Chapter Text
“I’m telling you, Lily,” Hermione grinned, rolling her eyes. “Your son is completely arse-over-tits for Draco Malfoy!”
Harry buried his face in his hands. Sirius patted him on the back.
“I hate you,” he ground out. “So much.”
“No, you don’t,” Hermione said briskly. “Besides, it’s not like it’s a secret. You are so obvious about it, it’s almost painful.”
“Well,” Harry heard his mother say, “if he’s anything like James was at school, he’s not bound to be subtle.”
“Hey!” James called, making Sirius snicker. “Really, though, Harry? A Malfoy?” he asked, sounding sceptical.
“That’s what I said,” he piped up.
“He’s not like his father at all,” Harry said defensively, resurfacing from the fort his hands had provided to glower half-heartedly at everyone. “He’s funny and clever and loyal.”
“See?” Hermione said, wiggling her eyebrows.
“To be fair, Harry is correct,” Remus came to Harry’s aid. “Draco has developed into his own person, free of the prejudice his parents tried to instil in him.”
“And Harry wants to shag him,” Ron said matter-of-factly, making Harry let out a choked noise.
“They do seem rather touchy,” Remus conceded, making Harry slump back in his chair in defeat.
“It’s not just me, though!” he whined. “Draco is flirting back!”
“Well, I wouldn’t count what you do as ‘flirting’,” Hermione said, rather unkindly, Harry felt. “You’re a bit like a puppy in his presence. Eager to please, to receive and to give affection.”
“Ouch,” Sirius said, sounding impressed.
“You’re hanging out entirely too much with Millie,” Harry frowned. “It’s rubbing off on you.”
“Coddling you is getting you nowhere,” Hermione shrugged, unperturbed. “Draco is clever . He knows how to play you. It’s time you got your act together, Harry.”
“Seems like my estranged cousin is quite something,” Sirius pursed his lips. “Makes me almost regret cutting all ties with my family.”
“Well, maybe, if Harry and Draco get together, you can meet him and mend fences,” Lily smiled. James opened his mouth, but when his wife elbowed him in the ribs, he closed it again.
Harry, on the other hand, had flushed noticeably. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask Draco out. He really, really wanted to. He just didn’t know how.
Things had just fallen into such an easy routine between them. Ever since one of their fights in second year had ended in a shared detention that had somehow forced them to bond, they had come out at the other end of it not only friendly but pretty much attached by the hip.
The people in their direct surroundings hadn’t trusted the peace, at first. Ron had kept picking fights with Draco, then he’d started becoming jealous, thinking he was being replaced. Hermione had started a weird competition with Draco, trying to shut him up with knowledge and becoming weirdly sulky whenever Draco knew something she didn’t. Pansy had tried to make up unfavourable rumours about Harry to get Draco to back off. Blaise and Theo had tried to hex Harry when Draco wasn’t around.
The only ones who’d adapted quickly had been Greg and Vince. Draco had announced that they were friends with Harry now, and they had shrugged and offered Harry a cupcake. Sometimes, things were just that easy.
It had taken until fourth year for everyone to bloody calm down. By then, Hermione had realised that, rather than competing against Draco and the other Slytherins, joining ranks with them was way more beneficial for her academic goals. Ron had found a shared passion for chess with Blaise. And so, after a tense period of nearly one and a half years, their friend groups had finally merged organically, and Harry and Draco could start hanging out with each other without getting into arguments with their friends.
That was when it had started. Draco had always been an affectionate person. An arm wrapped around Blaise’s shoulder, leaning against Pansy’s side as he read something - those were normal gestures with people he felt comfortable around.
Only with Harry, it had sort of escalated. And Harry didn’t want it to stop.
“Have you heard from him over Christmas?” his mother asked Harry, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You never bring him around over the holidays. We wouldn’t mind, you know.”
“He’s always busy with his family,” Harry frowned. “You know how the Malfoys are. Always throwing one social event after the other, and Draco gets roped into them.”
“Right,” Harry’s father rolled his eyes. “All their little pureblood parties.”
“They’re charities, James,” Lily sighed. “Narcissa Malfoy has an important fund supporting war victims and their families.”
“Still, they only invite rich pureblood families to their little soirees, don’t they?” her husband muttered. “They’re just stamping a good cause on their elitism.”
