His Princess || Draco Malfoy

Chapter 4

I spent the rest of the day talking to Draco. Surprisingly enough, his presence was tolerable. Enjoyable, even. Still, I was relieved when his parents called him to leave. It was easier to pretend he wasn't my fiancé if he wasn't sitting on my bed. I went downstairs with him. I figured my parents had heard of my little escape earlier and would want to yell at me. I stood by my parents as the Malfoys said their goodbyes and disappeared out the front door. 

Surprisingly enough, they didn't say anything about it. Nothing about my grubby clothes. Nothing about the grass in my hair. Nothing about the dirt on my face. Strange. Maybe I imagined the whole thing. They didn't say much of anything. They just sat there speaking to each other in hushed tones, the usual sour looks plastered on their faces. 

Granted, I didn't make much of an effort to talk to them. They might have said something if I had done anything but mumbled something about going back upstairs. Once I got to the top, I locked myself in my bathroom. I studied myself in the mirror, the lights seemingly highlighting the dirt on my face and the grass in my hair, but I wasn't looking at that. I looked myself dead in the eyes, identical icy eyes staring back at me. I couldn't imagine how I was going to get out of this. It didn't seem like I could. I sighed. Baby steps. For now, I'd wash up and pretend the events of the afternoon hadn't happened. 

Not much happened the rest of the day. Sitting in my room, I half expected Malfoy to come knocking again. I was glad he didn't. 

I slept surprisingly well that night. No weird dreams this time. 

I was woken up by my mother the next morning. I groaned as she shook me awake.

"Y/N, get up. You have to try on your wedding dress." 

That got my attention. I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes. I didn't want to get married, but some part of me was curious as to what the dress looked like. 

"I'll be waiting for you downstairs. Don't try to pull another stunt like you did yesterday. Your father enchanted the windows." She said, her voice laced with poison as she left my room.

Dammit. Of course they were going to do something like that. Serves me right for being so stupid. 

I didn't bother checking the windows. My mother was a lot of things, but she was not a liar. I splashed my face with water, shaking the last bit of sleep out. I threw on an oversized hoodie and leggings. The outfit always made my parents mad. They said clothes like these were only fit for "filthy muggles". I didn't usually wear them around my parents. Whatever. I didn't care much anymore. I threw my hair up into my usual messy bun and made my way downstairs. 

My mother was waiting, just as she said she would. Her face soured when she laid eyes on me. 

"You're really going to wear that?" She said, her thin lips pursing in disgust as she looked me up and down.

"What's wrong with it?"

"What's wrong with-," she sighed. She checked her watch. "There's no time for you to change. We need to leave." 

She eyed me with contempt as we made our way out the door. We walked silently for a time.

"I don't understand why you insist on wearing those clothes," she said, breaking the silence when we were a ways down the path. "You're representing the family. You should dress like it."

"I don't understand why you hate my clothes so much," I replied, my voice dripping with bitterness.

"Watch your tone," she snapped. "It is beneath us to wear such horrible things. You have so many beautiful clothes, why you decided to put on those awful muggle clothes is beyond me. And don't get me started on your hair. It looks like a rat's nest."

"They're more comfortable."

"Some things are more important than comfort, Y/N."

Of course she'd say that. She was the one forcing me to marry Malfoy. 

We arrived at the bridal shop after a few minutes. I took a deep breath as I stepped in. The shop was ornately decorated, with silver chandeliers and floating candles on the ceiling and white dresses lining the walls. My mother walked over and said something to the receptionist. The receptionist nodded and disappeared into the back. I didn't hear what she said, I was too busy marveling at the shop's interior. The receptionist came back a few moments later, reappearing with a black garment back. My mother took it from her, and she led us back to the dressing rooms. My eyes were now fixed on the bag, praying that whatever was inside wasn't too ugly. They ushered me into one of the rooms, handing the bag off to me.

"Make sure to come show us when you're done." My mother called out from the other side of the door.

I hung the bag on one of the hooks along the wall. I stared at the bag for a while, wondering what would be waiting for me once I unzipped it. 

Deciding to just get it over with, I took the zipper in one hand, holding the hanger in the other. I took a deep breath, and unzipped it.

It was not what I was expecting.

It was black. 

I took it out of the bag to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. It was the most beautiful dress I've ever seen. Black lace covered the entirety of the dress. I ran my fingers over it, in awe of the thing before me. I had always wanted a black wedding dress. White seemed too traditional. I never imagined that my dream dress would be the one picked for me.

As I put it on, it was hard not to feel a little giddy. It fit me perfectly, hugging my figure and highlighting my curves. It was perfectly straddling the line between revealing and modest. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a little excited seeing myself in the mirror before remembering why I was here in the first place.

Right. Malfoy.

I opened the door of the changing room. My mother sat upright on a couch in the waiting area. She didn't smile when she saw me. She showed no emotion at all. She just looked me over and nodded. 

"Spin." I obeyed.

She turned back to the receptionist. 

"Do you see anything that needs to be altered?"

The receptionist circled me intently. After an uncomfortably long time, she returned to my mother's side. 

"It looks perfect to me, ma'am."

That was it. That was the end. My mother didn't ask for my input or anything, she just decided it was perfect. A wedding dress for a wedding I didn't want. I suppose if she had asked, I wouldn't have had any complaints about the dress. I really did love the dress.

We took it home with us when we left. My mother took it from me, most likely afraid I'd tear it to shreds to try to stop the wedding. I might have. Not that it would have done me any good. If I did, they'd just restore it magically.

I went straight to my room when we got back home. I sat in bed for most of the day, trying to come up with any plan to get out of this wedding. This was all getting too real for my liking.