Chapter 7
Draco was *determined* to have the perfect baby shower.
And, of course, that meant Pansy and Narcissa were deeply involved in the planning. Between the three of them, they had already chosen an elegant venue, a refined guest list, and a theme that would be both luxurious and tasteful.
But Draco had an idea—one that made Pansy raise an eyebrow and Narcissa pause in consideration.
“I want to invite Hermione and Mrs. Weasley into the planning,” Draco said, sitting up straighter in the drawing room.
Pansy snorted. “Granger? Really?”
“Yes, *really*,” Draco shot back, rolling his eyes. “She’s Harry’s best friend. And Mrs. Weasley—she’s practically his mother. It would be *wrong* not to include them.”
Narcissa tapped a manicured finger against her chin, considering. “It would certainly help bridge the gap between our families,” she mused. “And while I may not agree with all of Molly Weasley’s… choices, she is a well-respected matriarch.”
Pansy huffed. “Fine. But if Granger tries to turn this into some kind of *progressive equality celebration* instead of a *baby shower*, I’m hexing her.”
Draco rolled his eyes again but smirked. “I’ll be sure to warn her.”
—
The next day, Draco invited Hermione and Mrs. Weasley to tea, keeping things as civil as possible. He expected some resistance, especially from Hermione, but to his surprise, they both agreed without much fuss.
“I think it’s wonderful that you want to include us, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said warmly, reaching out to pat Draco’s hand. “After all, we’re family now, aren’t we?”
Draco blinked, momentarily thrown off by the genuine kindness in her voice.
“…Yes,” he said after a pause. “I suppose we are.”
Hermione smiled. “I’d be happy to help. Though, knowing you, Draco, I assume you already have half the event planned.”
Draco smirked. “Of course. But I *suppose* I can let you contribute something.”
The planning moved quickly after that. Hermione ensured there were activities that would make *everyone* comfortable, while Mrs. Weasley insisted on adding more homey, personal touches that balanced out Draco and Narcissa’s more *extravagant* ideas.
By the end of the meeting, Draco felt surprisingly content.
Maybe, just maybe, this blending of families wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The baby shower was perfect.
Draco wouldn’t have accepted anything less.
The venue was nothing short of stunning—an elegant garden filled with floating lanterns and soft silk drapery, charmed to sway gently in the breeze. The colors were a refined mix of silver, pale blue, and soft gold, creating an atmosphere that felt both luxurious and warm.
Pansy had handled the guest list with precision, ensuring only the *right* people were invited—close friends, family, and those who mattered. Hermione had added thoughtful little details, like a memory book where guests could write their well wishes for the baby. Mrs. Weasley, much to everyone’s delight, had insisted on bringing homemade treats, which even Narcissa had to admit were *exceptional*.
And Draco?
Draco had never felt more radiant.
He was dressed in the finest robes—silken, flowing, and tailored perfectly to accommodate his growing belly. Everywhere he turned, people were showering him with compliments, gifts, and affectionate smiles. Even Lucius, despite his usual stoicism, had placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder and murmured something about how proud he was.
But the best part of it all was Harry.
Harry had barely left Draco’s side all evening. He looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world, his touches gentle, his words filled with warmth.
At one point, while Draco was laughing with Pansy and Hermione, Harry came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his temple.
“You happy?” Harry murmured.
Draco leaned back into his embrace, his fingers resting over Harry’s.
“Completely,” he whispered.
And he meant it.
This—*this*—was everything he had ever wanted.