Chapter Text
Harry has not seen Hogwarts since he finished school.
Which means five years ago.
It is June 2004.
They have just finished the fucking Academy of Magical Instruction. They graduated, and Harry could not be more fucking tired.
Being twenty-three is exhausting.
Well, almost twenty-four. One more month.
His life has changed in almost every possible way.
Ron is an Auror. During the first year after Hogwarts, he tried helping George with the shop. He decided he did not need to do anything else.
But after six months, Harry felt like he was talking to a zombie.
Not that Ron did not love the shop, but it was clear he was doing it for his brother.
So, after a long talk with George and Molly, Ron decided it was time to focus on himself. In three years, he became an Auror and married Hermione in 2003. The exact moment he knew he was going to pass his exams, he proposed.
Hermione works at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, focusing on house elf welfare and legal reform.
Every time you ask her about her plans, she lists them all and then ends with, “When I am Minister, things are going to change around here.” Harry knows she is right, because she is the best at her job right now.
Still, it is unlikely to happen anytime soon. She is bloody twenty-four.
They did not live together immediately. Hermione still had to work on her parents’ memories, and Ron helped her for a long time before he focused on the shop.
After everything was settled, they found a beautiful house in London and seem pretty stable.
Luna and Ginny are travelling around the world. Ginny joined the Harpies, and every time they go on tour, Luna moves with her to discover the magic of the creatures scattered across the globe, specialising in magizoology.
Dean and Seamus have taken very different paths. Seamus works at the Ministry for now, in Magical Maintenance, and he has lunch breaks with Hermione. Dean is becoming a professional artist and illustrator. They are taking things very slowly with their lives, each in their own way.
They do not live together yet, even though Dean spends almost all his time at Seamus’ place.
They want to get married before living together, but no one really knows when they actually want to marry.
Blaise is an absolute mystery. Every time they meet, his Unspeakable job is a secret to everyone, which is somehow compensated by Theo, who, as a Curse Breaker, talks nonstop about whatever crazy shit has happened to him next.
Theo has a pretty cool apartment in London, and as far as Harry knows, he has been sort of seeing this chick for a while now, but he is extremely secretive about it. Which is weird, since he used to be the one who bragged about the girls he seduced.
Blaise lives with Pansy, and she is always on the phone with Dean. Somehow, she constantly needs illustrations from the point of view of another artist whenever she gets a vision for her dresses and designs.
Harry is pretty sure they are both single and genuinely do not care about having a relationship.
Neville is the one Harry sees the most, since they did the Academy together. Hannah and he are living together, and things are very serious between them. They graduated together, so everything feels pretty stable.
What is funny is that Harry has seen Greg more than he ever wanted to. He became one of the most famous bodyguards in London, so much so that they actually started talking when Greg was assigned to Harry on the second of May, 2001, when Harry had to give the annual speech for the end of the war.
Greg has a girlfriend now and lives very peacefully. He and Draco have a very good relationship, and Harry is happy to see Draco finally talking to him again. Surprisingly enough, Harry also found out that Greg’s girlfriend is Daphne Greengrass, which means that, along with her sister and Millicent Bulstrode, Harry has been seeing them a lot more than he would have liked lately.
They have caught up a lot. Let’s just say that.
Then there is him and Draco.
They broke up.
Well, no. Harry broke up with Draco.
Yeah. Like sixteen times.
Every time there was a new heartbreaking song Draco wanted to hear, he asked Harry to break up with him for three to four minutes and then get back together.
Which was pretty frustrating, since Harry hated it and just wanted his boyfriend to be with him instead of listening to stupid songs.
But no.
He and Draco are living perfectly fine.
Between a few arguments and great sex, everything is amazing.
They entered the Academy together during the first year, even if Draco did not seem particularly interested at first, considering he had not even sent the letter in time.
But yes, Harry wants to be treated like everyone else. Still, when it comes to his boyfriend, he can get some things done.
Harry convinced Draco to enter the Academy by saying, “If you take the Potions course, you can just become a Potions Master and open a shop. It’s still not bad.”
Only one can imagine.
After school, both of them had very different plans. Harry wanted to be an Auror, and Draco wanted to open a shop in Knockturn Alley.
They were both furious about the other’s choice, until they agreed to change their minds if the other did the same. And so it happened.
Still, it feels like they already knew how it was going to end. They just needed each other’s support.
So they started the Academy, and it went perfectly.
