SALEM ᵈ ᵐᵃˡᶠᵒʸ

x. Slughorn's Party

"YOU can't be serious."

But Hermione was very much serious. She stood on the other side of the bed with crossed arms, waiting for more words to come out of my mouth. Yet I couldn't speak a sentence; much less utter out a single word, far too speechless at the dress that lay pristinely against the white sheets.

"Hermione," I started, "you can't possibly—this dress—"

"Margo," she said exasperatedly, "we're wasting time. Are you going to wear it or not?"

"Of course I am!" I said almost immediately. "It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen. Merlin, Hermione, I don't understand why you aren't wearing it for tonight."

She shrugged with a smile. "I'm not a big fan of the colour. Hurry up then, get changed, and meet me outside when you're done."

"Alright," I told her as she disappeared behind the wooden door of her dormitory.
When I arrived at the Gryffindor Common Room hours prior, Hermione was already dressed once I reached her private dormitory. Thankfully she had already told me the password for the portrait beforehand, so I didn't have to wait a while until someone exited or entered.

She didn't waste time. As soon as I sat down in front of her vanity, she began her work quickly with an idea already present in her mind. 

I looked at the dress again, feeling the fabric glide smoothly at my fingers. I wasn't exaggerating when I said it was beautiful, for it really was.

I gingerly put it on, careful not to mess with the light make-up and the hair that Hermione managed to procure for me, then looked at the full-sized mirror. It was almost hard to believe that the reflection staring back was actually me, in a satin emerald dress with an off-the-shoulder top and billowy skirt that reached my knees.

I smoothed out the skirt and smiled softly — if my mum were to see me now, she wouldn't let me leave without taking pictures first.

Grabbing my wand and shoving it into a tiny compartment within the skirt folds — thanks to magic, it had pockets — I turned away from the mirror, about to grab the usual sneakers I always wore but halted when they were no where to be seen.

I clicked my tongue. "Hermione—that sneaky witch."

I sighed, left with no choice but to buckle on a white blocked-heel sandal which only added about three inches extra to my height.

With one final look in the mirror, I left the dormitory and descended down the steps.

True to her word, Hermione was waiting just outside the portrait, looking rather flustered despite being alone. I smirked to myself, already knowing that a few people inside the common room were talking about her appearance; judging from the awed whispers I heard, they were all good.

She was wearing a pale pink dress which also stopped at to her knees, and a pretty beaded necklace that complimented the look. All in all, she looked really beautiful.

"Ron is so going to regret not going with you," I chuckled to her.

Hermione flushed a violent shade of pink but managed to pull herself together. "I told you that dress was going to suit you. You look good in green."