The Art of War

“The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."
Sun Tzu, The Art of War

All of her cloaks were of such fine material in that closet. There were plain black ones. One that was the same shade of blue as her shirt. A deeper blue that was almost black. The material was soft to the touch and the clasps were a lovely silver. A few of them serpents, a few were constellations, and a few were just average clasps. Looking at herself in the mirror, she had to take in a slow breath. Her cheeks weren't as gaunt as they had been a week ago. Her hair was almost full of life, shining and healthy without the frizz, and the clothes fit her well. No holes. No patchwork. No thread in different colors than the fabric.

A disgruntled 'mrow' came from behind her, and she spun away from the closet to go and kneel down next to the bed, her fingers brushing through Crookshanks' fur a moment. Grounding herself. She rested her forehead to his and closed her eyes. Sorting out her feelings and pushing all of the ones that were starting to overwhelm her down. Deep down inside, like she had each time she killed. Each time, she did something of questionable morals. And every time she wanted to scream.

After taking that moment, she picked a cloak that was black and seemed to have a shimmer to it. Almost as if she were cloaked in a constellation, which fit with the clasps. And she used a comb to pin her hair back from her face. If they were going out to be seen or to at least turn some heads, she was going to make sure that she at least looked the part she was playing into. Including a set of heels with a smaller heel before she went to join him at that fireplace.

As she made her way down those steps, Draco couldn’t help but admire her. His constellation on her cloak was a touch that certainly had his attention. Mine. The word came uninvited to his mind and lingered.

Reaching a hand, he let her draw closer, not forcing the proximity this time. “Carriage or apparition?” He offered, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Floo would simply be too messy.

Taking his hand, she approached and tried not to grimace at the options. If she had her own wand, apparition wouldn't be a problem. But a carriage would provide far too much time to think. The kiss to her knuckles had a slight smile curve her lips.

"Side-long apparition will be fine." Getting choices was a welcome reprieve from simply being told what to do. But it also reminded her of what she was agreeing to.

Tucking her hand in his arm, he nodded. “Once our vows are exchanged, you’ll be able to apparate in and out of the Manor,” he promised. Even his most loyal companions had to march passed the peacocks and through the gardens. If anything, it gave him a reprieve.

“We’ll start at Gringotts,” he added, giving her a moment to visualize before taking them there in a flurry of cloaks.

Letting him tuck her hand in his arm, she stepped closer to him. "That will be useful," she thanked quietly. This felt strange. But she let herself visualize the bank. The fact it had been repaired after the dragon burst out of it was still impressive. They had caused quite a stir years ago.

As they appeared outside the bank, she blinked and actually looked over her shoulder. Diagon Alley. Seeing the slow bustle since it wasn't school season was refreshing. All of the shops. A new wand maker and the same bookshop she had spent hours in as a girl. And for the first time in years, she wasn't obscured by illusions.

It was almost too easy to keep her arm in his, the way she fit beside him comfortably despite years of attempting to be the end of the other.

Around them, most went along their day, though a few whispers began to follow as he led the brunette towards the front door and into the wizarding bank.

“Master Malfoy,” a Goblin hurried to his side. There was hardly ever any waiting in his world. Not since the war had turned in his favor.

“I’d like to visit my vault.” There was no emotion in his tone, and his attention remained on the woman at his side.

Within moments, they were led down a hall where Draco happily proved his identity. A few minutes later, they were personally escorted by one of the higher-ranking goblins to the tracks. As sole heir to two of the older and more prominent families, his vaults were deep in the ground. And after the break-in by the woman beside him into similar vaults, extra layers had been added to prevent another such occurrence.

There were a few goblins that looked at Hermione with wide eyes or contempt. Clearly, everyone remembered what she and her best mates had done. At least she could honestly say her reputation proceeded her.

She stayed on Draco's arm and followed him easily to the tracks and to one of the carts. She hadn't been in this bank in seven years. Normally, it was someone else who handled any conversions or any money for the insurgency. She didn't even have a vault here. Any dealings here had been to convert muggle money to galleons, sickles, or knuts.

The goblin apparently knew better than to question the wizard's guest in the vaults. Though the ride down deeper and deeper actually had her smile just a touch. "A lot more precautions now, I see."

