Chapter Text
Draco had been well aware of Narcissa’s love for planning and outdressing the people around her. A love for well-fitting, expensive clothes seemed genetic. Draco definitely found himself putting hours and thousands into looking well. His father wasn't any different. It seemed every person in the family was trying to upstage the people around them.
Narcissa planned at least 5 events each year. Draco was entirely certain just about everyone in their social circle could draw their home from memory.
Their New Year’s Party was held at their house in Italy that overlooked the ocean. It had a lovely balcony that could fit all the hundreds of people who wanted to watch their magical fireworks.
Their Spring Fling was held in their gardens, and the April weather was always pleasant.
For their Summer Brunch, they went to their beach house in Spain. They always held their party out on the sand so people could walk ankle deep in the water. June was Draco’s favorite because he could slip away into the house and watch people in their fancy clothes trace the line of the beach.
October was when his mother had the most fun. She held a Halloween party and loved that she got to change the theme every year. She had the biggest smile while she decided what her and Lucius’ matching costumes would be.
In December, they held a Christmas party in their ballroom. In Draco’s opinion, it was significantly better than the Yule Ball.
Two years ago, Narcissa had found her favorite designer. Ever. It wasn’t planned at all; she just came home one day gushing about these amazing dresses she found. She had been meandering about for something to wear to Draco’s graduation when she found this dress shop with the most mindblowing designs. The thing was hidden in a corner of Diagon Alley with an ugly door that made it look rather dingy. Even the sign needed repainting. She fell in love, and just about every party dress became one of “Dreamy Designs”. She couldn’t go a single night in them without telling Draco and Lucius who made it. And they were both impressed.
Not only were the cuts stunning and the fabrics always lovely, but the designs moved. Any embroidery and patterns would have some sort of animation. Someone had finally realized they were in a world of magic and fashion. Narcissa even came home one night with a snake necklace that would pull its head up from her collarbone and shine its teeth. It was fascinating how the clothes had become moving art. Narcissa loved every moment of it.
It was not shocking to Draco at all that she finally decided for the new year, they would all be getting custom outfits. He honestly thought she would’ve dragged them down sooner.
She was right about the hidden corner. It seemed like the building was turned to its side and cowering in fear of customers. The door was on the wrong side of the street, and instead of being where all the customers walked, it was on the side of the building. The front doorstep was across the small alleyway of a dumpster. For a greasy restaurant. Draco tugged his suit jacket a little closer to his body in the hopes the smell of burgers didn’t reach out and caress it.
The only hint that there was a shop around the corner was the dirty window that only displayed one dress. There was a small circle sign that hung over the door that read in swirly handwriting “Dreamy Designs.” At least he knew his mother didn’t hallucinate the shop. The door clearly had been painted an ugly color of orange a few decades ago. Now it was peeling and dusty, and extremely revolting if you asked Draco. There was an open sign hanging on the door. Draco grimaced at the sight of the dingy doorhandle. Narcissa reached for the handle, only for Lucius’ hand on her shoulder to stop her.
“Darling, use this. I’d hate for you to catch something.” Lucius said, sticking out his initialed handkerchief. Narcissa only smiled at him and gently took it from him. She draped it over the handle before turning it and pushing open the door. A bell rang above the door. Draco wanted to get away from the dumpster faster. Lucius held the door open for Draco with the end of his cane. He refused to touch the orange paint. Draco slipped into the shop behind his father.
“Welcome in! I’ll be out in just a second!” A voice yelled from the other side of the store. Draco stepped to the side, finally seeing anything other than his father’s back. Narcissa smiled and waved a hand out. She was grinning as brightly as a magician who just pulled off a trick for the first time. And Draco felt just as stunned as an audience member.
