The Baby Deal

Chapter Fourteen

A/N 5-16-20: If you've read the Baby Deal previously and you're revisiting it for Chapter Fourteen, I suggest you re-read the first thirteen chapters since there has been a large amount of revision from me, post hiatus. Otherwise, you might be very, very, very confused.

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A sharp stab of pain brought me out of my fog of numbness, somewhere near my elbow. I blinked back to the present, wincing as I registered the sound of the seamstress tripping over her apologies as she withdrew the pin from my silk-covered arm. Draco's mother snapped something at the poor lady as she circled like a vulture, watching the seamstress coldly as the woman tried to pin the sleeve back more carefully this time.

The sleeve of a dress.

Of my wedding dress.

The thought should have been alarming, really, but I couldn't muster up the emotion. Had I felt more alive at the moment, there were many different ways I would have reacted. I might have begun squirming and wiggled my way out of the silks and skirts and Merlin knows what else. I would have screamed that I would never marry Malfoy - that this whole thing was ridiculous.

Or, if I was enthusiastic about the turn of events, I would have sighed contentedly at the image of myself in the mirrors surrounding the three of us. From the reflection, I could see every angle of this dress that my future mother-in-law had commissioned to be designed for me on short notice. 

Despite her faults, the dress was beautiful. It was a picture right out of a Cinderella story - a white ball gown with a faint sheen of gold that flared out in surprisingly light layers that skimmed the floors weightlessly. The sleeves were off the shoulder and quartered, covering the little prick I'd received earlier and the neckline was modest. 

In this dress, I really could be the Gryffindor Princess that everyone claimed that I was.

"... perhaps we should switch the colors from silver, white, and green to gold, white, and champagne," Mrs. Malfoy was saying, anger forgotten, as she looked at a clipboard full of wedding plans that floated dutifully beside her. A puffy black quill was quickly taking notes - of what, I wasn't sure. She continued after an expectant pause, "I'm as loyal a Slytherin as the next Pureblood, but champagne would just look so much better against your dark hair and would really bring out Draco's eyes. And the gold on your dress is just beautiful."

Mrs. Malfoy had changed drastically since the little parental meeting. Her hair had gone from hanging silkily past her shoulders to being pinned in a sleek and tight chignon constantly. Her eyes, too, were tired and gaunt most days and her mouth was constantly pressed into a purse line. Her temper was short as well and she was a pain to be around with all of this wedding nonsense. 

When they were finally done with this week's measurements, I raised my arms and closed my eyes, feeling my face burn with embarrassment. The first time I'd tried to change by myself, my future mother-in-law had thrown a fit about me potentially ruining the dress. She didn't say it outright, but I had the feeling that it had to do with the fact that I was a muggleborn and old prejudices die slowly.

The silk slid over my body and was gone. Before I could even shiver, my clothing reappeared on me and I opened my eyes. Mrs. Malfoy and the seamstress were talking about spells that could hide any potential baby bump during the wedding and seemed intent in their conversation, so I seized my chance and slipped out of the suite, quietly shutting the door behind me. 

It had been a few weeks since the events at the manor. Since then, the Order had decided that housing Mrs. Malfoy at an undisclosed location was the safest option for her. All I knew about it was that Dumbledore was the Secret-Keeper and Mrs. Malfoy had been permitted to use the fireplace in the location to Floo in to Hogwarts during the weekend to visit her son and... me.