Chapter 4
“Hey, guys! Ron, Harry’s in the den. I’ll just be a second Gin, and then we can go.” Hermione stated as she went to grab her jacket and handbag while her friends dusted themselves off. It was the day before the dreaded marriage announcements and everyone was dealing with the stress in their own ways. Ginny was dragging her on a last-minute ‘spend and pamper’ session and Harry and Ron were playing video games.
“You better not have started without me mate!” Ron hollered as he rushed into the other room. Hermione and Ginny smirked at each other.
“Boys.” They said simultaneously. Harry had purchased a PlayStation 2 a few weeks ago and ever since he and Ron had been binge playing all of the games they could get their hands on. These last few days all she had been able to hear in the house was the noise of sirens and gunfire while the boys screamed at the TV playing Grand Theft Auto 3 (or GTA as Ron had started referring to it). The girls headed to the fireplace. “Where are we going again?” Hermione asked as she grabbed a handful of floo powder.
“Genotham Street, it’s the wizard centre near Nine Streets in Amsterdam.”
“Right.” Ginny flooed first and Hermione followed as the boys started yelling about something on the TV. They arrived in a well kept little cafe as people milling around sent little waves their way.
“Ok,” Ginny started as they exited the shop. “If we head right up here at ‘Suiker Gecoat’ we should be able to take a left through the back of De9heren and reach the main streets. I say we start with Killafornia Syndicate, make our way through the other stores, stop for lunch, and then head to our appointments at Five Cities Spa.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Hermione replied as they made their way to the city.
DRACO'S POV:
Draco sat in his favourite chair in his father’s study, drinking his eleventh or twelfth glass of Ogden's Finest Firewhisky of the day. He stared out the window at his parents in the garden, for once envious of the affection they held for one another. Oh, they never showed it publicly (or really in front of him either) but it was noticeable in the small things. Like how his father remembered his mother’s very specific tea preference (Assam tea brewed to just this side of under steeped, add a half spoon of white sugar and stir four times, add a dash of milk and stir three times, and add one more quarter spoon of sugar and stir six times), or how his mother knew when his father needed a break when they had company and conveniently needed him to collect something from the other room (like they were peasants who didn’t own house-elves or something). If you had asked him a month ago, he’d have told you flat out that he had no clue if his parent held affection for one another and he had no desire to marry. Was in no rush to find a girlfriend either. He’d found out rather quickly in Hogwarts that when you had money, girls tended to get very clingy and drape themselves over you in adoration to get to your galleons. The only long term girlfriend he’d had who wasn’t like that had been Pansy Parkinson, but she had her own vault full of galleons. Of course, they had parted ways in a spectacular blowout when she realised he had no intention of getting married any time soon and he realised that she was a stick in the mud, shrieking harpy of a witch. She was always nagging him about something, ‘Draco don’t drink so much, it’s going to destroy your liver,’ ‘Draco why don’t you ever call me except when you want to shag,’ blah blah blah. He was sick of it and apparently she was sick of him (if the way she’d screamed and thrown things were any indicators upon their break up).
However, since the announcement of this blasted ministry bill, he was thinking he’d royally screwed up in not marrying the witch. He took another swig of his drink as his parents entwined their fingers at the garden table while his mother read some novel and his father looked over the paper. If he’d been in the room they wouldn’t dare touch each other so openly. It wasn’t proper decorum. But when they believed themselves to be alone, it was perfectly fine to be affectionate with one another. Something he doubted would be possible with him and his soon to be wife. Whoever she was. He'd always known he’d have an arranged marriage someday, everyone in his circles did. It kept the bloodlines pure (not that that mattered much these days). As far as he knew, his parents had been in talks with Rhiannon Greengrass to marry him off to her youngest, Astoria. At least with her, he’d been able to envision a future. Sure, it would be stuffy and insufferable, they’d barely talk, he’d likely wind up with a mistress or two while she cared for his heir, and she’d have a so-called ‘secret boyfriend’ while they pretended they didn’t know the other was being unfaithful. But it was what he’d been raised expecting. Aside from his parents, that's how all the adults who were married behaved in his life. It was a very poorly kept secret that everybody knew about. But at least he’d know his bride. At least Astoria knew the score, and how to behave as his wife. Now he had to deal with the fact that he could end up with some bint with a stick up her arse about ‘being faithful’, or someone who wanted to be touchy-feely all the time. He’d been stewing about it for weeks now, how he’d end up with someone awful just so the ministry could spite him for getting off with just probation after the war. Compatibility tests, ha! He thought as he stood to pour himself yet more alcohol (his parents had already threatened to cut off his supply and demanded that as soon as this bottle was gone he sober up). Draco knew what that was code for. That meant the ministry needed more people to get knocked up so they were just going to stick people together while maintaining the facade of actually trying to make ‘happy families’. No, they wouldn’t give him someone compatible, they’d force him with someone they knew would drive him batty, like Loony Lovegood or Hermione Granger. But it wouldn’t be one of them. No, they’d never force one of the ‘goody good’ war heroines to marry a death eater. But he just knew that was the kind of wife he’d end up with. He plopped back down in his chair and brought the glass up to his temple, rubbing the cool drink against his forehead where he could feel an alcohol migraine forming. He smirked in knowing that while the ministry would surely fuck him over, his future entended wouldn’t know what hit her.