Harry kept silent. He knew Draco’s parents were a piece of work and that Draco’s father had even worked with You-Know-Who in the war, though he claimed he had been under the Imperius Curse. Even Draco didn’t know whether or not he had been lying. “I don’t really want to know, either,” he’d told Harry, his face pinched. “I don’t really want to have that conversation with him.” And Harry couldn’t blame him. Draco knew he was conflicted about his parents’ beliefs and the traditions they upheld; while he did believe that wizarding traditions should be protected, he’d come to realise that the whole concept of pureblood elitism was just a construct of oppression. He’d had long, tiring discussions about it with Hermione, tucked into Harry’s side after he had snuck into the Gryffindor common room.
“Poor boy,” Sirius shook his head, topping up his drink. “I remember what it was like. I hated those parties. The people there.”
“That’s what Draco always says,” Harry agreed. “He can deal with the dancing and the socialising, but the people are just awful most of the time.”
“Poor kid,” Remus grimaced. “He’s a good boy and he seems so much brighter since he’s taken up with you. I hope his parents won’t push him into anything he’s not ready for after graduation.”
Harry nodded, his chest feeling a bit tight at the thought. Draco had once confessed to Harry when Harry had stayed over in the Slytherin quarters and they’d been the only ones left in the common room, the green light of the lake eerily illuminating the room, that if he could do anything he wanted, he would become an Unspeakable and work in the Department of Mysteries. “I like riddles,” he’d smiled at Harry. “I like secrets, and they’re working with the biggest secrets in Wizarding Britain.”
“Then why don’t you do it?” Harry had asked. “You’d surely get the grades.”
Draco sighed. “I don’t think my parents would approve,” he shrugged. “I’m not supposed to become an employee. Malfoys don’t get employed. We employ. ”
Harry had frowned at him, feeling like there was still so much about Draco’s world that he didn’t understand, and hating it.
As usual, Harry didn’t see Draco again until the end of the winter holidays. They wrote letters, exchanged Christmas gifts, but they never met up the way Harry met up with Ron or Hermione, as much as he wanted to. So his relief was all the bigger when Draco sashayed into their compartment on the way back to Hogwarts, perfectly put together and with an easy smile on his face.
No, Harry’s heart did not stop at the sight. Shut up.
“We need bigger compartments,” he announced, looking around only to realise that all seats were taken by their friends. “This is getting ridiculous.” Then, he proceeded to walk over to Harry and sit on his lap unceremoniously. Harry caught him on muscle memory, despite his heart having jumped back into motion and beating out of his chest now. His arms wrapped around Draco’s waist and pulled him against his chest until Draco sat more securely.
“Right,” Draco said. “What’s up with you lot? I need news from people who aren’t friends with my parents.”
“Nice, Draco,” Pansy glared.
“I love you, Pansy, and your presence was a saving grace in a viciously burning hell, but yes, you are included in that statement. So are you, Blaise. And Theo, when he honours us with his presence. Greg and Vince aren’t listening, so I won’t bother.”
Greg and Vince were indeed talking to Luna on the ground. Greg was wearing a strange pair of glasses that seemed to have come from the Quibbler .
“The Burrow is a madhouse because it’s turned into a wedding planning centre,” Ron grumbled.
“I still can’t believe your brother is marrying Fleur Delacour,” Blaise noted with a smirk. “Go him.”
“Well, he’s hot,” Draco pursed his lips. “Did you see his photo?”
“Please don’t, Malfoy,” Ron groaned.
“You have such a weird fascination with Weasley’s older brothers,” Theo said as he entered the compartment, Susan in tow because apparently, they were missing a Hufflepuff. They folded in on the ground next to Luna. It was a bit like that game Dudley used to play. Tetris, Harry thought it had been called.
“It’s a fascinating family,” shrugged. “Two hot brothers, one nutcase, two you’d better cosy up to because they’re going to rule the world one day, and a future English star player.”
“Cheers,” Ginny grinned from the corner.
“Wait, who’s the nutcase?” Ron glared at him. “Me or Percy?”
Draco grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he just said. Then he leaned back against Harry’s chest and turned halfway until he was able to meet his eyes. “How about you?” he asked. “Any news?”
“Nothing much,” Harry shrugged. “Business as usual. You?”
Draco just made a face. “Don’t wanna talk about it,” he said. He turned back to the round. “I stole the expensive chocolate from the Manor, so you can all have some later.”
He was greeted by cheers in response and he turned back to Harry with a smirk. Harry’s stomach twisted.
Merlin, but Hermione was right. He was gone.
