Hermione Granger (
cleverness) wrote2014-08-26 02:00 pm
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you will see your beauty every moment that you rise
Hermione feels her chest tighten from the moment she steps into the dress shop. There are soft colors surrounding her on all sides, a mixture of white and faint pastels, in such quantities that Hermione can't even imagine how she'll ever be able to find the right dress in time. For years, she's dreamed about what her wedding day might look like, and even if Hermione doesn't have the extensive notes that others her age might, there's an excitement that thrums just under her skin as she hurries into the shop.
She's invited some of her friends to join her — anyone who has a couple hours and the patience to spare. Even though Hermione knows that the wedding will be perfect simply because of the man who will be standing at the end of the aisle, she wants all of the other details to fall in place. Having more eyes and opinions will only make her feel more secure in her skin.
"Do you know what style of dress you're looking for, dear?" the shopkeeper asks her, a sweet woman with a heart-shaped face and delicate brunette curls.
Hermione parts her lips, on the cusp of deferring to her judgment entirely, but a moment later, she nods. "I think I'd like a long dress," she admits, feeling her cheeks flush. "White, perhaps with a hint of lace."
Half an hour later, Hermione stands back up on the stool in front of the tri-panel mirror, turning around slowly and feeling the weight of the skirt.
"What about this dress?" she asks, brushing errant curls of hair out of the way as she spreads the skirt, feeling the fabric against her palm.
[ help hermione pick between dress one, two, three, four. ]
She's invited some of her friends to join her — anyone who has a couple hours and the patience to spare. Even though Hermione knows that the wedding will be perfect simply because of the man who will be standing at the end of the aisle, she wants all of the other details to fall in place. Having more eyes and opinions will only make her feel more secure in her skin.
"Do you know what style of dress you're looking for, dear?" the shopkeeper asks her, a sweet woman with a heart-shaped face and delicate brunette curls.
Hermione parts her lips, on the cusp of deferring to her judgment entirely, but a moment later, she nods. "I think I'd like a long dress," she admits, feeling her cheeks flush. "White, perhaps with a hint of lace."
Half an hour later, Hermione stands back up on the stool in front of the tri-panel mirror, turning around slowly and feeling the weight of the skirt.
"What about this dress?" she asks, brushing errant curls of hair out of the way as she spreads the skirt, feeling the fabric against her palm.
[ help hermione pick between dress one, two, three, four. ]
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"Sounds like a fine shop to me," Charlie agrees. "And you know, working with dragons and all, I've gotten quite decent at repairing charms, if there's need of that at The Lamplight."
"But you're right, of course," he grins. "You've got to find the best possible dress so that Ron forgets how to even breathe."