Year after year, they spent five years doing exams together, insulting each other, making new friends, and eventually being known as Draco and Harry, 'The Academy Couple,' because they were the only ones who never broke up.
If you do not count Draco’s songs. But those do not count.
They graduated with great scores and were genuinely happy.
Around the third year, Draco found a tiny little cat on the street, and they had to take him home, as Draco said.
So now they also have a cat.
Some call him Count Whiskers, others Baron Paws. Ron calls him Ferret Junior.
Draco and Harry call him Snowy.
It suits him. As white as snow.
Teddy suggested the name. When he met him, he pointed at the cat and said, “Snowy.”
That settled it.
Teddy is six years old and very committed to ruining Andromeda’s life by trying to convince her to get him into Hogwarts. Andromeda has to explain to him, for the umpteenth time, that he is not old enough yet.
Every time Teddy comes into Grimmauld Place and plays with Snowy, Harry and Draco become more and more convinced that he is going to be a Hufflepuff.
Andromeda is doing well. Now she and Narcissa basically move very, very often to Strasbourg, and every Christmas is spent there.
Draco always said: “It’s the capital of Christmas.” Harry had no idea what he meant before they actually spent a Christmas there, with the Weasleys too.
Which, to be clear, are all doing perfectly fine.
Bill and Fleur have two kids now, Victoire and Dominique. Fleur is pregnant with her third, probably due in August, and they are fairly sure they are going to call the little boy Louis.
Draco absolutely loves those kids. The moment they realised he spoke French too, they crawled straight toward him, listening to him talk. Harry always sat next to him, listening as well.
Harry is picking up most words now, studying French slowly.
Not that it is easy. All right.
George finally married Angelina. Charlie has a boyfriend and brought him to Christmas last year. Bill tried to talk him into breaking up with Charlie, and Charlie almost broke his neck.
Percy is married too, to Audrey. She is a witch who works in something like the Ministry’s human resources, though she used to be an Auror.
Harry heard from George that she was the first girl who ever knocked the shit out of Percy after he said something about how the Ministry was not that bad during the war.
Ironic, considering she works in human resources.
Percy never reported her.
Reason being, she technically should have been the one to report it, and for obvious reasons, he couldn't.
But he didn't report her, even when he had the chance or other opportunities to.
One thing led to another, and she got a ring.
Draco has always liked her.
Harry is pretty sure she is hiding a pregnancy that will be revealed this summer. He is not entirely sure Draco is sure, but Harry tends to trust whatever Draco thinks.
Draco sees Lucius whenever he can. He does not talk about it much, but it is clear Lucius is not doing particularly well in Azkaban.
Hermione tried her best, and Harry fought too, until Dementors were finally made illegal at Azkaban as well.
Draco did not say anything, but that night he hugged Harry like he was his lifesaver.
Lucius is still not doing well, but at least now he has a reason not to go completely mad.
Not more than he already is.
Harry has met him once.
He knew he would have met him one day. If he and Draco ever had children, they would want to meet their grandfather at some point, and Harry would go with them.
If the heavens were so cruel as to let him still be alive... he's joking, unfortunately.
For a long time, communication was rare and always filtered through Draco, who would sometimes say, “My father said…” or “My father asked…”
Until one day Draco said his father wanted to see him. Draco said he would like that.
And Harry agreed.
So last year, Harry found himself alone in a room with Lucius Malfoy, and every instinct in him wanted to physically assault the man.
They just stared at each other for at least a couple of minutes.
“You are taking care of them.”
“I am.”
And he was.
Every time Narcissa had a problem, Harry was there. He took her to the St Mungo's when the pain finally surpassed her pride, and she would dismiss him afterward, telling him he was useless.
Like mother, like son.
Harry always came back when she needed him.
Draco had to learn that Harry 'loves' Narcissa because he loves him. It is not a responsibility he carries out of annoyance, but because he wants to. Because he would have killed to have parents old enough to take care of.
He sort of has a mother now, other than Molly. So he provides.
Whenever Harry took care of Narcissa while Draco was away on business, Draco always tried to suck Harry off or do something sexual for him, like he needed to repay him, like he had to prove how grateful he was.
It took some time for Harry to make him understand that he did not need to do that at all. Even now, Harry notices that sometimes Draco does it without meaning to. When Harry gets mad, Draco tries to seduce him as an apology.
Harry always reassures him. Those are the moments when Draco is the most vulnerable, when the “I don’t know how you could want me” speech slips out.
