Invictus [Tom Riddle / Tomione]

Ostara

Hermione sat outside in the gardens of Dumbedore's cottage, under a lovely wooden arbor woven artfully with a thick vine of roses. Her easily-tanned skin was sun-kissed and rosy from her frequent tending to the garden. She wore a simple yellow sundress, one of the latest French designs that would become a staple fashion of the 1950s. She had always preferred the fashion of the 20s, 30s, and 40s to the styles of her own time. There was something incredibly romantic about the well-tailored garments of the era, painstakingly crafted and sewn with quality fabrics and not at all mass-produced, so for once in her life, Hermione had begun to take an interest in fashion. She had dipped into her coffers only to discover that Draco had designated hundreds of thousands of Galleons in her name. She doubted she could spend that much coin in her whole life!

So, for the sake of appearing like the well-to-do pureblood witch she was pretending to be, she'd embarked on a shopping spree of epic proportions. She bought dresses, heels, boots, silk gloves, and stylish hats. She purchased an exquisite enchanted silver filigree mirror and brush set, and full-sized bottles of Miss Dior and Nina Ricci's L'Air du Temps. Hermione invested in a small chest full of exotic French lingerie, because it made Hermione feel mature and confident. She purchased handbags, little golden compacts of makeup, tubes of red and maroon lipsticks, a knife sheath for her thigh, and an arm holster for her wand. She'd never known herself to be so indulgent, but she decided that a new identity required a new wardrobe.

In addition to all of these splurges, Madam Malkin's and Twillfit and Tattings had gifted her with an obscene amount of dress robes. She'd seen the parcels floating between no less than nine owls. The robes were the newest styles, still unreleased, and packaged beautifully in floral printed boxes with dried nightshade petals and shimmering tissue paper. They'd written her a lovely note, congratulating her on her new position at The Daily Prophet, and encouraged her to wear the styles in photo opportunities and press events. In essence, they hoped that the highly talked about daughter of the famous Albus Dumbledore would be seen wearing their latest designs.

Hermione was now a trendsetter. How bizarre .

During her latest visit to Inga Eidelburg's beauty salon, Bewitched! , she'd been informed that little girls were entering her salon in droves requesting Volumizing potions and Counterfeit Curls charms to be performed on their hair, producing Hermione Dumbledore's photos in The Daily Prophet as examples.

Her frizzy hair had now become en vogue .

How utterly ironic.

Hermione gave a wry smile as she set out the teapot, tea cups, and raspberry scones she had whipped up earlier that morning. She had cast a stasis charm on them, so they were still hot and steaming as Dumbledore apparated soundlessly into the back gardens.

It was Sunday, and she was well-prepared for tea with her surrogate father.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said politely.

"Please call me Hermione, Headmaster."

"Only if you will agree to call me Albus."

"Touché, Albus. How has your week been?"

"Quite eventful. I've been called to the Wizengamot for a trial this week. More dark wizards to deal with, I'm afraid. Followers of Grindelwald. I would ask you how your week has been, but I can see that you've been quite busy. I've enjoyed reading your very inspired writings in The Daily Prophet. "

Hermione blushed, then gave a wry smile. "I hope I'm not giving the Dumbledore name a bad reputation or causing you any problems... I know my articles are a bit shocking and progressive."