For the next weeks, things went mostly back to their status quo. Sure, Hermione pestered them all about NEWTs revision and Harry cycled deeper and deeper into his despair about fancying Draco, but other than that, everything was perfectly normal.
That was until Draco let a bomb drop that screwed Harry’s life over with the force of one of the Weasley twin’s stink bombs.
It had started out as a normal Sunday. They were sitting out on the grounds, enjoying the first rays of sun March had brought and trying to focus on whatever schedule Hermione had prepared for them. Predictably, one of them had cracked, in this case, Seamus, and he’d started talking about the summer holidays, effectively distracting all of them.
“We should take a trip together,” Seamus suggested. “You know, when all of this is over and we don’t have to worry about school or grades anymore. We can just have fun and party!”
“Yes!” Blaise grinned, predictably all for the idea. He turned to Draco, who was currently resting with his head in Harry’s lap, his book perfunctory resting on his chest. “You have a chateau in France! Let’s all go!”
There was a murmur of agreement from the group, but Draco had tensed. He was grimacing as he raised himself from Harry’s lap. Harry immediately missed his warmth.
“Sorry,” Draco shook his head. “Can’t. My family has plans.”
“Already?!” Pansy groaned. “Merlin, your parents are a pain!”
“Tell me about it,” Draco muttered, his fingers tracing the spine of his book. Harry frowned, elbowing him. Draco only met his eyes hesitantly.
“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay at home?”
“Sure,” Draco shrugged. Harry could tell he was lying. His shoulders were way too tense.
“You’re sure?” Harry asked. “What are they planning for the summer?”
Draco searched his face, not answering. It was Theo who cut in, his voice pained.
“Oh, damn it,” he muttered, staring at Draco in alarm. “Don’t tell me they’re going through with it?”
Draco glanced at him, his lips a tight line. Theo cursed under his breath.
“What?!” Harry asked, an edge to his voice. The rest of the group had fallen silent. He looked at the Slytherins, who seemed to have clued in on Draco’s situation and looked uncomfortable or dismayed. Harry looked between them, frustrated. “What is going on?!”
Draco sighed, looking back at his book - to avoid eye contact, Harry realised.
“My parents are insisting on a proper courting season this summer,” Draco muttered. “That’s why I’ll be unavailable.”
Harry stared at him. “A what?!” he asked.
Draco rolled his eyes. “You know,” he shrugged. “They insist I find a proper pureblood wife, ad sooner rather than later. So they’re starting the courting process.”
“Shit, I forgot your families are still doing that shit,” Ron muttered, sounding aghast. “I mean, I heard about it from my grandmother, but -”
“Not every family does,” Pansy shook her head. “Some families fall back on courting seasons if they feel like their heir has been unmarried for an extensive amount of time. But the Malfoys are very particular about upholding traditions. And I think they are worried about Draco’s beliefs and lifestyle.”
Draco didn’t say anything. He just looked down at his book, his face utterly miserable.
“So, what?” Harry asked, an edge to his voice. “They’re going to force him to marry someone he doesn’t love? That’s sick!”
“It’s not unheard of, in our circles,” Daphne shrugged, though she, too, looked very pale. “Most of our parents met through courting seasons. They insist it’s possible to learn to love each other in the process.”
Harry felt like he was going to throw up. The thought of Draco marrying some prissy pureblood girl was horrific. He turned to Draco. “Can’t you just refuse?”
Draco sighed. “It’s complicated,” he shrugged. “I don’t want to break with my parents entirely.”
“But they’re forcing you into something you don’t want!” Harry insisted.
“They think it’s what’s best for me,” Draco grimaced. “Even if I disagree.” He sighed, glancing up at him. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You come from a different world.”
It cut through Harry like a cutting curse. He avoided his gaze, blinking rapidly.
They were all silent for a long moment.
“I’m sorry,” Draco sighed. “I really wanted to keep it to myself until the end of the school year. I just wanted things to stay normal.” He sounded so miserable it tore at Harry’s heart.
“Well, we can send you off with a bang,” Pansy promised.
Harry heard Draco chuckle, but he still couldn’t bring himself to look up.
Harry went home for the Easter holidays. He desperately needed space from Draco. Things had been weird between them since his announcement, the easy affection giving way to awkward tension. He needed to sort his head.
He also needed to talk to someone who knew Draco’s family situation.
