𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥 | DRACO MALFOY

silk ties

Harper Riddle

"I still don't understand why we can't just summon the dress," I muttered, trailing my fingers along the edge of a velvet chaise. "We use magic for everything else."

"Because," Narcissa said coolly, "tradition matters. Even now."

Especially now. She didn't say it, but I heard the weight behind the words anyway.

Pansy chuckled in disbelief. "Harp, I can't believe you're getting married in a week. Like you're gonna be a wife."

The fitting room at Madame Élodie's Enchanted Bridal Atelier smelled like roses and old spellbooks. The silencing charm on the walls was thick enough to muffle the sounds of war just outside our world. In here, we were three women surrounded by lace, silk, mirrors, and lies.

Pansy flopped dramatically into the armchair across from me, her boots kicked up on a stack of pristine lookbooks.

"Well, I think it's adorable that you're in an arranged marriage," she said, flipping through a rack of gowns with one hand. "So romantic."

I shot her a teasing look. "You're just jealous you didn't get picked."

Pansy smirked. "Please. I have standards."

Narcissa gave us both a warning glance that somehow managed to say not here, not now, not ever.

I stood and walked slowly to the rack of gowns Madame Élodie had spelled to float mid-air, swirling gently like ghosts. White. Ivory. Bone. One even shimmered silver, as if dipped in starlight. Every dress looked like it belonged to someone else.

"Do you like any of them?" Narcissa asked softly behind me.

"No," I said honestly.

But I reached for one anyway—a lace long-sleeved gown with a subtle serpent embroidered into the hem, visible only when the light hit it a certain way. Voldemort would love that. I hated that I knew it.

"I think this one suits you," Narcissa said. "Elegant. Controlled."

"I'm not sure I want to be either of those things," I replied.

Her lips twitched, just barely. "Want and need are rarely the same, Harper."

Pansy snorted. "Someone write that on a tombstone."

I tried the dress on. The mirror shimmered. The gown hugged my ribs too tightly, but when I stepped out, the room fell quiet.

Even Pansy didn't have a snarky comment.

"That's the one," Narcissa said, rising to her feet. There was something sad in her voice. Like she was seeing a version of me she didn't want to admit existed. Or maybe she was seeing herself, years ago, making a similar choice.

"I look like I'm about to be sacrificed," I said.

"You are," Pansy said lightly. "But you'll look stunning doing it."

I stared at myself in the mirror. The Harper I saw looked regal. Untouchable. Like she belonged on a throne—or a battlefield. But her eyes...

Her eyes were scared.

I blinked. Straightened my spine.

Fine.

Let them crown me in silk and bind me in blood.

But I would walk to that altar with my head high.

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