The Silver Envelope

The Dress-maker and the Bride-to-be

Madame Delphine Leroux arrived at Draco's flat at precisely four o'clock the following Thursday, carrying a gigantic handbag of such a bright pink color, Draco's eyes practically watered at the sight of it. The petite woman strode into his flat with her back ramrod straight, her blonde hair pinned into a flawless chignon. She peered around, then turned to face him with pinched, red lips.
"Whaire are ze young ladies?" she demanded more than asked.
"They were supposed to be here by now," Draco said, checking his watch. "They're on their way,
I'm sure.
He'd gotten a brief note from Hermione the day before, promising that she and Ginny would be there for the fitting. To his disappointment, that was all he'd heard from her since their call the previous weekend. The one time he had been desperate enough to call her, she hadn't answered.
His stomach churned at the thought of her pulling away from him, yet again.
"Hmph,
' was all Madame Leroux said. She set her bag on the low table in his sitting room, and began to rummage through it.
Draco guessed there must have been an Undetectable Extension Charm on it, because she proceeded to pull out several bolts of fabric and a large kit of what he assumed were wedding dress materials: white silks and satins, lace and sequins, jeweled tiaras and veils. Next, she conjured a small wooden stool and a mirror that was so large, it nearly touched the ceiling. It wasn't long before his entire sitting room looked like the back room of a bridal shop. Draco stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, unsure what to do with himself.
To his relief, someone knocked at the door. He was grateful that it was Ignoma's day off simply because answering the door gave him something to do.
"Bloody hell, this is where you live, Malfoy?" Ginny said in astonishment as she walked in. His heart picked up at the sight of Hermione trailing in behind her, looking slightly amused by her friend's frank words. "Why would one person ever need so much space? I thought you lived alone."
"Come in, ladies. Make yourselves at home," he drawled sarcastically.
Hermione's eyes met his for the briefest second, and the suppressed glitter of laughter in them made his heart flutter.
Ugh.
Would he ever stop feeling like this around her?
Draco walked ahead of them to make introductions.
"Ladies, this is Madame Delphine Leroux," he said, gesturing to the stoic Frenchwoman standing in the middle of the white, sparkly mess that used to be his sitting room. "She's a world-renowned designer of formal wear, and a longtime friend of the Malfoys. Madame Leroux, this is the bride, Ginny Weasley, and her friend Hermione Granger.
Ginny went to shake the woman's hand.
"I have much work to do for ze spring collection, so we must be getting on wiz it," Madame
Leroux announced in a businesslike tone.
"This is.. more than I expected," Ginny said, looking around the room. "I thought I was going to be trying on dresses?"
Draco was a bit confused too. He wasn't sure how wedding gowns generally worked, but there didn't seem to be a single dress anywhere, only raw fabric.
"Ze gown will come when it is ready," Madame Leroux said cryptically. "First, you will tell me about your wedding. Waire is it to be?"
Ginny launched into a detailed discussion with Madame Leroux about the particulars of her big day, shoving aside several bolts of fabric to create a space for her and Hermione to sit. She talked about Harry, the tropical location of the ceremony, what kinds of food they would serve, and the many dresses she had tried on without success. Hermione chimed in occasionally, adding bits of information here and there. Not once did she look at Draco, though he could have sworn she was keenly aware of his presence by the way she nervously twisted her hands as she sat.

Soon, it became clear to him that his presence wasn't necessary. He excused himself to his office, claiming that he had some correspondence to finish while they talked. It was a lie; he had very little left to do after spending the entire week trying to distract himself from thoughts of Hermione by throwing himself into his work. Just for something to do, he pulled out the ledgers he used to keep track of his experiments, and began to look over them.
He kept himself holed away in his office, pretending to work while really listening to the muffled voices coming from his living room. As far as he could tell, the ladies were discussing the advantages of cream verses white and satin verses chiffon. He had zero interest in the content of their conversation, but still felt a tiny whoosh of nerves every time he identified Hermione's voice among the speakers
Perhaps he would find a way to lure her into his office while the other two ladies were busy. He badly wanted to be alone with her, if only just to ask her if she was alright. Their last conversation had been unexpectedly intense, in more than one way, and he was worried that he had frightened
ner away again
Draco wondered if she wanted an apology from him. He couldn't bring himself to regret one bit of what he'd said on the phone the other day. He'd been careful to give her a choice. This time, it was not his fault.
Still, he mused, his mood becoming ever cloudier, he had told her that she would set the terms.
Maybe she had taken him up on his offer to make him her plaything.
Cold, cynical frustration had fully washed over him by the time he heard someone call his name from the sitting room. He sighed, attempting to breathe out all his moodiness before he left his
ottice
They had begun packing up, slowly returning his sitting room to its original appearance. Both Hermione and Ginny looked cheerful and excited. Draco noticed two garment bags draped across the back of his sofa containing, he assumed, their dresses for the wedding. His eyes lingered on the bags for a moment, his mood lowering even further. He had been hoping to catch a glimpse of Hermione trying hers on, since he wouldn't be attending the wedding. Frustrated with his pathetic
thoughts, he forced himself to look away from her.
Madame Leroux sharply kissed the air at each of his cheeks, made him promise that his mother would attend her next show in Paris, and bid them all farewell, her huge, pink handbag weighing down her arm as she strode out of his flat.
"Thank you so much for this, Malfoy," Ginny gushed. "You really didn't have to do this."
"Er, no problem," he said, feeling as awkward as ever under her beaming gaze. "I wanted to help."
"You wanted to help Hermione," Ginny corrected, glancing back at her friend, who still wasn't meeting his eyes. "It's good to know that you really care about her. For a while, we thought you were only hanging around her to fuck with Ron. Not that he doesn't deserve it."
"I think it's time to go, Gin," Hermione said, looking very pink.
Ginny winked at Draco, then turned to scoop up her new dress.
"Harry's not going to be happy with the bill for this one," Ginny joked as she and Hermione made
their way to the door.
"I think he'll soften up when he sees the results," Hermione said.
When they had gone, Draco felt drowned by the sudden silence of his empty flat. He heaved a sigh and collapsed on his sofa, allowing his frustration to consume him once more.
But his pity-party didn't last long. It was soon interrupted by a knock at his door.
Draco sat up, heart racing. Had Hermione come back to talk with him after all?
He straightened his shirt as he went to answer his door.
To his surprise, it was not Hermione who stood on the other side of his door, but Ginny.
"We need to talk," she said sharply, not waiting for him to invite her back in before striding straight past him.
He looked out the door again, wondering where Hermione was.