“I see,” Sirius grimaced after Harry was finished explaining. “So basically, he can leave and cut all ties as I did, or he’s fucked.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Harry muttered, hugging his knees close to his chest. “I thought he liked me. I thought we were, you know…”
Harry didn’t finish, but Sirius understood anyway.
“I don’t think it’s a matter of liking you or not,” he said, not unkindly. “It’s a matter of what’s possible or not. In his world, being with you isn’t possible, so he doesn’t pursue it, even if he might want to.”
“That’s stupid,” Harry grumbled.
“Not everyone is a Gryffindor like us,” Remus smiled from the kitchen. “Slytherins aren’t as prone to take risks, Harry, especially with their families.”
“And you have to see it from his side,” Sirius shrugged. “You’re both seventeen. That’s very young. Infatuation might fade. Family ties, on the other hand, that’s a big deal to people like him. He might regret throwing that over for a relationship that won’t work out.”
“You threw it all over!” Harry pointed out.
“Yes, but not for love,” Sirius smiled. “I found love in the process, but I left for myself. There’s a difference.”
“I think,” Remus said, coming to join them on the settee with tea cups and a pot flowing after him and settling on the table in their midst, “if you are serious about him, Harry, you need to play by his parent's rules.”
“What are you talking about?” Harry frowned at him.
“Well,” Remus lifted his eyebrows, lifting his teacup and taking a sip. “Draco is having a courting season, not a wedding. You can still influence the outcome.”
“I - what?” Harry blinked.
Remus rolled his eyes and looked at Sirius in fond exasperation. “Just like James at his age,” he muttered.
“You’d think they’re willfully oblivious,” Sirius grinned. “But that’s just how they are.”
“Can you please get to your point?!” Harry grumbled, frustration bubbling over.
“Well, Harry,” Sirius said, his voice indicating he was talking to an especially dim three-year-old. “You are a Potter, which means you are part of a traditional pureblood family yourself, even if you’re a half-blood. And I am a Black, which means I have the right to suggest a suitor for Draco.”
Harry gaped at him. “What?” he asked, not intending to be repetitive, but - what ?
“You could enter the courting season and try to win Draco’s parents over,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Merlin, Harry, keep up!”
“But they’d never accept me,” Harry blurted out.
Sirius pursed his lips. “Narcissa isn’t that bad,” Sirius mused. “I bet Lucius is the driving force behind all of this. She probably just wants the best for her son and is a bit misguided in how she wants to achieve that. If she sees that Draco is attached to you and you play by the rules, she might be persuaded. And if you have Narcissa, she can help with Lucius.”
Harry blinked. “You think I could actually do this?” he asked.
“If you are willing,” Remus injected. “It’s a commitment. You’d signal your intent to marry Draco and you’re still very young, Harry. Please think about it carefully.”
“You’d also step into the very family circles I stepped out of,” Sirius made a face. “So that’s something to consider.”
“But if he’s worth it,” Remus smiled, “it’s a viable option.”
Harry stared at them, unsure what to say.
“Think about it,” Remus repeated. “You still have time.”
Harry nodded, his heart racing.
When Harry came back to Hogwarts after the holidays, Draco approached him, his shoulders tense but his face one of determination.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked.
Harry nodded. He let Draco’s fingers close around his wrist, trying not to hyper focus on the contact as Draco led them towards an alcove where they could have some privacy. Then, Draco turned to him, his eyes full of remorse. Harry’s chest tightened.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I flirted with you, and that wasn’t fair. I knew it was going to end up like this. I’m so sorry, Harry.”
“Draco -” Harry began, but Draco shook his head.
“Please,” he said. “Let me speak.”
Harry nodded, gulping.
“I think a part of me hoped for a different outcome,” Draco sighed, shrugging. “And in another universe, I would have loved to continue exploring this thing between us. But I can’t and I’m sorry, Harry. I just -” he bit his lip, his throat working before he continued. “I don’t want to lose you entirely. You’re one of my closest friends and my life is already going to go to shit this summer and I don’t want to lose you, too.”
His voice was pleading and Harry couldn’t help but reach out for his hand. It was an instinct. Draco stared at the way Harry’s fingers curved around his palm like it was a lifeline.
“You’re not going to lose me,” he promised. “No matter what.”
Draco let out a breath that was bigger than him and closed his fingers around Harry’s.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
That night, Harry wrote to Sirius. His letter only contained one sentence.
‘I’m going to do it.’
The NEWTs passed like a blur and then, they all had to say goodbye to Hogwarts and each other for good. Well, it wasn’t like they were never going to see each other again, Harry rationalised, but with the way Draco clung to him as he hugged him at King’s Cross, it almost felt like it.
