"Just turn a bit. . . there," said the gray haired seamstress, a few pins floating in the air about her hair and moving at the wave of her hand. Astoria obeyed, shuffling on the pouf she stood on, trying to keep her balance so those pins didn't spear her in a fall.
The seamstress took a step back, hand to her chin, her head listed. She hummed as she inspected her work, and abruptly snapped from her aloofness to ask Mrs. Greengrass, "Well, what do you think?"
Astoria shuffled around again, her arms outstretched from her sides so as to not wrinkle the delicate satin.
Her mother, sitting beside Daphne on the couch in the sitting room, put a finger to her lips, her eyes narrowing. Daphne gave her Mother an apprehensive side glance, and once Mrs. Greengrass received it, said, "Take in her skirt a little, so it's less poofy, and bring the neckline up a bit."
In the most respectful tone possible, the seamstress said, "Mrs. Greengrass, are you sure? The neckline is already rather conservative, considering the cut and style it is, and I've already slimmed the skirt down twice. . . ."
"Yes. I'm sure," she responded curtly.
Biting her lip, the seamstress obliged, and with two separate wand waves, the order had been fulfilled.
"Okay. . ." She muttered, then, "Accio." The floor length mirror she'd brought down from Daphne's room earlier scooted itself along the carpet and sat down before Astoria.
"How do you like it?" she asked, smiling proudly.
Astoria was standing in white satin gown, the bodice fitted and flaring into a (now far less) belled out skirt. Adorning the dress were black swirls, traipsing up the skirt, less concentrated as it reached about the waistline. It was beautiful, and she was surprised Mother and Daphne were allowing her to wear such a dress.
Anything that would draw attention was to be avoided. Anything that could make her stand out, or look desirable in any way, was avoided.
"It's lovely," she said, smiling at the woman, who'd had to put up with the ample amount of demands for more glitz, more flounce, and more volume on Daph's dress.
As her mother doled out galleons for the woman, she stood, eyeing the mirror, her dislike for the dress ever growing.
It wasn't the dress's fault, only the occasion she would wear it to.
Not only a pureblood party -- which were hosted at least once a weekend, an occasion for the families to get together and bask in each other's privilege. No, a Christmas ball. Because, prancing about with death eaters and blood purists alike was everyone's idea of a pleasurable holiday.
She grit her teeth at the thought, her stomach dropping with impending dread.
YOU ARE READING
Light in the Darkness
Fanfiction"She could always help me find light in the darkness." -- Draco Malfoy |Drastoria| "They weren't thinking of the broken, fractured world they were living in. In that moment, they had each other, and that was enough." The world is shattered, reali...