"Many thanks to you," he practically purred the words. "Perhaps I should have you test their new systems," he drawled, knowing the Goblin that avoided looking at them would be silently seething. He wasn't exactly known for being kind to anyone deemed lesser.

Hermione actually laughed, not expecting that. As they journeyed down into the depths of the vaults, she glanced around while staying pressed to his side. "I could be convinced. Would be amusing. I'd need help if I'm stealing another blind dragon." She stated without looking at the goblin, like Draco was the only important person at all.

"Somehow, I doubt there's another blind dragon," he drawled. "I might have accomplices that would be intrigued, and it isn't really theft if it's my own vault..." It was almost tempting to put together a small team just to see. He had other worries than the security systems of Gringotts, but he hadn't instilled a reign of terror by making others comfortable. Let the Goblins tighten their ranks.

"Disappointing. That had been fun." Terrifying. It had been utterly terrifying, but that didn't fit the role of someone who helped with an insurgency for seven years after hunting Horcruxes for a year. "Do let me know." She doubted it would be, but she saw what he was doing. The time to start playing her part was now.

Eventually, they were down in the depths of the bank's caverns. "Wait here," he ordered the Goblin before stepping out and offering Hermione a hand. Taking his hand, she stepped up and out of the cart, staying on his arm as she walked up to the vault door. No Black or Malfoy had ever left the opening of their vault in the hands of creatures, let alone others. Leading her down the stone hallway, he paused at the door, pressing his palm to a hand-print carved in the door.

Legatum Fortis, Fides Infringibilis She heard him speak in a low tone.

It was a few moments before the mechanisms began, and the vaults opened for him. He didn't speak, only walked forward, keeping her close as she committed the scene to memory. Not that she'd need it soon. Her last name wouldn't be Granger for long.

"I doubt I need to warn you not to touch anything," he said carefully. He had heard of what had happened in his aunt's vault. "At least until you're a Malfoy," he looked over her. "Jewels should be over there," he motioned towards the back, lights turning on as they made their way.

The thought had her stomach twisting in knots again as she gave a nod. "I know. Don't want things multiplying on me. Or whatever other defenses you have on the vault." With how his family despised Muggle-borns, she could only assume the defenses would be worse on her than others.

"You want me to look at the jewels?" It was a quiet question, but she did go where he had indicated. She crossed her arms loosely over her chest and kept her hands to herself as well as watching where she stepped. Did he want her to pick things that would go with a new dress?

Draco paused in front of the large piece of furniture with thin, long drawers. He pulled one, then another. It took three to find the necklace he was looking for. Settling the black velvet box on the flat surface, he opened it.

A large green-looking oval stone sat in the middle of an intricate silver setting, the Malfoy crest resting atop it.

As they approached all of the different cabinets and trunks that seemed to have baubles and riches, she kept her hands to herself. The green oval stone that he pulled out on that silver chain and setting had her look over it. She saw the crest and felt those knots all over again. She was actually doing this. Entering into a marriage of convenience where the most she would likely get from her husband was good sex, freedom, and obsession. Possession. Even if there was something softer still tucked away in there somewhere.

"It's not the prettiest, but it's functional," he told her. "It's part of a series of linked pieces that report to the head of household ring." The thick Malfoy Crest he wore on his right ring finger. It was how he knew his parents were alright, even if they didn't constantly keep contact. "It'll have the Manor recognize you with limitations, and I doubt I have to explain how people will react to it." She'd spent a lifetime hunting him. If anyone understood the very weight his name presented, she would.

"I'm not usually one for baubles...so it not being the prettiest doesn't matter much to me," she reassured as she looked at his hand, the ring there, and then back to the oval pendant. "What sort of limitations will this have? And no...you don't have to explain." Some would respect it, some would fear it, and some would despise her all the more for it. Especially those who begrudgingly accepted the regime and hoped the insurgency would get them out of it.

"It won't allow you to apparate on the property, but it will give you access to most restricted areas without needing me. Most of my wing, the staff quarters, the cellar," he smirked at that last one. She might make friends with that one. There was more, but even his knowledge wasn't perfect.

"The cellar?" She wasn't sure she'd want to go down there, but she had a feeling if she avoided it, then she'd be called into question by others. All over again. So she would try to ensure that she didn't seem like she was avoiding anything to do with her new home—such an odd word to apply to the manor.

