Chapter 32: You Need Beyoncé

Ginny Potter slumped in the tiny chair she'd been seated in and downed the complimentary glass of elf wine she'd been handed. Her shirt rolled up as she slouched. She absently prodded the small roll of belly over her jeans.

"Another Mrs Potter?" A slim boy in a neat waistcoat appeared at her elbow, a large bottle in hand.

"That's a question you need never ask again. Keep 'em coming, kid." She grinned up at the lad, who could be no more than eighteen. He did as she bid, a blush creeping on his cheeks. "Thanks" She nodded and watched as he scurried back to his corner of the fitting room.

"How much longer?" Ginny whined at the large curtain separating her from Hermione.

"I didn't ask you to come!" Hermione trilled as madame Malkin herself made final alterations on the garment Hermione was wearing.

"I love this idea, Hermione," the master tailor said with a wistful smile as she used her wand to add body to the skirt. The original gown had been one of hers, and altering it had been a fun exercise.

"Hello." Pansy Parkinson nervously glanced around the room, a bundle of papers under her arm. The door's ding had been muted by their loud chatter.

"Is that you, Pansy?" Hermione called.

"Yes, I've brought the test print to show you and come to see your dress," Pansy yelled back. Uncomfortable interacting with Hermione now that Ginny Potter was in the mix. Pansy had once argued the benefits of turning the red-headed woman's husband over to Death-Eaters. It wasn't a natural starting block for friendship.

"There's actually no need to shout. It's just a curtain." Ginny smirked and relaxed even further into her chair. She had no reason to feel uncomfortable in the Slytherins presence. Ginny was infinitely cooler than all other mortals, even with a belly roll on display.

"Would you like a chair Miss Parkinson?" The lad from before bounded from his hiding place with a diminutive seat, much like Ginny's floating beside him.

"Thank you," Pansy nodded primly and lowered herself down.

"Drink?" He asked, proffering a full glass of elf wine.

"You never need to ask me that," Pansy muttered, grabbing the glass and taking a deep drink.

"Ginny said the same thing." Hermione chuckled as Malkin pinned her bust line.

"I like a free drink," Ginny said by way of explanation, not looking at Pansy. She wasn't sure how to feel. When Hermione first mentioned that the pair had chummed about, Ginny had naturally felt very territorial. There was also added animosity, thanks to the raven-haired Slytherin being a bit of a cunt when they were younger. Hermione had asked Ginny to be the bigger person, so she puffed out a breath and swivelled her neck to fully take in the woman she hardly knew. "So, you and Blaise, what happened there?"

"Ginny!" Hermione scolded from her perch on the tailor's block.

"It's fine." Pansy squared her shoulders, "We love each other but want very different things from life. I'm not willing to compromise, and he doesn't think he should either." Pansy spoke clearly, her eyes unblinking as she stared at the red-head, hoping she, like Granger, was impressed with emotional scar exposure.

"What kind of differences?" Ginny pressed, her eyebrow raised and her mouth set in a straight and challenging line.

"A lot of little things." Pansy gnawed her lip and reminded Ginny, suddenly, of Hermione.

"Give me an example." Ginny dug in.

"I wanted us to move somewhere we can both afford the rent, shared… rather than just living in the flat his parents gave him." she blinked and took another draught from the glass of elf wine. "He doesn't want to downgrade, and he doesn't understand why I want to."

"Harry spent so much time living at the burrow and eating our food. I didn't feel so bad eating his for a while." Ginny offered her a half-smile. "But I get you."

"I just think that he'd love this version of me too if we were meant to be," Pansy said, more to herself than anyone else and reached out her glass for a refill. "Thank you," she muttered at the retreating form of the serving boy, her spirit flagging again.

Ginny Potter actually felt quite bad, she'd hoped her brash prodding would set a tone of upfront, and no holes barred banter. Instead, she'd made the already moribund woman more melancholic. "You're quite right. If he can't love you at your independent woman , he doesn't deserve you at your drunk in love ." Ginny nodded.

"What?" Pansy's eyebrows scrunched. She was sure she understood the gist of the comment but not the content.

"No wonder you're sad. You need Beyoncé." Ginny tutted, "Can I see?" the red-head pointed at the paper.

"Yes, so it will run in the Sunday Prophet." Pansy explained, "Front page will be a picture from the ball." She explained the mostly blank front page excitedly and pointed to the byline: Granger and Malfoy's love story in their own words. A Prophet exclusive. See Sunday Magazine supplement.

"The Prophet do a Sunday Magazine?" Ginny's brow furrowed.

"This is our soft launch," Pansy explained. She could talk shop for days and feel no awkwardness. "I've been pushing to expand our lifestyle and culture pages. This was the compromise, a weekly supplemental." She handed Ginny the magazine.