“We’ll write,” he promised as he let go.
“We will,” Harry smiled.
Draco smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Then he turned and walked towards his waiting parents. Harry watched him go, feeling like Draco was taking Harry’s heart with him. The only thing that made it bearable was that he would see Draco again soon, even if Draco didn’t know it yet.
James Potter was not pleased about Harry’s decision to enter Draco Malfoy’s courting season.
“My parents, your grandparents, dropped this nonsense for a reason!” he snapped. “And you want to subject yourself to it voluntarily?!”
“It’s for Draco,” Harry shrugged. “So yes.”
“You’re just turning eighteen!” his father pointed out.
“We were eighteen when we married, James,” Lily threw in.
“That was different!” James called. “A war was going on! We were afraid we wouldn’t survive the year!”
“And Harry is afraid Draco will be married at the end of the summer,” Lily shrugged, unimpressed. “Special circumstances lead to extraordinary choices. We can’t talk him out of it if he thinks it’s the right thing to do.”
“This is the family Sirius fled from!” James protested. “He stayed with me and my parents because it was that horrible! And Harry wants to marry into it?!”
“Well, he’s not marrying into the Black family. Walburga Black is dead,” Lily reminded him calmly.
“Lucius Malfoy is just as bad,” James grumbled.
“You can’t know that,” Lily shook her head.
“Also, you know how it is in these families, James,” Sirius spoke up, at last. “Married people have much more freedom than unmarried people. As soon as Draco is married, his parents can’t really make rules for him anymore. And by extension, Harry.”
“You!” James glared at him. “You put the idea in his head, didn’t you!”
“Strictly speaking, it was Remus,” Sirius smirked.
“Thank you, love,” Remus said tiredly.
“Dad,” Harry sighed, making his father finally look back at him. “Stop blaming Sirius and Remus. I want this.”
“You’re a child. You don’t know what you want,” James grumbled.
“Yes, I do!” Harry glared. “And I’ll do this with or without your blessing, so you can either support me, or you can keep throwing a tantrum.”
James pursed his lips before looking at Lily. “He gets that from you,” he accused.
“Tell yourself that,” Lily nodded before smiling at Harry. Harry smiled back.
Harry spent the next couple of weeks obsessively studying pureblood etiquette, learning how to dance and picking outfits. Weirdly, Harry felt like studying for his NEWTs had been easier.
When his NEWT results arrived three weeks into the holidays, Harry almost didn’t have the space of mind to be happy about them. He had done well, thanks to Hermione’s drilling and Draco’s help in subjects he was usually weak in, and his father was already talking about getting him an interview in his department, but Harry felt like he really couldn’t focus on that right now.
“I don’t know, Dad,” he sighed. “I don’t know if I even want to be an Auror. Give me some time.”
James frowned at him. “How much time?” he asked.
“Until I know what’s happening with Draco, maybe,” Harry shrugged.
“You can’t let this whole thing distract you from your professional future!” James said disapprovingly. “The Malfoys might be able to afford never working a day in their lives, but I don’t want that for you!”
“It’s not what I want, either,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I just need to get my head straight. And I can’t do that while it’s still full of courting rituals.”
“Leave him be, James,” Lily injected. “Worst comes worst, he joins Hermione at university and honestly, I wouldn’t be too miffed about that.”
James glared at her and Harry smiled. Trust his mother to be an advocate for further studying.
When the start of Draco’s courting season finally came, Harry felt like he was going to go out of his mind. He was wearing finer robes than he’d ever owned in his life and had endured whichever spells the stylist at Diagon Alley had thrown at him, but they had tamed his hair and cleared his skin in a way Harry had never seen before.
Malfoy Manor, when they arrived, seemed to have been given a make-over, too. It looked bright and inviting and even the peacocks looked festive. Hordes of well-dressed people were walking down the driveway towards the Manor, and Harry nervously hoped they weren’t all competition.
“Cheer up,” Sirius smirked at him. He looked rather cheerful for someone reentering a society he had removed himself from twenty years ago. “You want to woo the Malfoys, and a greenish tint isn’t very attractive.”
Harry glared at him. Sirius snickered.
As they walked up the driveway, they could soon spot Narcissa and Lucius greeting the guests, with gracious smiles on their faces.
“Right,” Sirius said. “Your first test. Chin up.”
