he said, gesturing towards the vanity table next to the bed.
Hermione went up to it and looked at herself. And blushed. She had never understood how girls like Lavender and Parvati could spend so much money on clothes, but now she did. Money was no object if a dress could make you look like this. The beautiful heavy fabric reflected the light like water and the deep violet shade suited her brunette coloring perfectly (although, she thought, it in no way would have suited the real Mandy Brocklehurst, who was wispily blonde.) The dress clung in all the right places and fitted so well Hermione had to wonder if it was enchanted to fit. Not that she cared. She twirled in front of the mirror and watched the skirt flare out.
'Wow,' she said.
Draco was sitting on the bed watching her. She could see him reflected in the mirror. She sat down at the vanity table, took a brush of out Narcissa's box and started running it through her hair. She could still see Draco in the mirror behind her, leaning against a bedpost.
'You should be a Beater, not a Seeker,' she said. 'You have a really good throwing arm.'
Draco snorted with laughter. 'I can't believe I hit my father in the head with a candlestick.'
'I was really glad you were there.'
'Were you?' said Draco. He was trying to sound nonchalant, but his left hand was tapping his wand anxiously against the side of his leg. 'I saw that Harry kissed you. I thought you'd be pleased….'
'He was just showing your father that he had, you know, a claim on Mandy,' said Hermione quietly.
'Didn't work, did it?' said Draco, tapping the wand faster.
'Draco…' She turned around and reached out for him.
He brushed her hand away. 'It's all right. I know he's a bastard, my father.'
She felt desperately sorry for him, but couldn't think of anything to say.
They was silent for a moment. Then he said, 'D'you think…when we get back to school…we'll be friends still, like we are now?'
'When we take the spell off you, you won't even want to be,' she said.
Draco looked unconvinced by this. 'Well, suppose I do,' he said. 'You're not under a spell. What do you think?'
'Draco, there's hardly any school left. It's June.'
Draco become deeply interested in his shoelace. 'Maybe I could come and see you over the summer, then.'
Hermione dropped her brush. 'What?'
'If you're not doing anything,' he said quickly.
'What?' she said again.
Now he looked irritated — a bit of the old Draco flashed in his eyes, Entitlement Boy as Parvati used to call him. 'Are you saying you don't want me to come?'
A sudden wild image appeared in Hermione's head, of Draco sitting at her dining room table in between her fat Aunt Matilda and her deaf Great-Uncle Stuart, both of whom had been accountants. They were trying to engage Draco in coversation about Wimbledon, and Draco, looking very out of place in long black robes and a top hat, was having none of it. Eventually he took out his wand and turned everyone at the table into toads.
The wild image passed, and Hermione said, 'Draco! You'll hate them! They're all Muggles!'
'Might be all right,' he said stiffly. 'I've got really good manners.'
