The Missing Link

A Purple Tissue Paper-Wrapped Parcel

Hermione soon found out the reason why Draco was being fitted. Not too long after Draco was called, Regina also told her that it was time for her fitting.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked as a magical tape began measuring her here and there in front of a ten foot tall mirror.

“The prince will be having a reintroduction to the wizarding society,” Regina replied. “As the prince’s wife and the princess, we have to make sure that you will catch as much attention as His Majesty.”

Hermione groaned. This meant more itchy, frilly, ostentatious ball gowns that she’d wear not more than once in her life. It was all so wasteful. It was the exact opposite of who she was. Not only was her patience being tried, but also the other values she’d been brought up with, such as practicality.

“It also serves as a catch-up birthday party for His Majesty,” Regina added.

Birthday party? That would require her to bring a gift. But what could he give the richest wizard in the world?

Something priceless? The voice in her head suggested. Perfect. Of course. She’d have to make something herself. Hermione became giddy with excitement of not having to buy something expensive and useless. She’s never been this exhilarated about breaking rules before. Maybe Harry and Ron had rubbed off on her a bit. She set to work as soon as she was finished with the fitting.

Three weeks later, her present was all wrapped and ready to go. Her dress had also arrived, which meant she was required to try it on to see if it needed any more alterations. The ball was only a night away.

To her pleasant surprise, she wasn’t being given a frilly ball gown to wear. Her dress robes looked quite Muggle, as a matter of fact. It was a champagne-colored mullet dress, which stopped just an inch above her knees at the front and continued in a short train at the back. It had a low back and showed a lot of skin, which she wasn’t used to. Maybe the crystal back necklace would be an adequate distraction.

For some reason, her and Draco’s old routine had slowly died, and was not revived in time for the ball. Draco was back to his old cold self, shutting himself up in his room. She didn’t like that it happened. She’d grown accustomed to knowing more and being comfortable around Draco. She found that she actually liked that side of him—the one that smiled and told stories of his childhood.

Then again, maybe the topic of his childhood was a bit too touchy. She knew that he didn’t have much of it. He’d been pulled away from his normal life by becoming a prince, and even more so when Voldemort tried to take over the world. Maybe he just wasn’t ready yet.

The party was to be held in another castle in Edinburgh. Hermione did not find this even a little surprising. Of course the royal family had palaces, castles and estates all over the country. She was even willing to bet her left arm that they had at least a piece of land or two outside the country.

As tradition dictated, she and Draco arrived at the castle first. Hermione was immediately in awe of the place. It was nothing like the castles and palaces she’d already seen, which had been a touch more modern than she’d expected. This one looked straight out of the medieval times, but it was in no way dilapidated. To her, it felt like stepping back in time itself. She suddenly felt that her dress would be out of place.

They were kept in separate rooms that led into the throne room of the castle. Of course they had to be made up first. Hermione found it hard to be comfortable in her dress, mostly because of the amount of skin she was showing. However, as usual, she had no choice but to grin and bear it.

Outside the large doors of the throne room, Hermione could hear the lively chatter of the people inside. She suddenly became nervous, having to face all of these purebloods as their princess, given the fact that she was Muggleborn.