Harry straightened, trying to smile. He suspected it came out as a grimace.
Narcissa was the first to spot them. She blinked, halting in her movements. Her hand went to her husband’s arm, alerting him. Then, Lucius’ gaze found them, and he stared, his smile falling.
Sirius walked up to them like he had every right to be there and Harry tried to keep up with him his heart racing.
“Cousin Narcissa,” he smiled. “It’s so good to see you!”
She blinked and inclined her head. “Sirius,” she said cautiously. “It’s been a while.”
“It has,” he agreed.
“What are you doing here?” Lucius said, under his breath. His gaze was darting around, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of others overhearing the conversation.
“My godson told me about Draco’s courting season,” Sirius smiled pleasantly. “So I’m here to present him as a suitor.”
Both Narcissa and Lucius stared first at Sirius, then at Harry. Harry tried his hardest to smile.
“You can’t be serious!” Lucius hissed.
“Oh, I quite am,” Sirius said, and Harry bit his lip, grateful that his godfather refrained from making a pun.
“You cut off all family ties twenty years ago,” Lucius pointed out under his breath. “And now you’re turning up with your half-blood godson at my son’s courting season?”
“As you very well know, as a Black, I still have a right to present a suitor,” Sirius said, unimpressed by Lucius’ rant. “And Harry cares deeply about Draco. He wanted a chance to show that he’s committed to him.”
Lucius opened his mouth to argue but his wife’s hand on his elbow stopped him.
“Don’t make a scene here,” she said softly. “We’re talking about this later.” She nodded at both Sirius and Harry politely and motioned to the entrance of the Manor. “Welcome.”
They both nodded and Harry almost stumbled in his haste to get away from them.
“That was less than ideal,” he muttered.
“It went as expected,” Sirius shrugged. “Lucius was never going to like this. But if Draco wants you here, Narcissa might be persuaded. So go and find Draco.”
And with that, they entered a spacious ballroom full of people. Harry’s eyes quickly found Draco on the other side in conversation with a young witch. His smile was polite but detached.
“Right,” Harry said distractedly. “Talk to you later.”
“Ta,” Sirius grinned, waving at Harry.
Harry weaved himself towards Draco, and when he was near enough, he could hear bits and pieces of Draco’s conversation.
“The education at Beauxbatons was so much more extensive if you ask me! I’d never send a child to Hogwarts again. Dumbledore really ruined that school for all of us.”
Draco smiled tightly and took a sip of his drink. Harry took a deep breath and stepped up to him.
“Excuse me,” he said.
Draco turned towards him and his eyes widened. “Harry,” he breathed.
“Draco,” he smiled, private and small. “I wondered if I may speak to you for a moment.”
Draco seemed frozen. Then he blinked and nodded. “Of course,” he said, turning to his former conversation partners. “If you’d excuse me.” Then, he followed Harry a few steps away into the crowd.
“Harry,” Draco hissed, his voice urgent. “What are you doing here?!”
Harry smiled, turning to him. “Sirius brought me.”
“Sirius?!” Draco demanded. “But Sirius left this family ages ago!”
“He’s still a Black by name,” Harry shrugged, sounding more casual than he felt. “He can always present a suitor.”
Draco gaped at him. “You’re - you’re here as a suitor?” he asked, his voice an octave higher than before.
“Yes,” Harry confirmed, his voice softer than before. “I am.”
Draco stared at him for a long moment. Then, a middle-aged man stepped up to them with a daughter. Draco cursed, grasping Harry’s wrist and pulling them further into the crowd.
“Have you lost your mind?” he hissed as they moved. “You realise this isn’t a game! This is a sick ritual in which people fight for my hand in marriage!”
“I know what it is, Draco,” Harry said. “I had endless discussions about it with my father.”
“Then why are you here?!” Draco asked, looking at him in confusion.
“Because I hate the thought of you marrying someone else,” Harry burst out. “Of you marrying someone you don’t even like! And if this is the only way I can fight for you, I’ll damn well do it!”
Again, Draco seemed speechless. Too speechless, it seemed, to notice that the earlier man and his daughter had caught up with them.
“Draco!” he called in a booming voice. “My boy, let me introduce you to my youngest, Aurelia!”
Draco shook himself out of it then. “Later,” he mouthed to Harry before turning to the man and his daughter.
Unable to help himself, Harry wrapped his hand around Draco’s wrist before he let go of Harry, squeezing once. Draco returned the gesture, squeezing back, before finally breaking the contact.