Plucking the necklace from its cushion, he undid the clasp and moved to stand behind her. Gently, he had her move her hair to tie it around her neck as she looked at the rings before her.

"And until we get a ring made..." he moved back to the fourth drawer and plucked a large tray of rings. "Lady's choice," he offered.

Her eyes widened a little bit as she looked over the rings, her gaze sweeping all the options presented. Lifting her hair up off of her neck, she let it be secured there and then carefully lowered her hair and smoothed her fingers over the necklace. Glad that it wasn't hexed or cursed in any way.

There was one stone that was shaped like a diamond and shone beautifully. With how she watched the stars as a girl, it seemed oddly fitting. And there weren't a bunch of other stones around it. "That one..."

Every ring had its own unique style. It spanned centuries of fads, some he found gaudy at best. He didn't dislike the one she chose. He was even surprised there was something so simple in there. Reaching over her, he gently seized it and lifted her left hand.

As he grabbed the ring and lifted her hand, she felt her heart hammering in her chest all over again.

"I can't promise you a lifetime of happiness, but I can promise you you'll want for nothing," he presented her with the ring, allowing her to make the final move so he could place it on her finger.

"I believe you," she offered. At least in this, she did. She spread her fingers and pushed her finger through the ring, allowing him to slide it down her finger. Though as it settled against the skin, she learned why it looked so plain. As it settled there, a few tendrils seemed to bloom from the ring, mimicking the setting of the necklace around her neck. So much for picking something basic.

She should have expected that. "I'm sure I'll have to adjust to the Malfoy standards for jewels and clothing..."

He wrapped his arms around her, if only to make sure she wouldn't flinch if he did so above ground. "Let me shower you with gifts. It's expected during courtship and engagement periods."

She didn't flinch at the embrace, but she did hesitate before relaxing into him a little bit. "Not much I can do to dissuade you, so I suppose I must." Rather than sounding irritated, it sounded a bit more playful.

"Good witch," he praised breathily against her ear, pulling away. "We have to get fitted, see a jeweler, and hopefully make it to the bookshop. Any other stops you'd like to make?" It was a fairly full itinerary, and the longer they remained, the higher the risk of an altercation. They'd been down in the vaults long enough. By now, news of their outing had likely made its way through the grapevine.

That praise against her ear had a shiver roll down her spine. Getting fitted and going to a jeweler seemed like a chore, but she took a bit of comfort in the last item on the itinerary. A reward for a job well done was how she'd try to see it for now. Taking his arm again, she let out a slow breath as she nodded. "You already included the bookshop. Don't feel like testing fate in dealing with anyone."

With her on his arm, he led them back out of the vault, waiting for the doors to seal before helping her back into the cart. Once settled beside her, he had the Gobelin bring them back to the surface.

Once out of the bank, he gave her the choice of their next stop. Either would be time-consuming in their own respect.

At least she didn't have to talk to anyone at the moment, which would change as soon as they got to either of the first stops. Hopefully, he could do the talking for the most part. The jeweler was her first choice. It would be a bit more tedious than the dress, especially since she wouldn't have to go looking for a wedding dress yet.

A few people gave them sideways glances, but they stayed out of their way and didn't make a comment.

Overhead, a magical bell chimed, alerting the staff of their presence. One of the girls at that counter had greeted them, only to be sent back by the owner. Apologizing for her lack of decorum as he came to greet Draco face to face. "I had so hoped to see you again in my store given the news," he beamed, despite Draco's cool composure.

"There are few metal charmers of your caliber left in London," he acknowledged the tall man with thin fingers studying them.

"And this must be the infamous Miss....well, soon to be Mrs Malfoy," he gave her a warm smile. "May I?" he looked between the both of them, reaching a hand to see the ring finger he'd be working with.

With a nod from the blond, the man studied her hand and the current piece there. "Stunning piece," he commented. "What were you imagining?" he asked, a quill and parchment hovering beside him as he led them in toward seating over by a glass encasement.

"A set. We've settled on the traditional vows," he waited for his partner to sit before doing so himself. "We'll need a stone capable of holding a number of vows," he added.

Taking a seat in that seating area, she crossed one leg behind the other as she watched the jeweler ready to take notes. The traditional vows. They hadn't really said they needed anything more than that between each other, had they?