Harry truly does not understand how it is Draco who wants him.
Still, he takes care of Narcissa. He takes care of Draco. He takes care of Andromeda and Teddy too.
It is not annoying to him. Sometimes it is rough, but he loves doing it. He loves having someone to love.
So when he looked into Lucius’ carved eyes, eaten away by death and isolation, his face wrinkled by an illness only the mind can develop in a place like that, his hair like dry hay, they both knew Harry was telling the truth.
After a long silence, Lucius pointed at him with a shaky hand. Proof of torture. After Draco, Harry had learned to read what different tremors meant.
“Your face is carved into my memory as the thief of my life, the mark of the one who shattered my life and took my loved ones from me.” he said, his voice barely human.
Harry stared at him.
“My gratitude may carry some weight, yet I pray that face perishes with you, and that no Malfoy ever receives the cursed life sentence of bearing a Potter in their bloodline.”
Harry kept staring for a moment longer before speaking.
“Your gratitude is appreciated, but unnecessary. My face may be carved into your mind, but in mine, yours does not take up even the slightest space.” He stood, looking down at him. “Nothing I do was, is, or ever will be directed at you.”
He turned to leave, then paused, breathing in. That was a lifeless man now. He had nothing left.
Harry turned back one last time. “But I will take care of them. And the children you wish would never share a hint of my blood will remember their grandfather, if not as a good man, as a good father.”
Lucius stared at him and said nothing else.
So Harry left.
When Harry told Draco about the conversation, Draco became unusually emotional and thanked him as if he had done him the greatest favour imaginable. But Harry had done nothing. Not really.
At least he can bear one of Draco’s parents. Because at least, Harry thinks, Narcissa is starting to sort of like him. He would not go as far as to say she sees him as a son, but she always offers him tea now.
And not the bad tea she gives guests while pretending it is nice.
She gives him the good tea.
And two years ago, she even started giving him presents for his birthday.
He thinks he might have started to grow on her during one of the first times he took her in for a health check at St. Mungo's, about three years after he started dating Draco. Or maybe it was during the times he accompanied her shopping when Andromeda was busy. After four years, the Ministry returned part of the Malfoy funds because of Draco's redemption through charity work, and it was finally enough for Narcissa to live on. Maybe that was one of the moments when he truly grew on her.
But he remembers the exact day she realized that Harry was growing on her.
After yet another check up, Harry was already irritated by the waiting and ended up almost screaming at the Head of the Department, telling him to treat Narcissa like everyone else and not with sufficiency because of her past.
And when they received the results, he yelled again because they had not checked her properly.
Yes, he was pissed that day. All right.
Narcissa watched him the entire time, completely emotionless, so Harry assumed she thought he was insane.
But the next day, she wrote him a letter asking him to accompany her shopping.
When he told Draco, Draco frowned and said, “Strange. Andromeda should be free tomorrow.”
Harry was confused, but the next day they went shopping. At some point, Narcissa walked into the men’s section, took a sweatshirt, and moved Harry so she could press it against his chest, as if checking the fit. She looked strangely distressed while doing it, then sighed before turning to the shop assistant.
"I would like these in Atrovirens and Bistre, if possible.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Harry had no idea what she had just said, but he learned later those were colours, because the assistant came back with several sweatshirts and said, “There’s Eburnean too.”
Narcissa hummed and looked at Harry. "I shall take all three of these, along with the Feldgrau."
Harry felt like a child.
Which was not entirely bad, but also extremely weird.
When they got back, Harry took Narcissa to Malfoy Manor first. She stared at him with mild disgust before nodding and saying, "Convey my regards to my son." and then walking away.
It reminded him of the expression Draco used to make when he liked something but hated the fact that he liked it. So Harry took it as a good sign.
When he got home, Draco stared at him.
“What did you bring?”
“I—”
Draco opened the bags, pulled out a sweatshirt, and frowned at Harry.
“There is no way in hell you bought an eburnean sweatshirt.”
Harry blinked. “Your mother bought them for me.”
Draco stared at him.
Harry stared back.
“My… mother?”
Harry nodded.
“She bought four sweatshirts for you. With her money.”
Harry nodded again.
Draco blinked. “How?”
Harry shrugged. “She went into the men’s section, held one up against my chest, and then decided on her own.”
Draco blinked once more, and then his face slowly softened, brightening with something close to wonder. “Oh. Sweet Merlin. This is wonderful.”