"She's gone," Ginny said, knowing who he was looking for. "She had to get back to work. I let her think I was leaving too, then turned back once she had gone."
"What do you need?" Draco asked, feeling wary as he shut the door.
Ginny, with her long red hair and self-assured personality, dominated his sitting room like some kind of Viking warrior reborn. He liked her, but that didn't mean that he trusted her. Cautiously, he sat himself on the armrest of the opposite end of the sofa where she sat.
*What do you want with Hermione?" Ginny boldly asked.
Draco sucked at the inside of his cheek, considering.
"I want.. whatever she wants," he said finally.
"Don't try to slither your way out of talking to me, Malfoy. It won't work. I need to know what's going on between you and Hermione," she said.
"Why?" he sneered, feeling defensive.
Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Because I care about her, you nitwit. She's my best friend, and she's going through a rough time."
Draco believed her, but he didn't much feel like divulging the details of his budding feelings for Hermione to her friend, especially not behind her back.
"You said yourself that I care about her," he pointed out.
"But why do you care about her? What do you want with her?" Ginny asked, her words cutting through his protective veneer like a blunt axe.
"I don't know why," he admitted. "I just...do."
Ginny's chin lifted at this, and she assessed him once more. Her eyes seemed to see through him, and he suddenly had the uncomfortable sense that she was trained in Legilimency. Surreptitiously, he checked that his mind was fortified against intrusion.
She finished her examination, seeming to decide that she was satisfied with what she saw.
Taking a deep breath, she confessed, "I think my brother is going to try to get her back. Starting at my wedding."
Icy wrath burst from somewhere deep inside Draco, spreading to the tips of his fingers with crackling energy. He kept his hand away from his wand; any manner of dark magic might have accidentally erupted from it at his touch. He swallowed, attempting to tamper his voice into a tone of light derision.
"He can try, but Hermione isn't daft enough to let him," he said.
"Hermione has a blind spot where Ron is concerned," Ginny said. "My brother doesn't deserve her
-never has. But no matter how many times they fight, he's always been able to count on her forgiveness. Harry and I are constantly caught between them, so we would know."
"Why did you bring him to apologize to her at Hogsmeade then?" Draco asked, his tone somewhat
harsh.
"Because even though I don't want them to get back together, I need to make sure that they don't blow my wedding venue to pieces before we serve the cake!" she snapped. "And because it's in Hermione's best interest to be on good terms with Ron while they're in public. You can bet that Harry Potter's wedding is going to be highly watched and publicized," Ginny said darkly. "Ron Harry's best mate and he's my brother. Our whole family is going to be there, and every one of them knows what happened between him and Hermione. All eyes are going to be watching them especially her, thanks to Johanna. If anything happens between them, it'll only reflect badly on
her.
Draco kept silent, knowing she was right. It was an echo of what Hermione had said on Christmas, and again on Boxing Day.
I'm a fucking woman, she had said. Hermione was smart enough to know how people would see her if she was cold to Weasley in public.
Ginny went on.

Draco kept silent, knowing she was right. It was an echo of what Hermione had said on Christmas, and again on Boxing Day.
I'm a fucking woman, she had said. Hermione was smart enough to know how people would see her if she was cold to Weasley in public.
Ginny went on.
"Plus, ever since she left Ron, she's had no one. At least, no one who's not connected to Ron as much as they are to her. Even I'm stuck in the middle. Except for you. You are the only person in her life who's completely in her corner."
Draco swallowed, feeling a bit sick. Hermione hadn't told him that, but he could see how true it was. He hated the thought of it: her alone and stuck between forgiving someone who had hurt her so badly or losing the majority of her friends and family to him. It wasn't right, but there wasn't much anyone could do to prevent it.
"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked.
Ginny lifted her chin again, a sly smile taking shape on her face.
"Because," she said, her eyes bright with mischief, "I have a plan. And you're going to help me."