HERMIONE’S POV:
“Ginny, I'm not going in there.” Hermione was putting her foot down. She’d been shopping all day (something she loathed to do) and she was cranky from the spa treatment. The first half had been relaxing, a nice mud bath and massage, some nice smelling oils and a facial. But then the she-devil who was taking care of her showed her true colours. Or should she say, Ginny’s true colours, as Ginny was the one who'd made the reservations? She was enjoying herself one minute and crying out in unexpected agony in the next. She’d spent the better part of two hours being plucked and waxed and prodded. They’d also done up her hair, giving the mess a slight trim and defrizzing that was supposed to last for three or four months. Ok, so that part hadn’t been so bad. But the waxing and the plucking she was still steamed about. Now she was sore in places she didn’t know could be sore in a bad way, her eyebrows hurt, she was carrying several bags of clothing Ginny had bought but didn’t have the arm space for and a few of her own, and she just wanted to go home. Instead, her supposed friend was trying to get her to go into a store called Marjolaine that sold exclusively high-end lingerie and Hermione was not having it.
“Oh come on Mione!” Ginny said as she pulled the brunette through the door. “Quit whining. Harry said we could buy whatever we wanted, without having to pay him back I might add, and I would like us to get something we feel sexy in to help get us in the mood when we meet our new beaus tomorrow. Come on, at least look around!” Hermione groaned at the red head’s pulling (she was a lot stronger than she looked thanks to all that quidditch conditioning) and conceded to going in.
“Fine, but I’m not wearing any of this shite for some man I just met. I'll look but only because I’ve been meaning to get some new bras.”
“Are you ladies looking for anything in particular today?” A leggy blonde in a pencil skirt asked as they came to a stop in the front section of the store.
“No.”
“Yes.” The girl’s said simultaneously. Ginny turned to glare at her friend before continuing, “We’re both getting married in the next month and we want something wicked that will really turn on the grooms.”
“Well, we can certainly help with that. Come right this way.” The shop woman led them into a back corner of the store where some changing rooms were set up. Hermione shivered as they walked through a veil of some kind and she realised the shop was at least partly magic. “We offer a free consultation with every purchase if you’d be interested. We provide tips for finding what fits your body type, colour matching, and free champagne. But since you’re both exclusive clientele,” she pulled a wand out of her sleeve before reinserting it, “we can also offer magical discounts,” the woman finished with a wink. Hermione rolled her eyes while Ginny looked on, intrigued.
“Like what?” The redhead asked, grabbing a glass of champagne and handing one to Hermione as the girls sat on the red pleather chairs outside of the curtains. The apparent witch conjured up a catalogue called ‘Naughty Bits’ and handed it to them. They flipped through while she provided context to what each enchantment did.
“The Frigus Package keeps your downstairs pleasantly cool, this is especially handy for long bouts of foreplay to prevent overheating... The Mico add-on can be used on our tops and our bottoms to allow for vibrations with a simple word or phrase of your choosing...the Subtraxerim Utilium Package will shrink any article of clothing once it’s on your body to that really tight, almost ripping, fit without allowing the fabric to break.” She pointed to each product in the catalogue as she explained. When the booklet was finished she moved on to asking the girls about their favourite colours and explaining what would look best on their body types in terms of clothing and such (basque sets, bodies, and corsets in olive, ivory, navy, or grey for Ginny, and basques, corsets, and bustiers for Hermione in pink, emerald, sapphire, or burgundy). When she was through she left them to shop. They started out searching on their own, however, after an hour and a handful of drinks they were giving each other mini fashion shows and critiques on some of the outfits they wore. Ginny started out in a pale navy coloured lace basque set that covered her nipples but was cut out around the breasts and exposed below the naval until it covered her nether regions. It was put in the maybe pile before Hermione tried on a green one that was silk up the sides but lace in the breasts and down the centre of her stomach with lace knickers. The girls tried on a couple more in that style before Ginny tried on a bodysuit in grey mesh with ivory scallop trim.