“It is?”
“She likes you!”
“Well, about time. It’s been four years.”
“No. Potter. Like a son. She likes you like a son!”
Harry felt deeply confused, because that was Narcissa Malfoy, which made the whole thing slightly disturbing.
On the other hand, he had apparently gained another mother.
Which was… very cool, actually.
Harry found himself quietly happy.
Molly, on the other hand, immediately claimed Draco as her other child. She gifted him handmade sweaters with a huge 'D' on them—which sounds terrible when phrased like that—and cooked all his favourite meals, fussing over him endlessly. She was simply happy to have an even bigger family.
What is it about mothers demonstrating love through giving sweaters and sweatshirts?
Molly always invited Andromeda and Narcissa over too, and after three years, now that they were finally starting to accept her invitations, Narcissa seemed noticeably less stiff.
Mostly with Arthur, who somehow seemed to like her. Every Christmas or Easter, he showed her whatever Muggle objects he had recently found. She would stare at them, then loudly criticise him. Arthur usually just laughed or presented something even more ridiculous, until she was so taken aback she had no choice but to engage.
Strangely enough, they seemed to get along.
The last thing Harry ever expected in his life was Arthur Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy finding common ground.
Meanwhile, Andromeda usually did most of the talking with Molly, as Molly adored Teddy.
Other than that, Draco is doing great.
He is living his life now. He has an entire room in the house dedicated to Potions, and he is studying healing potions in particular. Secretly, he is also looking into a Healer course, seemingly tempted to try that path as well, and Harry is genuinely happy for him.
Draco has grown a little taller, which annoys Harry more than it should. He does not want to end up looking like a dwarf next to him.
No disrespect to dwarves.
During their second year at the Academy, Draco went through a sort of crisis about his father and cut his hair extremely short. It was a bit of a loss for Harry, who had always kept Draco’s hair tie around his wrist, but he found him beautiful regardless. Of course he did.
He had to get used to not having any hair to pull when he fucked him from behind.
Now, thank Merlin, Draco’s hair has grown back, long again, and Harry reclaimed the hair tie.
A victory.
Harry, on the other hand, has grown broader. He trains a lot and has become more muscular, something Draco never fails to compliment and clearly enjoy.
Harry thought Draco was complimenting him so much because he was more muscular, and he figured it must be because it made him more attractive.
But when Harry eats more to gain muscle, he sometimes gets a noticeable bump on his stomach from how much he's eaten. Draco always cuddles up next to him, resting against his stomach as if he’s completely devoted to Harry and to making sure Harry is eating well and staying healthy.
Harry can't help thinking that, if Draco keeps treating him like this, he'll probably end up fat in his forties.
Harry tried growing his hair out, but he did not like it long and cut it short again.
Draco had learned to braid his hair. It took a lot of time, but he managed the tiny braids Harry had always found neat on others. Harry almost fucking died from how tight Draco was making them, convinced Draco was the problem—but when he went to check, he found Draco was actually the gentlest. Once he got past the tightness and the itchiness (they had changed products twice), he finally had some pretty cool braids.
He only had them for a week.
And it makes someone wonder—'by the name of Merlin, why would you take off such great braids? Draco had worked so fucking hard to get them, and your boyfriend ruins his work in less than a week. Why?'
Because of his boyfriend himself.
He remembered the exact moment they both realized that those braids were a problem.
They were both sitting in the living room, reading while listening to music. At some point—as it always happened—Draco moved his hand to touch Harry’s hair. They both froze when his hand didn’t slide through because of the braids.
They stared at each other for a long moment, reading each other’s minds, and then Draco said, “Oh, apologies,” before going back to his book.
Harry was about to kill himself.
But he didn’t do anything, because that was Draco’s work—and Draco had bought two different books just to learn how to do cornrows, and he’d gone out to buy all the products too.
Harry wasn’t sure why Draco was so committed, but Draco always liked to take things into his own hands if it was something he loved.
That meant he loved Harry.
Ihihih.
After a long fucking time, Draco finally managed to do the braids, and Harry would be damned if he ruined his boyfriend’s work.
So it went on for a week, and every time Harry couldn’t feel Draco’s hands through his hair—massaging his scalp and all that—he was losing it.
The braids came out during sex. Harry was being particularly rough, and when Draco touched them his expression tightened, just a little, from not being able to grab there. Harry hated it so much his vision went black.
"Please," he said, like he was dying.