"I'd be open to more than one stone to support the number of vows necessary," she added, glancing over at Draco. That might be necessary if they didn't want too big of a stone, though. Because she would prefer a smaller stone if possible.

"We could give you a final count in a week or two." He heard the scratch of quill on parchment as he eyed his lover. "I'll need a matching band, of course." These types of rings came in sets, often spun from the same sources to ensure seamless cohesion.

"Of course," the man acknowledged. "If I may be so bold, could I see your wands," he added. "Ensure I use the right essences to represent you both through the process."

Draco gave a single nod, plucking his length of wood from his cloaks and then producing hers. At the raised brow he received, he merely shrugged.

The metal charmer swallowed and set to work, carefully turning each in his hands in turn. "Common cores," he grinned as he moved onto her more delicate length of wood. He returned the wand to Draco and paused.

Hermione was a little surprised he had her wand on her. Before they had come to this agreement, she would have likely tried to take her wand back. Watching as the wands were examined, she actually was a little surprised they had common cores.

Dragon heartstrings for them both, then. "How similar are they?" She hadn't really gotten a good look at Draco's new wand after the Battle of Hogwarts, but she supposed it didn't matter.

"Do you still need me to hold onto your wand, dearest?" he asked her, giving her the choice. He knew it was a dangerous question to ask. If she really wanted it, he would have no choice but to hand it over. She was trusting him through all of this.

Looking over at Draco, it was hard not to make a face at the term dearest. She supposed terms of endearment in public were going to be common place. "If you wouldn't mind, darling." She could always use the excuse for this skirt and cloak not having pockets. But hopefully, the man wouldn't ask.

"We'll have to have that tailor do something about your pockets," he responded easily. Between the both of them, they likely had more targets on their backs than the entirety of the Wizarding World combined. He wouldn't have risked leaving her unarmed should something arise. It was why he'd brought it in the first place. Now she knew.

The jeweler seemed apologetic as he eyed them again, handing the wand back to the blond before looking at her. "I'd say same dragon or dragon line," he offered gently. Given their history, it made sense to him, though he held back the thoughts.

"We absolutely must. The fact they forget even in my cloak is ridiculous," she drawled with a shake of her head, watching as he took her wand back before she looked back at the jeweler with just a touch of surprise. Same dragon line or the same dragon. Interesting. She knew enough wand lore to realize that it was likely more significant than they realized.

"Did you have a cut in mind? For the main gem," he pulled a tray of diamonds, showing different cuts and forms. "I'd avoid these," he set aside princess cuts and most of the round ones. He glanced at Hermione's hand again and summoned a few settings, creating various choices and changing them with every reaction he perceived.

Looking at Draco, she offered a bit warmer of a smile. "I'd say that's a rather good omen," she said smoothly as her hand lightly rested on his arm before she gave her attention back to the jeweler. Glad that he had already set aside the princess cuts.

"I do enjoy pear, marquise, or kite cuts," she offered as some sort of insight. She fiddled with the ring on her finger currently as she looked over the different settings. She did lean towards one with sharper lines, something more like a diamond or a marquise. Allowing the jeweler to at least see her reactions.

"Pear or Kite," Draco echoed her preferences. Marquise was too thin. "That," he noted, one of the settings that was being mocked up. He looked at Hermione. He hated to say it, but it reminded him of one of the knives she had held at his throat. And yet, there was an elegance to it. He wasn't sure how his band would match, but that was why he paid men like the one across from them ridiculous amounts of galleons.

Seeing the kite cut set in that potential band with room for other gems actually had her smile a little bit more. "That one looks perfect," she breathed, letting her tone and that slight chink in 'composure' speak to that. But she did actually like it. It wasn't too large. There were going to be a lot of things she couldn't downsize, so she'd take this of he approved of it as well. The sharp lines spoke to her for a similar reason. It spoke to him; it spoke to the hard-edged they had towards each other until recently and the world at large. Easier than she thought. Now dresses, for the proper announcement, for their courtship or engagement was likely not going to be as easy.

"I'll have a final count on stones and a time for you," Draco told the man. "It will likely be a firm and narrow deadline," he looked at the man before settling a small stack of galleons on the counter.

"Of course, Mr Malfoy," the owner nodded. "As soon as you need it, it will be ready," he vowed with a bow.

"I look forward to seeing the final product," he said. "Now, we do have other matters, but we'll be in touch."