“I like how I look in this one but it’s not really practical for sex is it? It took me five minutes to get on and it’s bound to take a whole lot more time to get the bloody thing off.” Ginny said while she turned in front of the mirrors, examining it from all sides and pulling at the arse region where it was cut rather highly.
“No, I don’t think it is. Try something else.” Mione replied while looking at herself in a burgundy bustier. It had open underwire cups and was made of really soft satin with front tie closure. “What do you think of this one? I feel like I’m going to fall out the bottom and expose my whole breast.”
“I think you look sexy,” Ginny smirked before heading back into the changing cubicle. “But if you aren’t comfortable don’t get it,” she shouted as she started changing again. Hermione turned and walked back into her own cubby. They carried on like this for quite some time, occasionally getting Sanne’s (the shop owner’s name as they’d found out around the two-hour mark when she brought them a platter of finger sandwiches) feedback. The space they were in was secluded from muggle view so they could prance around as they pleased without worry. Eventually, they both ended up back in their clothes and with a number of purchases each. Ginny was getting a navy embroidered lace and satin bustier with the sides cut out and a push-up top, and a few basques including the first one she’d tried. Hermione was purchasing fewer items, which included a couple of bustiers, a basque, and her personal favourite an emerald green corset with moulded cups, removable spaghetti straps, and a lace hem. It also had some really flattering boning and princess seams that accentuated her figure nicely. They brought their purchases up to the front to ring up, a total of 16 outfits between the two of them.
“All set ladies?” Sanne asked them as she started ringing up the lingerie. “I hope you found everything all right today, will you be paying in Euros, Fusiekroons, or Galleons?”
“Galleons, please. Unless you accept credit?” Ginny asked as she finished buttoning her shirt.
“Credit it is. Just so you know we do have a three per cent surcharge for using a card. Is that still ok?” She had finished ringing everything up and Hermione’s eyes were bugging out at the price. How could they possibly have purchased 500 Euros worth of clothing?
“Uh, Gin-”
“Yes, that's fine.” The redhead agreed, handing over her ex-boyfriend's credit card. When Hermione had told Harry about Ginny’s plan to shop till they drop before being forced down the aisle, he’d simply encouraged her to go and told her all of their purchases for the day were on him. No spending limit or anything. She suspected he was still trying to get back in her good graces from his mishap with the whole marriage law business (he was already forgiven but she wanted to make him sweat a little longer).
“Ginny, that’s a lot of money. Maybe we should put some items back?” She asked her friend.
“Mione, it’s fine. We never go out together, it’s our last chance to be frivolous and Harry’s footing the bill. We know he can afford it since he’s got all of his parents and Sirius’ money in his vault. Normally, yes, I’d say we should be frugal and go thrifting and not buy anything this high end. But given that we’re about to marry people we don’t know, who could be huge wankers, I think we deserve to treat ourselves.”
“Amen to that sister.” Sanne agreed. “My cousin Rachel lives in Blackpool and she’s been complaining all about your country’s marriage enforcement to me. It’s a crime that they’re allowed to make such laws.” She said, handing back the credit card and their bags.
“Agreed,” Ginny answered. Hermione sighed, knowing her friend was right. They said their goodbyes and headed back to the floo sight. When they walked into the living room of Grimmauld, Ron and Harry could be heard laughing from the kitchen so the girls headed that way.
“We’re back!” Ginny called as they interrupted the boys.
“What, done with your game already? It’s only been 14 hours!” Hermione said with a chuckle.
“We finished the story about ten minutes ago so we’re taking a break,” Harry answered.
“What’s all that?” Ron asked, motioning to their bags.
“Some clothes, a few new potions, take away from lunch, some lingerie-” Ginny started.
“Oh, ew! Bloody hell, Ginny, you’re my little sister! I don’t need to know that you’re buying lingerie!” Ron cried, turning bright red.