It was a very small shop, smaller than any other he had seen on Diagon Alley. He doubted it was bigger than his bathroom. Across from the front door was a register and counter. Behind that counter was a black curtain acting as a door. He did wonder what was behind it. The voice had come from it, so he suspected it was an office of some kind. In the back corner was another black curtain. This one he assumed was a changing room because in front of it was a small couch. The rest of the floor space was split into rows of racks. Racks upon racks of clothes. It was truly more than he conceived possible to fit in the store. They looked like they were about to burst with all the hangers squeezed onto them. He, at least to some degree, was expecting a classier store. The type that he was used to his mother dragging him to, but this one seemed like it had been spackled together on a budget of a rat’s tail, four buttons, and the eye of newt.
This place was a mess. The paint on the inside looked newer than the door, but it had definitely been painted over the old orange. The trim still had the specks of orange, and the new paint, although a lovely purple, was uneven. There were clear spots that were one to two layers higher than others. The floor was nice, beautiful hardwood floors with a stunning cherry stain. It needed a good mop, though. The couch seemed nice; it was a purple velvet with a curving body that reminded him of the loveseat in his walk-in closet.
“Welcome!” The voice rang again. The sound of curtain grommets scraping against the rod made him look up. He expected the shopkeeper to be withered with age. He expected a permanent kink in the neck from being hunched over a sewing machine. He expected wrinkly fingers that had shriveled from all the gathering of fabric. What he did not expect was someone his age. Worse, you were hot. Which was unfortunate for him. Your mouth fell open in a gasp when your eyes finally landed on his mother.
“Narcissa! Oh, my favorite customer!” You squealed, quickly racing around the register counter. Narcissa yelled back, squeaking out your name. She pulled you into a tight hug, cradling the back of your head. Much like she did to him. Draco drifted his eyes to Lucius. Lucius returned the look before gulping away his comments.
“Oh, Darling! I brought my husband and my son! I was thinking about matching New Year's outfits!” Narcissa said, peeling away from you. You looked over her shoulder at the two men. Your eyes dropped, tracing over the lines of Lucius’ suit. You hummed and skipped over to Draco. You ignored his face, immediately analyzing his body. Draco felt his throat run dry and his back straighten on its own. You reached his shoes before snapping your eyes up to his face. You widened your eyes.
“Stunning! I was thinking dark blue. Mermaid, deep cut, small straps.” You rapidly spit out. Draco shook his head. He was out of his field. He knew what cut meant. To snip something. Now what deep cut meant he didn’t know. How did you cut something deeper than usual?
You and Narcissa were spitting lines out so fast he couldn’t catch a single breath. You both clearly knew what the other was saying because you were both grinning brightly. You pulled back the black curtain for the changing room.
Inside was a floor-length mirror on all three walls. A small circular podium sat in the center. It looked rather cheap, so he doubted it was attached to the floor. Narcissa sat down on the purple couch and folded her hands over her purse. Lucius was the first on the podium. Narcissa pulled Draco down onto the couch by his sleeve. He was astonished by how quickly you bounced around Lucius with your measuring tape. A quill and pad floated next to your head, scribbling down the numbers you mumbled to it. Lucius looked a tad peeved that he wasn’t involved in the conversation. He kept chuckling louder than he needed to and muttering agreements. He was begging to be included; it was honestly almost pathetic enough to make Draco snicker. Almost.
Then you patted Lucius’ wrist and waved your hand at Draco. He felt like a cow heading for his slaughter. You didn’t seem to notice. You handed Lucius his cane, leaning to the side to stare at the floating pad. Narcissa smacked Draco’s thigh, bringing him back down. Draco shot up from the couch. He carefully stepped up onto the podium, ignoring the fear of it knocking over. If you had to catch him, he’d sob with embarrassment. Your conversation with Narcissa finally settled with a loud laugh from her. You shook your head in amusement and stretched your tape out. Narcissa turned to Lucius, finally taking up conversation with him. Which made his shoulders drop.
Your fingers gently found the underside of Draco’s wrist. He felt his lungs fill at the sensation. He shot his eyes to your hand. You glanced up at him, grinning at him gently. He was pretty sure you meant it to be placating, but it only made his heart burn more. You carefully raised his arm, pointing it out to the side. He jumped when your other hand found his elbow. You raised his other arm, making him stand up in a T.
