Challenge: Formal Robes
Team: Death Eaters
A/N: The characters do not belong to me. The mistakes do. For stgulik.
It was long and narrow. Without the life force to fill it, there was nothing imposing about it. Emptied of its owner, it carried no intimidation, no personality.
Hermione laid the robe on the bed, face up, and smoothed the wrinkles from the fine fabric. Absently, she stroked the velvet cuffs, ran her fingers over the long line of buttons.
The first tear dropped on the arm, and disappeared into the magic fibres. She vanished the blood and venom from the collar, and repaired the shoulder.
He would never want to be seen in anything less than his best.