The sooner he could be back home, the better, but this had only been one of their three stops.

Offering the jeweler a polite smile, she stood up and stayed on Draco's arm as they left the shop.

Her heart felt like it was hammering in her chest. All of this felt like a lot. Tell her she had to break into the Ministry to steal something again, and she'd be better prepared than she was for all of this.

The official announcement she was sure would be soon and the fact that You Know Who was the one that would be pushing a lot of wedding planning? Almost made her ill.

As they strode down the street to whatever seamstress he deemed worthy enough for this, she let out a slow breath. "And this is to be for the first official public announcement, yes? I'm sure your mother will want a say in whatever dress I wear for the union." She couldn't say a special day or happy day. Even knowing he wouldn't treat her badly, this was never what she had pictured.

“Good thing I’m not marrying my mother,” he stopped in the middle of the street to pull her chin up and meet her gaze. “You’re the next Mrs Malfoy. Your dress will be to your liking.” He’d seen her Yule Ball dress. She’d done well. “It’ll just be custom to your measurements,” he added. The fabric, the neckline, the cut, he would have no say in it. “I won’t be there for those fittings, but you also don’t have to entertain my mother at them either.”

A slight snort left her at that, but as he stopped to pull her chin up to look at him, she felt her heart skip a moment. After seeing those eyes look at her with more warmth than she ever would have expected last night, even that cool composure felt different. "I suppose I should start thinking about what I would want then. Have to make sure I leave an impression after all." But whether that was on their guests, him, or her future-in-laws, she didn't say. Taking his hand in her own for a moment, she squeezed it.

United fronts were going to be needed now. And more people kept glancing at them. Was it him, her, the fact she was with him, or the ring and necklace she had on display? No matter. It couldn't matter.

Her hand was small and warm inside his larger seize. He knew there was a lioness in there, and he was glad to know he hadn’t completely obliterated her in their deadly dance. If anyone could survive his side, it was her.

A few buildings down, he walked past Malkin’s and onto a shop that was known among Pureblood circles. Twilfitt and Tattings was small but by no means lacking. The store capitalized on specialty one-of-a-kind creations. There was a sordid pleasure to bring his fiancée there. Her lineage was no secret, and even with the Dark Lord’s blessing, he welcomed that chatter. To spite his peers who partied and carried on business as usual while he did his master’s bidding. It gave him a satisfaction he hadn’t anticipated.

Walking along with him with her head held high as they passed Madam Malkin's. She hadn't been in that shop since the summer before her sixth year of school. Now, she had a feeling she'd never set foot in there again. Status and expectations were going to have to guide her actions. She had freedom to a point, but she still had a role to play. Especially in public.

As they stepped inside and another chime rang through the establishment, a few shoppers glanced over at them and seemed to gape for a moment or two. Rather than say a word, she spared them a brief glance before looking away with the same level of cold indifference that she had offered those she interrogated with the insurgency.

“Draco?” A familiar voice came from his side.

His features seemed to freeze in place before he turned, needing those seconds to keep steady. “Daphne,” he responded in greeting. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Getting a time for a fitting has been harder thanks to some engagement of the century,” she replied with mock acrimony.

Draco gave the slightest smile. “No idea what you’re talking about. I’m sure my fiancée will have no such issue,” he purred.

Daphne grinned, looking over at the brunette. “I wish I could say he’s told me all about you,” she smiled, offering a hand in greeting. “Daphne Greengrass. We had Ancient Runes together… wow that feels like forever ago…”

“Daphne’s an old friend,” Draco supplied. He’d suggest they become friends. Daphne was kind, if not sheltered. “And though this reunion is nice, we do have…”

One of the seamstresses was already intercepting them. Beckoning the couple towards one of the alcoves of the shop with a wooden stand before a tri-fold mirror. Close by a station with tools and rolls of fabric.

The voice sounded familiar enough as she glanced over at the other woman. Greengrass. She wasn't sure which one, though. Not at first.

Hermione gave a slight roll of her eyes and a faint smile at Draco's assertion that they'd be fine. The engagement hadn't even been announced, the courtship not official, and yet he was already calling her his fiancée. Well. She did have a ring on her finger. Just the vows to figure out.