“Are you sure?” Draco asked, as if he had known from the start, though he’d thought Harry liked the new hair too much to care.
Stupid thought.
“Please,” Harry repeated.
"Go ahead, darling."
So right there, on the spot, Harry had to take out all the cornrows—which takes a while, if you ask—before he could finally pull his boyfriend back to him. Draco touched his hair then, a small smirk on his face, making it very clear he knew exactly how badly Harry had wanted that.
And that was the end of Harry's braids.
Harry then learned to do braids for Draco. It was a thousand times easier, since he usually just does one long braid—or two, when he feels particularly sparkly.
He’s still absolutely shit at it, but Draco seems to like every single one Harry does, so Harry ends up pretty flushed.
After the hair, he tried growing a beard. His body is not quite ready for that yet, but Draco liked the idea a bit too much. If only it did not grow so fucking unevenly, Harry might actually keep it.
If his grandfather were still alive, he would have taught him the secrets of proper hair and beard care.
From the pictures, however, the Potters always seem to have a pretty good beard in their thirties, so Harry will try again.
For obvious reasons, his father is not among the living proofs of it.
Kreacher left Grimmauld Place last year. He wanted to try joining the Hogwarts kitchens. They had convinced him to try something new and not be a fucking slave, even though Draco and Harry had given him a proper room and wages. Still, the apple does not fall far from the tree.
They still live at Grimmauld Place, which is terrible and perfect at the same time, because Draco turned it into a real fucking home.
The house is lush and bright, as if it cannot wait for more life to fill it. They adjusted every room. Sirius’ room is the one Harry still struggles to walk into, so they decided not to change it much. Sometimes they go in together and leave their most important memories there.
Harry buys flowers and plants for Draco constantly, which makes the house even more vibrant with colours and life. Draco started asking for plants too, since flowers eventually die and he wants something he can take care of.
Of course, everything in the house exists in a perfect order that only Draco fully understands. He keeps things in ways only he can find, and Harry respects his rules very carefully and diligently. This earns him a lot of kisses and a lot of information dumps, which Harry genuinely loves to listen to.
They travel more now, especially to France, always using the Portkey Harry gifted Draco. Draco keeps it close, devoted to it in a way that almost makes Harry laugh—as if Harry’s old blanket from Privet Drive weren’t still folded in the first drawer of his bedside table, there to be touched whenever he needs it.
They also travelled to India, visiting places where Harry’s heritage was supposedly rooted.
Harry had been sceptical at first, but slowly discovering his origins broke something open inside him. He cried when he found his great grandparents’ graves in some forgotten cemetery, abandoned by God and time.
Still, it was good. The culture. The celebrations.
They brought home new cuisine, new traditions, new cultural days to respect and remember.
Draco decided then that they would raise their children with full cultural awareness and difference.
Harry loves him.
And he loves him even more now that Draco needs glasses to read up close. Thin, silver framed glasses he tries to hide from Harry, which only makes Harry genuinely fucking feral.
They have probably fucked in every inch of the house by now.
And yes, Draco now has half a wardrobe dedicated to lingerie or dresses he wears specifically to get Harry riled up. Sinful skirts, thigh high socks. Harry is completely out of his mind about it.
One day, Pansy asked them what their sexuality was.
They looked at each other.
Draco shrugged. “I think I’m gay. I’ve never been attracted to a woman.”
Harry thought about it for a moment. “Bisexual. I liked Ginny and Cho,” he said, thinking out loud.
It did not feel entirely right. But Pansy said it was important to identify yourself with something. Bisexual felt like the closest answer Harry had.
When he looked at Draco, though, Draco looked just as uncertain as he felt.
“So… gay?” Harry asked.
Draco nodded, then tilted his head. “Bisexual?”
“I think,” Harry said.
They fell silent.
Then Draco turned to him, really looked at him, and said softly, “I think I would have loved you in whatever form you had appeared to me. Because I just love you.”
Harry bit his lip, because yes—fuck yes, thank you, Lord. “I feel the same way. I just love you.”
Maybe sometimes it went beyond sexuality. Harry didn’t want to linger on that too much, but Draco seemed to feel the same way, and that was enough.
“I’m… Dracosexual,” Harry said, half-teasing.
Draco laughed and smiled. “Mh, perfect. Because I’m 100% Harrysexual. Though, I bet there are a lot of Harrys I could substitute you with.”
Harry gasped.