"Oh my god." Ginny's eyes bulged, and her mouth dropped open at the sizeable glossy image on the cover. "That's… that's a picture!" She gaped and stared at the moving image. In a stunning sky-blue tea dress with Draco's arms wrapped around her, Hermione Granger stood in front of Malfoy Manor. The loop was hypnotic. Hermione's grin towards the camera was short-lived as she tilted her chin towards the blonde to smile at something he'd said. One of her arms dropped from her waist, pulling his arm with it, so she could turn in his embrace and press a kiss to his cheek. Draco Malfoy's grin made Ginny's heart ache, knowing that smile had been hidden under so much shite for so long. The most notable, striking, and undoubtedly soon to be talked about aspect of the photo wasn't the kiss. Ginny couldn't believe the impact seeing it had on her. When Hermione pulled Draco's arm away, both their forearms had tilted to the lens, and for a brief second, the viewer could clearly see the word mudblood on her arm and the dark mark on his.

"Fucking hell Pansy." Ginny looked up at the woman she had clearly underestimated.

"It packs a punch, eh?" Parkinson asked as she flipped open the magazine. "All of the good shots we got were candid ones, where she's not conscious of the camera." Pansy pointed to one where Hermione, dressed in her best business attire, was perched on Malfoy's desk and laughing hysterically at something he had said. He laughed too, as he pinched his nose with his fingers, leaned his head lightly against her shoulder, and shook with mirth. "I Like this one best," Pansy smiled. "I don't think there's ever been a printed photo of a Malfoy laughing." She mused and flicked the page. More pictures and words jumped out.

"" He makes me want to be my best self. In a silly way, he always has. Academically he was my benchmark"" Ginny read in a whisper and felt the back of her nose burn, fully letting it sink in that her best friend was in love. Real love. "" I just feel like I want to be the best version of myself when I'm with him," Hermione smiles at the man she's been talking about, and she blushes. Their chemistry is palpable "She makes me a better man." Draco Malfoy, a gentleman of few words, nods at me. Dear reader..."" Ginny stopped orating to flash a grin at Pansy. "I like when you do that 'dear reader' schtick. It's old school" Mrs Potter nodded and continued to read aloud. "" Dear reader, I know as a journalist it is my obligation to remain disconnected and unbiased, but allow me to throw in my knut: I've known Draco Malfoy since he was three years old, I can categorically confirm his statement to be true. Loving Hermione Granger has indeed made him a better man."" Pansy mouthed along as Ginny read out her closing passage. "Fuck." Ginny shot the dark-haired woman another glance. "You're a good writer Parkinson." she nodded. "I even like the bitchy columns you write about Astoria Greengrass' Back acne."

"It's her sister that comes to me with that." Pansy rolled her eyes.

"I knew you two would get on." Hermione Granger had stepped out from behind the curtain completely unnoticed. Ginny wondered how long Hermione had been standing there but stopped in her musings as she took her friend in.

"Hermione." Ginny gasped, standing up and hugging herself, feeling suddenly very female. "Is that your Yule Ball dress?" If it was, it had been seriously altered, nearly all of the frill removed in lieu of a less busy but more mature gown. The capped sleeves had been replaced by something off the shoulder, the loose bust more structured now with a subtle boning in the body and the skirts were less frilly but much longer. Most noticeable was the colour.

"Violet?" Ginny asked

"periwinkle blue", Hermione, Pansy and Madame Malkin all said at once.

"For him," Hermione grinned and blushed, "thought I'd give him that dance, finally."

"He's going to love it." Pansy nodded, feeling suddenly a little choked up on behalf of her old friend Draco.

"When it comes time for the wedding, I'm your woman? Yes?" Madame Malkin eyed her handy work with pride, knowing her dress would be on the front cover of every newspaper come Sunday.

"He's not proposed yet." Hermione laughed and shook her head.

"That's a weird way of saying we've only been going out for a handful of weeks, " Ginny chuckled. "Are you and Malfoy talking about marriage?" Ginny looked dubious.

"We're not, not talking about it." Hermione tried to obfuscate, "Oh, is that the magazine? Can I look?"

THE WEEK BEFORE:

"Draco?" Hermione rolled over and watched as he slept on his stomach. His face squished into the pillow, his mouth slightly agape as a rivulet of spit ran from his mouth. "I need you to wake up." She spoke as she used the sleeve of her nightshirt to dab at his spit.

"What?" Draco grumbled. His circadian rhythm hated any and all disruptions.

"Are you awake?" She asked with a slight chuckle.

"You know I'm not." He groused and pulled her into him. Thinking perhaps he could squeeze her back to sleep.

"I'm having doubts." She spoke after a few seconds of silence.

"About us?" He asked, very much awake now.

"No." She tilted her head back fully and kissed his chin, the only place on his face she could reach "The magazine, the photoshoot, the interview and the coming out." She breathed into his neck, "It all seems a bit much."

"It was your idea!" He laughed, rolling onto his back, pulling her flush on top of him.

