Wizarding Dress Robes Novels & Stories

Ruby curtsied and started heading towards the door. "Ruby, you're still only wearing a slip." Phoebus reminded. "Oh, am I?" A bright light suddenly encased the witch's body for a second before disappearing again. Her purple slip was replaced by a red and white off-shoulder dress with a black collar. A red cloak was wrapped around her shoulder and the purple butterfly covering her right eyes was replaced by a red one. Her long silver hair was tied in a braid decorated by the same red butterflies. Ruby pulled the hood over her head and winked at the marksman before exiting from the door.

he snickered. I shot him a warning glance, though I couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped. “Just find the robes, Lucas.” We moved deeper into the boutique, sifting through racks filled with ceremonial robes. The fabrics shimmered faintly from the pack magic imbued in their threads. Each garment felt like it carried its own legacy, as if it had been woven with purpose. One robe, in particular, caught my eye—a gleaming white garment adorned with intricate moon-blessed silver threading. I reached out to touch it, warmth instantly blooming against my fingertips.

"Right? It is only proper that the most eligible bachelor is paired with the most eligible spinster, you!" "Indeed." "Come on now, we must pick you the perfect dress already." Hazel led her by hand towards the huge dresser in the corner of the room, one the princess rarely had to open herself as the maids were responsible for dressing her up. She slid her hands past many dresses, coming to rest on a beautiful golden white and colored robe, she pulled it out carefully. A look of awe appeared upon the face of the heiress, the gown was astonishing to say the least. Long, flowing and adorned beautifully.

Their happiness becomes yours and you cannot help but share their joy. I decide to wear the pink dress I had bought to show Draco. I know that many in the village will be clothed in a normal days wear, and I would not want Draco to feel out of place. When I am ready to go I head to the table to wait. At my arrival, my father is slipping his feet into his geta. Instead of the pants I normally see him wear to work in the fields he has put on one of the few robes he has. It is the same green of a dress he bought that reminds him of my mother's favorite color.

I wasn’t used to people doing things for me, and I don’t intend to start now. Once I’m done, I step out, only to be wrapped in a fluffy, high-quality robe. The fabric is soft against my skin. Then, they bring the dress. A deep purple gown, elegant and flowing. I don’t argue this time. The material alone is something I don’t understand, and I have a feeling refusing wouldn’t change anything. So I let them dress me. But with every passing second, one thought lingers in my mind—who exactly is “the lLord”?

The garment rustled as she brought it to me, the fabric catching light like water at midnight. I stood, letting my robe fall away as Lily held the dress for me to step into. The silk slid cool against my skin as she guided it up my body. Unlike traditional Luna coronation gowns, which emphasized femininity through elaborate embellishments, mine had been designed with authority in mind. The bodice hugged my torso in clean lines, the skirt falling in perfect pleats that would allow me freedom of movement on the dais. The sleeves ended just below my elbows, leaving my forearms bare—a subtle reminder that these hands had executed rogues and liberated prisoners.

After three seconds, my right hand accompanied victory. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Sire." I reached out my right hand to his already stretched arms as he tried to lift me up the few high steps in front of me, pathetically trying to keep my smile as real as possible. And my left hand adjusting the disturbing dress I was ordered to wear. Royalty gowns like these types would never speak the same language. From the undertunic Kedar called a chemise, that was made of linen, to the anke-to-floor length embellished kirtle I had to wear over the chemise, and those wide and hanging sleeves that looked like an angel sleeve. The dressing overall was just never me. As if to make things worst, Keda

I reply, gingerly climbing out of his arms, cautious about how my swollen pole moves, so as not to stab him with it. I kindly ask Elmira to return my robe for my trip back home and she hands it over with a soft smile before melding back into her tree. The silken robe encrusted with gems and embroidery is a customary item for a prince, and is nearly all I wear other than the gowns for more formal gatherings. My parents informed me that in other realms beings hide their bodies more, perhaps that is why Miguel looks surprised that the robe billows opened as I move exposing my naked form and never truly covers my hard appendage, that seems not to want to deflate. I guide my mate and his companio

When the Nebos finished, the silks formed into a floor-length robe and a loose pair of pants hanging on his hips. Today's clothing color was green and red like Christmas decor. It had taken Murry hours to teach the Nebos how to make pants and a robe. He couldn't get a shirt. He shrugged at the covering. It was enough not to feel so exposed all the time. Caring about what color they choose was beyond what he was willing to put in the time.

The outer fabric was a flowing material made of red feathers sewn together into a cloak. The owl glided through the chamber with the robe in her claws. The longer feathers that made up the hem flirted with the wind like the tail of a phoenix. Vasilisa turned to her pet and held her arms out. Owlyn dropped the robe for her and it fell elegantly, covering the sorceress's nakedness. "What a delight to have it back," the sorceress breathed in contentment. It was the most beautiful robe Cassandra'd ever seen. The sleeves were wide like the wings of a swan. Cassandra looked at the robe and its wearer in awe. She was sure that the sorceress's cloak was also magical.