Offering a bit of a smile to Daphne, she gave a slight shrug. "Draco is a rather private person," she offered with a slight chuckle. "Which I'm sure you know quite well." Taking her hand, she gave it a decently firm shake. "It was a lifetime ago. Hermione Granger, for now," she offered with a soft chuckle.

It felt strange. Odd. "Perhaps sometime soon we can have tea. Get to know each other," she offered as politely as she could before they were ushered away. Though as soon as she saw the seamstress attending them, she lightly squeezed Draco's arm a bit tighter while her face betrayed nothing. The woman had helped with several of the supply drops and dead drops. Damn it.

That shift on his arm didn’t seem to phase him, following casually with a hand in his pocket while she hung on the other.

“I suppose we do need a party,” he sighed. “Likely this weekend, since apparently dresses are being made in anticipation…” he chuckled at that. Give it to the upper crust. It would keep his mother busy.

“Think you could have outfits made for Hermione and me that quickly?” He asked the seamstress.

"Hardly surprising considering you were one of the most eligible bachelors of our age," she said offhand with a bit more of a smile as if she had won a prize. Acting had become just as pivotal for him as it had for her.

The seamstress seemed to give Hermione a look, looking her up and down, and seemed to be trying to say something with her eyes before it was gone. "Of course, Master Malfoy. Should be easy enough. Did either of you have anything in mind for colors, cut, or style?"

The witch gave a flick of her wand and guided Hermione away from Draco and onto a small platform to get her all measured properly. They already had Draco's measurements squared away.

Hermione glanced at Draco in the mirror, trying to silently get him to take the lead there. All of this was still new to her, even with that little book as a guide.

“Deep blues, almost black,” he met her gaze in the mirror. “Something celestial,” he added. His family liked to use constellations in their naming process. “You know how I like my dress robes,” he shrugged. “As for my partner, tasteful but modern. A low enough cut to highlight a necklace…” he couldn’t help but look over Hermione’s body.

Celestial would be fine with her, and it had her shoulders stay relaxed. At least she wasn't required to be in all-black. Or all white. She was sure that the Dark Lord would want to showcase that they had corrupted one of the symbols of hope for the insurgency eventually. If she could avoid that for as long as possible, she would.

"If we go for a long skirt, a slit up one side would be preferred," she said simply. She wanted the movement so she couldn't be restricted by the skirt. "Tastefully done, of course." She added offhand, trying to sound as composed as possible as the witch got her measurements and moved to one of her sketchbooks.

A custom piece. Had she ever had custom work done for clothing before? At least she knew most of her closet was 'off the rack,' as he said. But she had a feeling her wardrobe would slowly be made up of more and more one-of-a-kind pieces.

The seamstress nodded, looking over the woman as Draco took a seat on a nearby armchair.

Quill etched on parchment as the witch called different fabrics.

Hermione idly played with the chain of her necklace, watching as the witch worked as more fabrics were brought over. A layering effect over a deep blue fabric could work, especially if it was silver and pulled constellations into it. It was an engagement announcement, so she had a bit of an idea.

"If you can be clever about it, add in the Gemini and Virgo constellations," she stated as she stepped off of the platform, looking over the dress that was being sketched. Those who paid attention would get it; others wouldn't.

Draco smiled at the request. Clever. She was a natural, even if she hated every minute of it. This was a role. They all had their roles to play. Part of him wanted to feign being called by the Dark Lord to avoid this sort of place, but then his lady would be left vulnerable.

Tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear, she hummed softly as she saw a few of the sketches. She selected a smooth and satiny dark blue fabric that was like the twilight sky and sleeves that would flow off of her shoulders like ribbons. It could be used to hide her scar if she desired, but that scar was as much a point as everything else. And she couldn't wear long sleeves to every function.

After a bit more collaboration, the overlay of the skirt would hold the constellations requested hidden in the starlight patterns that would form the skirt and leave room for a slit going up to her thigh on the right side. But as she came up with the design, she considered it for a moment and then glanced over at Draco. "Would you prefer the same shade of blue or an aspect of the constellations put into your dress robes, darling?"

Despite the foreignness of the endearment on her tongue, she said it smoothly without hesitation, the seamstress giving Hermione another sideways glance but otherwise didn't react at all.

“The same fabric should be present, and I’m open to some charmed constellations,” he agreed, seemingly the doting lover.