“Mark: customer is jumpy.” You mumbled. Draco felt his face burn. He glanced down at your head poking out from under his arm.
“What?” He asked. You lifted your eyes. Jesus. God, who did you pay to look like that? You had to have some kind of potion or spell to make you look so- so…
Well, he didn’t even know. He couldn’t come up with a word. Beautiful was the sun on the ocean in the morning, but this was more than that. Gorgeous was May flowers and bunnies prancing through grass; that couldn’t touch this. Hot was childish.
“Joking.” You explained. Draco huffed. This was hell.
“I don’t take notes on customer personality. Unless it’s for designs.” You grumbled. Your arm wrapped around his waist, making his brows shoot up. You slipped your tape around him, pinching the end to the side.
“Mark: 82.” You muttered to the pad. The quill jumped, scratching against the page. Draco glanced down as your tape dropped to his hips.
“Is 82 good?” He asked. You scoffed.
“There is no good or bad, Draco.” You replied. Draco furrowed his brows. His name was not used this entire appointment.
“My mother told you my name?”
“Narcissa has told me all about you.” You answered. Draco hummed. That was a terrifying sentence. Draco told his mother everything. You could know about that rash he had a few months ago. He didn’t really want anyone to know about that.
“Like what?” He squeaked out. Your arms shot to the side, measuring the length of his leg.
“You went to Hogwarts. Slytherin, like the rest of your family. Top of your classes, except for a few. You have a close group of friends. I remember a Theo, and I think there’s another Theo actually. After the war, you got really sick. You’re seeing a professional. He’s an old guy with a funky eyebrow. Your favorite color is green. You like apple pie, but you tell everyone you prefer cherry. You quit smoking cold turkey two months ago. Your friends did it as a pact. Theo is the one with the biggest issue about it. You’re missing a pinky toe. And you still haven’t found a way to remove...” You glanced down at his sleeve. Draco felt his heart squeeze. You brushed your hand over the fabric, picking at a piece of lint. You tossed it to the side. He hated how close you’d been to touching it. You were too casual about it. You acted like it was some botched Muggle tattoo. You acted like he could take showers with the light on.
“Your mother is incredibly proud of you. She loves to talk about you.” You finished, turning back to your measuring tape. Draco nodded. He wasn’t sure he could force his tongue to move. He felt completely frozen in his stance. You pressed your hand to his forearm, making him shiver. You pushed his arm to his side before moving to the next one.
“I assume it means you’re against short sleeves.” You added. Draco stared at the floor. He could picture the twisting snake curling on the floor. Draco kissed his teeth.
“Yep.”
“Any other insecurities I should know to cover?” You asked. You stepped in front of him, swinging your measuring tape over the back of your neck. The quill and pad drifted to your hands. You raised a brow at him as you posed your quill for writing. Draco stared at you blankly.
“Did you ask my father that?” You bopped your head.
“Oh yeah, I ask everyone that. Everyone has a spot they don’t like.” You answered. Draco sighed through his nose. He rolled his eyes, frowning at you. He mumbled his answer. You leaned forward.
“Huh? Didn’t catch that.” You said.
“My legs.” Draco seethed through his gritted teeth. You turned your head to the side, pointing at your ear.
“Sorry, one more time?” You asked. Draco felt his mouth pinch in frustration.
“My-”
“Nah, I’m just joking. I heard you the first time. I’m just yanking your chain.” You chuckled as you turned back to your pad, scribbling on it. Draco felt his face flare in embarrassment. He really didn’t like you. You turned back to Narcissa. Draco stepped off of the podium to stand next to the couch. His hands dug under the collar of his button-up shirt. He pulled at the chain of his necklace, tracing down the line to find the small oval pendant. He ran his fingerpad over the raised lines of the Malfoy family crest as he watched you interact with Narcissa.