“Ron, we’re all about to be forced into marriages with the sole intent of producing babies. Having babies requires sex. Lingerie helps with sex as you well remember. Not like this is news.” Hermione called from the fridge as she put the food away.
“La, la, la. I can’t hear you.” Ron shouted, his hands over his ears and his eyes shut tight. “We are not having this conversation. You have said nothing. I have heard nothing.”
“Oh, honestly Ron!” Hermione giggled as the girls headed up the stairs. They got ready for bed before lying down in Mione’s full and saying good night.
“Mione?”
“Yeah, Gin?” Hermione asked with a yawn, looking over in the dark.
“What do you think will happen after tomorrow?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean...after we all get paired off. Are we suddenly going to become property? Like chattel, forced to go and do as our master says? I know I’ve kind of been making jokes and talking about the good things that could happen with this law, but I’m kind of terrified. I’m only 20 years old, I’m not ready to have control of my life taken away from me again when I’ve only just started learning how to be myself.”
“I hope not Ginny. But I don’t know. Sure, this law has made a lot of progress already over the last one Britain passed and the ones in India and parts of Africa that currently exist; but, it still doesn’t give us much protection. I have no clue what will happen after we’re forced to marry whoever we have to marry.”
“I thought you knew everything,” Ginny half-joked to clear out some of the tension.
“Everyone thinks so, but if I knew everything then there’d be nothing left to learn. And where’s the fun in that?” They both chuckled at this. “In all honesty though, I’m just hoping and praying to anyone that’ll listen that we get paired with some decent guys. I know Ron and Harry will at least treat their wives properly, it’s you and me that I’m worried about.”
“I sometimes wish I was still with Harry, or that we’d gone ahead and gotten ourselves married. Like Mum suggested after the announcements.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“It just...lost its spark, y’know? It was fun for a little while, I used to wake up excited to see him and go to sleep missing him even when he was right next to me. But after a little while, I realised; he was just always there. I wasn’t looking for him when I was doing other things. I wasn’t coming home and immediately asking him about his day or seeking him out in the house. He became more like my roommate than my boyfriend. I still love him, obviously, and the sex was fantastic. I mean, seriously the things that guy can do with his tongue, **mmm** and don’t even get me started on his fingering skills,” Mione cringed a bit at the knowledged but kept her mouth shut as Ginny fantasized. “But sex will only get you so far. When you start doing it to avoid talking, it kinda gets old. Even if you are orgasming, it’s just...not fun, you know?”
“I get it. I mean, Ron was never that good in bed. I hardly ever came, but that was more because he was over-attentive than anything else. He would slow down or stop what he was doing to ask if it was ok for me. And when I would outright tell him, ‘yes, right there do that,’ or ‘don’t stop’ he’d speed up or something and the feeling would go away. But at least he was always trying.” She trailed off, thinking that their bedroom life was the only part of the relationship that actually lacked passion.
“Ok, one, ew. Did not need to know that.”
“Well, I didn’t need to know about Harry either!” Hermione laughed.
“And two,” Ginny said forcefully but with a smile in her voice. “It’s kind of sweet that he wanted to make it good for you.”
“Oh, it was sweet, no doubt about it. He had his moments. But I need someone who’ll take charge in the bedroom. I don’t want a wet rag who has to keep stopping to see if they’re doing something right. I want fire, and passion, and toe-curling orgasmic bliss. I couldn’t get that with Ron.”
“Was that why you broke up?”
“It was a factor but no. If that was all that was wrong with our relationship, I could have sucked it up. That’s what vibrators are for. Plenty of women are happily married to guys who can’t fulfil them in the bedroom.”
“Well, maybe at least the sex will be good in our marriages. If nothing else, we’ll have that.”
“Is it too much to ask for more, though? I don’t want just passion in the bedroom. I want a best friend and a partner and so much more than I can get with this stupid law. They're robbing me of my right to find a guy who will be that.”
“I get it. But maybe their tests will work and we’ll get all that too.” Ginny said softly, as she drifted towards sleep.
“I don’t think so,” Hermione whispered back brokenly. Was she asking for too much? Maybe. But that should be between her and her boyfriends. Not between her and the ministry and her betrothed. She fell asleep with a pillow hugged to her chest. Her sleep fitful and her mind full of nightmares about what tomorrow might bring.
～Edited 18th Apr, 2022