He turned to the seamstress. “Now that you have her measurements, ensure anything tailored for me has a dress to suit my partner.” There would never be a doubt as to whose arm she was on. As much to quell that possessive desire as it was to protect her. Few dared hold their own against him. A fear that extended to those he kept close.

Approving the design, she strode back over to her partner with a warmer smile, almost double tacking at the fact that she was about to get many more dresses to match him.

"If you have questions about my preferences in such matters, send an owl. We'll make sure you get a reply," she said simply since the seamstresses had to learn her preferences now that they had her measurements. She was ready to leave. Playing this role much more was going to make her crack. She still needed to get used to it.

Draco didn’t need more to rise and offer his witch his arm. A sac of coins was deposited, and he cut any further conversation off so they could catch a break at Flourish and Blotts for a spell before returning home.

Back on his arm, she leaned into him a little bit more, her heart hammering in her chest as they passed the others and stepped out of the shop. It was less busy than earlier, at least in the shops. A few of the cafes seemed to be busier. It was almost as if the long street of shops hadn't suffered seven years ago. Some things were repaired....though Weasley Wizard Wheezes still sat empty. She didn't spare a glance at the former joke shop.

“Earlier, you squeezed my arm. Anything I need to handle?” He asked gently.

Letting out a slow breath, she considered it. If she gave this to him, it would help him and help sell that she was cooperating. If she didn't, it showed that they didn't or couldn't trust one another.

"...She helps with supply and dead drops," she said quietly, making sure no one overheard them. "I don't know what story Diggory gave them all, but it's bound to come back around sooner rather than later now."

He nodded, not motioning to change his course. Getting another seamstress on short notice wouldn’t do. He had to give her that long before intervening. Until then, he’d have Nott follow her.

“He claims you were a spy we traded for Wood. Like it was some even exchange,” the words were derisive. “Delusional the lot of them.” Wood wasn’t even close to being as valuable as she was.

A spy. Harry would know better but it wasn't like anyone listened to Harry anymore. They trotted him out every so often for morale boosts and kept him constantly moving. If she could get a note to him, she would. In a heartbeat.

"Course he did. Easier to write me off that way....He likely believes he got the better end of the deal. Diggory hates me and Harry. And considering where Wood stood compared to me..." she shrugged her shoulders dismissively. They trusted him more than her.

“Perhaps I’ll offer you his hands as an engagement present,” he kept her close. Wood was dead. It was just a matter of when. He’d not only touched his witch but tried to smear her. No, Draco couldn’t allow Oliver Wood to live.

That brought up an important question. "What all did you see in his head that made you so angry at him?" She asked quietly as they approached Flourish and Blotts.

“Something that will lead to a slow, painful death.” It was the most he could share on the matter. Especially in public. If his being alive hadn’t given him Hermione, the asshole would already be begging for death.

A sigh left her lips at the dramatics, and she just gave him a look without questioning further. It had to be bad, whatever it was. Not that she'd get an answer anytime soon. She let him open the door for them both and walked inside of the shop. The familiar scent of books eased her shoulders further, and a little bit of light returned to her eyes. Books.

“I believe this is your list,” he produced her jotted note once inside. “Did you want to order them?” He asked her gently. He didn’t need to take point here, and giving her and the store the illusion of agency worked in his favor. “In case you forgot a few more titles you desired.”

She took the parchment. She shouldn't have been surprised that this was another task for the day. Still, she took the list with a slight nod of her head. Titles she desired. There were a few, more than a few really, but she'd contain her enthusiasm and only get a few that were not strictly research tomes. Letting go of his arm, she marched straight to the counter, stating her desire to make a decently large order of books, slid the list across the counter, and then rattled off five more titles. He had said she'd want for nothing.

As she engaged the staff and had them running amok, he smiled in his corner, shifting down the potions aisle to find some light reading of his own. They’d likely be a while, judging by her extended wish list.

The moment the shopkeeper laid eyes on the necklace around her neck, the staff began scattering across the shop to gather her books rapidly. She flipped through one of the books close to the counter, a new publication on illusions and protections. It kept her busy while several members of staff got nearly all of the books she requested. Apparently, three from the list of research tomes would need to be specially ordered, but they assured her that they'd be delivered to the Manor as soon as magically possible. Perhaps there were some perks to marrying the Devil.