The Royal Treatment
Just a Penniless Writer
Standard Disclaimer Applies
Part 2.
"I believe lavender is the color. No?"
The clerk adopted a thinking pose before agreeing resolutely.
"Yes, Madam. All of our styles are available in this hue."
"Yes, yes, I am aware. Now, I want you to retrieve five different styles of robes in lavender. Three of them need to be varying lengths of dimensions of simplicity – straight lines and a high waist to draw attention to her lacking bust. You do have something to improve that, do you not?"
"Yes, Madam."
"Good. Bring that as well. The fourth set of robes needs to be partially embellished – lace on the edges or a slight pattern in the material. The fifth needs to be the most embellished robes available. Do you understand? Good. Bring everything to the dressing room."
Hermione simply stared at her shopping companion with a mix of horror and awe. This expression was becoming quite common, she thought idly. Still, the idea of being a dress-up doll for Narcissa was a bit disconcerting. She half believed that the woman had been looking forward to this process since they had first come across one another. It wouldn't surprise her if it was true.
Three hours and eighteen robe fittings later, Narcissa seemed pleased with the results. Purchasing four of the highest quality robes in varying shades of lavender and blue, the woman then led Hermione onward to shoes. The process here was similar, until two hours later the young healer was ready kill someone if only to escape. She had not left early from St. Mungo's only to become a playtoy.
Luckily, Fate was with her. Ginny Weasley happened upon the scene, obviously surprised to find the former Mrs. Malfoy dictating to an overworked clerk exactly what shoes she wanted while Hermione looked on with sympathy.
"Hermione? What in Merlin's name are you doing shopping? Shouldn't you still be at work?"
Before she had a chance to respond, Narcissa did so on her behalf.
"Miss Granger is preparing for a visit to the spa tomorrow."
Ginny just stared for a beat before responding, "Oh, well that makes perfect sense then."
There was an awkward moment during which Hermione simply looked at her friend blankly, not quite understanding how everything was colliding in such a manner.
"But," Ginny began with confusion. "Why are you going to the spa?"
Once again, Narcissa saved her the trouble of inventing a reply.
"At my request," the aristocrat said as her nose steadily made its way into her traditional 'you art lower than I' position. "The Women's League is considering her to head our new Witch Health Committee."
"Oh. Wow. Good luck Hermione. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself."
Hermione only cringed at the thought of a Weasley wishing her luck in what amounted to the wooing of a Malfoy. If Ginny ever discovered the true reason… well, it would doubtless be a bigger disaster than her breakup with Ron. The Almighty Wrath of Molly Weasley was nothing to scoff at.
"And Hermione… if you are going to get those shoes, you should probably wait to wear them until after a pedicure."
And with that simple piece of advice, Narcissa's face lit up with happy surprise and any feud that may have existed between her and the Weasleys was forgotten. For now.
The spa was possibly the cleanest and snootiest place Hermione had ever visited, which was saying much considering she had visited the en suite bath in the Minister's offices. Every step she took was greeted with smiles from the staff, who she just knew were scowling once they were safely out of her field of vision. That she was accompanying Narcissa Black only made her welcome all the more indulgent.
Their luggage was immediately whisked off to their room while Hermione and Narcissa were escorted into a back room to begin their morning with a hand massage, specifically requested by Narcissa. Hermione had never partaken of a hand massage and was a bit skeptical of its practicality. As well, as her nails were uneven and calluses lined her fingers where she typically held her quill, she was not looking forward to casual remarks regarding her lack of finesse.
She'd never thought to be envious of her patron's smooth hands until now.
Forty-five minutes later, Hermione could say nothing but compliments for the spa staff. She had never realized exactly how tense her hands usually were.
It was in this relaxed mood and on the way to the next attraction --a snack involving spinach and goat cheese before a thorough mud bath-- that she heard Narcissa gasp dramatically and pull her behind a potted plant.
"If only we had thought to do something with your hair first…" the woman stated while pulling the bushy pile back into a knot at the base of her neck. She nodded slightly as she stepped back to examine the effect. "That will simply have to do. Now, be a dear and do remember you are my guest."
And with that warning, she stepped majestically away from their cover, pulling Hermione with her, towards a blond man who could only be her target.
"Lucius, my dear, how wonderful to see you here!"
The man turned around and was indeed Lucius Malfoy. Hermione couldn't say he looked particularly depressed at all, certainly not to the extent that Narcissa had stated, but then she acknowledged that she had really only known him well enough to hate him. His state of health, then or now, had never been a subject of concern for her. For that, she could only be glad; she imagined worrying over a man such as Lucius Malfoy had to be particularly stressing.
"Narcissa, lovely as always. And your guest…"
"Oh, Lucius, you remember Miss Hermione Granger."
Lucius sent a sharp look to Narcissa at that statement, but remained otherwise pleasant.
"Miss Granger, how pleasant to see you once more. I understand you are now a department head at St. Mungo's?"
"Yes, Spell Damage. I enjoy it immensely."
"I suppose you would," he stated quietly with a slight turn of his lips.
Hermione felt uncomfortably insulted and was about to comment when Narcissa stepped in.
"Yes, the Women's League is particularly pleased with Hermione's accomplishments. We're considering her to head our new committee on Witch Health."
"Isn't that marvelous," he stated with a strained expression. "Now, I believe I will be late for my appointment with Beatrice. Good day, Narcissa, Miss Granger."
When he walked away, Hermione let out a relieved sigh before Narcissa sent her a quelling look.
"He knows what I mean to do, or suspects at the very least. That will make this more difficult without your prudery," she said snappishly before striding off once again towards their next appointment.
Hermione could only swallow her anger with some trouble before following after her with a bit more gusto than perhaps was necessary.
She thought sourly that she might need quite a few more hand massages to survive the weekend.
Immediately after a strangely relaxing and yet terribly ironic mud bath, Narcissa managed to secure them hair appointments. Though usually hair would be saved for last, in order to not let later spa treatments ruin the style, Narcissa felt it particularly necessary for Hermione's hair to be dealt with.
As it turned out, it was perhaps a good thing. While Narcissa emerged from the salon with perfectly coiffed hair, all the staff had managed with Hermione during the entire two hours was to tame the bush into something almost resembling curls. They had given her specific directions on how to continue the treatments during her stay and scheduled another two appointments during the weekend in order to finish what they had started.
Hermione could only hope it was worth it. Her stylist had assured her that when they finally managed to tame the beast, she would be able to keep it trained through a simple matter of a hair care regime that could be shortened to a special shampoo and leave in conditioner. She still had her doubts, but was determined to give it a try, especially after seeing that frightening glint in Narcissa's eyes once she emerged.
"It is a start. Still simply atrocious, but certainly another ingredient towards a completed potion."
Hermione kept her comments to herself, only hoping the weekend would be over quickly. What she had thought would be an amusing affair was turning into quite something bothersome. She had little practice in dealing with Narcissa while she was in this state, other than ignoring her which simply wouldn't pass here.
With yet another sigh, she hoped their upcoming pedicures would yield a better mood in her patron. Otherwise, she just might have to make a break for it. No hand massage, no matter how wonderful, was quite worth all this trouble.
Of course, it was with that thought that everything began to fall into place. Narcissa smiled victoriously when she saw that a particularly glowing Lucius, probably just come from a facial, was also awaiting an appointment with the pedicurist. With a sly glance at Hermione, she indicated their luck.
Hermione could only barely contain her groan of frustration as she placed a courteous smile firmly on her face and went to meet her doom.