"I know that." Hermione shuffled up his body and rested her chin on her arms, folded across his shoulder blades. "I don't want people to think I'm hiding you."

"so you've opted to parade me?" he smirked. "You're a woman of extremes, my love, and I'm all for it."

"When I was with Ron… I didn't realise how different we wanted our lives to be. He had one idea, and I had another, and never the twain did meet" Hermione looked down at the man she'd fallen head over heels for and felt her stomach lurch with fear. "What if we want different things?" She let her fingertips dance over his collar bone as she chewed her lip. He didn't speak. He watched her as she picked at the thread of worry that kept her up. "What if we go out there and announce our love, and then I find out you never want children in three months?" She babbled as tears welled in her eyes.

"Of course, I want children." He cooed, pushing himself to sit up, forcing her to straddle his thighs.

"How many?" Hermione asked gently as she felt his fingers splay against her hips reassuringly.

"I want more than two, as many as you'll give me." He muttered, kissing the shell of her ear. "I hated being an only child. I was very lonely," Draco confessed, moving his lips slowly to the column of her neck.

"I felt the same way," She breathed, finding her anxiety soothed away with his gentle kisses and soft caress. She ground down on him.

"If I get married, I want to keep working." She moaned, reaching between them and releasing him from the restraints of his boxers.

" When we get married, I'll support whatever you decide to do with your time. I love your brain, Granger, more than even your arse in a pencil skirt. I don't want either of those assets to go to waste." He gripped said arse and squeezed hard, eliciting a broken cry from her throat.

"So you're thinking about marriage?" She breathed as she dragged herself up against his erection, pressed against his belly.

"You understand the world I come from, love. You had to know I'd be thinking about it." he grabbed her chin and tilted her mouth to his, kissing her deeply.

"You have to meet my parents before you propose," she lifted her hips and guided him to her entrance, sliding down him with a sigh. "And we'll need to do two weddings, a muggle one and a magical one." She held him inside her, not moving, staring up at him.

"You fit me perfectly." He made no attempt to move her, relishing in the feel of her wet heat engulfing him. She tightened her walls around him and watched as he bucked beneath her. "Three weddings," he gasped. "I want a private binding before the public one" he dug his fingers into her thighs.

"Deal." She nodded and rocked against him. "If you propose…."

"When I propose," He corrected, leaning forward to nip at her neck.

"I'll need to make some business disclosures to you, and we'll have to consult a financial advisor," she spoke matter-of-factly as she increased the pace of her rocking.

"What business?" He chuckled, flipping them and pushing her back into the mattress. She wrapped her legs around him, still holding him inside her.

"None of yours." She answered with a sly grin, which soon became a moan when he freed his hips from her embrace and snapped into her with force.

"I'll never be ok sharing you," Hermione spoke suddenly, her voice more serious. Ron had suggested an 'open arrangement' when their relationship had started to show cracks. "If you have some notion of turning this into a relationship where you see other people, I'll never accept that." He stilled inside her.

"That will never happen, my love." He nearly growled.

"Even when I'm fat from all the babies?" she laughed nervously.

"I had hoped to hide this from you until I had you locked down, my love." He spread her legs, pressing her knees back on either side of her, careful not to push too far. "The very thought of you, carrying my baby, makes me almost instantaneously combust, Granger." he drove into her as he spoke. "The mere notion of you, heavy and full of me…." He didn't get to finish his thoughts as a shiver broke across his spine, and his thrusting became erratic. "After we make love, and I see myself leaking out of you, I have to physically hold myself back from pushing my cum back into your body." Hermione fluttered around him. Pregnancy had never played a positive role in her mind during sex. It was always a fear and never a promising aphrodisiac. "And when you are Pregnant, Granger," He leaned his whole body on hers, pressing hungry kisses on her mouth as his hips continued to buck into hers. "I won't be one of those men afraid to fuck his wife. I'm going to take care of you, so…" Hermione did not hear how well Malfoy intended to look after her when pregnant as a scream of intense pleasure ripped from her throat. She flailed beneath him as she clamped down internally and rode the wave of one of the most intense orgasms she'd had. Thanks to the promises of the man she loved. His own release followed soon after hers. "fuckety-fuck". As he withdrew from her and rolled to the side, he felt her hand grab his, pushing it between her legs, stoppering their liquids inside of her.

"You don't have to hold yourself back from doing that." Hermione turned and grinned at him. "I'm on the potion, so it makes no difference, but I like the idea." she beamed.

"So we're on the same page?" He asked with a chuckle, moving his fingers gently and teasing a second orgasm from her.

"Uh-hu," she stuttered, her hips tilting into his touch.

A/N Em... are we ready for the ball? Also 32 chapters in and I realise I'm writing some Harry Potter version of Bridgerton! Also, Pansy will meet George and I'm going to feel it out. Can I say once again how much I appreciate your reviews? I can and I will.