Harry had also confessed something to Draco once when he was drunk, something he had never told a living soul.
He stared at Draco and said, “When I was twelve, I met Tom Riddle when he was young.”
Draco smiled, sipping his glass of red wine. “You’ve told me.”
Harry stared at him. “I know.”
Draco frowned. “What?”
Harry bit his lip. “I found him… like,” he flushed, “…good-looking.”
Draco’s jaw dropped to the floor, and Harry wanted to die. “Are you fucking with me?”
Harry flushed harder. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you—”
“You found Voldemort himself… fucking good-looking?”
Harry huffed. “He was, like, sixteen, and I thought he was gonna help Ginny. I dunno.”
“You had a crush on Voldemort.”
“I have never in my life said that.”
“But you thought it.”
Harry stared at him, pointing. “I had a bit of a crush on Cedric, and I give you that. I did not have a crush on young Tom Riddle. I saw him, thought he was good-looking, nothing more. I thought Sirius was good-looking too.”
Draco put his hand over his mouth. “Fucking homosexual, you were.”
“Over my dead godfather?!”
Draco pointed at him. “Homosexual!”
They both burst out laughing. Harry bit his lip. “Don’t tell anyone, please.”
“I’ll print it on every paper,” Draco said, leaning in to kiss him. “If it can console you, he was just as obsessed with you—”
Harry pushed him off, and Draco laughed even harder.
However, not everything had been perfect these years.
Because no rings had appeared.
Yes. Not engaged. Not married.
Harry knows.
Too well, actually.
Because he asked Draco a million times if he could… prepare the thing.
And Draco always blushed and said, “Potter, it’s too early!”
And then one year passed.
Then two years passed.
Harry asked again, hoping the time was right.
Draco looked up from his book and blinked. “Harry, darling… I don’t know. Maybe we should wait until after graduation? I feel already exhausted,” he said.
It broke Harry’s heart a little. But, not to worry, Draco immediately sensed it and moved to kiss him all over, reassuring him that everything was alright and they wouldn’t break up.
As if he hadn’t made Harry break up with him sixteen times.
After three and a half years of waiting, and four years together, Narcissa asked impatiently, “I was promised a ring for my son.”
Harry almost, almost, broke in front of her. He shrugged and said, “I wish he accepted it too.”
Narcissa seemed like she wanted to say something, but the realization that it wasn’t Harry who was delaying it left her silent.
Harry thinks that’s also one of the reasons Narcissa started to like him.
Draco once came home, telling him that Narcissa had slightly scolded him for making 'the poor child' wait.
Harry started seeing her more like a mother around the fifth year he and Draco had been together. Around the fourth year, Harry asked Draco if it was time for the proposal, and Draco said no.
A few months ago, while they were in bed, Harry was about to fall asleep when Draco whispered:
“It’s time.”
Harry opened his eyes slightly, thinking automatically that it was time for tea or that something in the oven was ready—but Draco pulled him back.
“No,” Draco whispered, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “We’re about to graduate, Harry.”
Harry stared at him.
Draco looked at him seriously. “It’s time… if you still want to.”
Okay. Well. Harry had to have sex with him after that. He basically jumped on Draco and they went at it hard.
And, to be fair, fucking Draco from behind—which had always been a no for Harry because he couldn’t see his face—was completely reevaluated after he used the mirror in the room. Not only that, but he could hold Draco and touch his nipples at the same time. Good. Very good. Harry approved.
Anyway.
It’s time.
So, it’s time.
And finally, twenty-three years old, almost twenty-four.
They were going to get engaged. Which, unfortunately, meant they would marry at twenty-five. But who cares? Harry had wished for this for so long; he just wanted it done.
He had had the rings for three years, the incisions done only recently when he knew the exact date he was going to propose.
And now… finally, they were at Hogwarts.
He wanted it to be a surprise, of course.
But, well… it wasn’t a surprise at all.
Because, besides the fact that Draco had given him permission, it was pretty clear Harry couldn’t wait much longer.
All his friends knew the date he was going to propose. Narcissa knew too. So they all suggested that Draco dress a certain way and be ready for any occasion.
Not to mention Narcissa welcoming them at the Manor with a grin, asking Draco when he was planning to have children, still looking perfectly content.
Draco looked over at Harry with a knowing expression, as if to say, “Really? You told my mom before it happened?!”
Well… she was insisting on knowing.
And not that Harry was particularly good at keeping a secret. At every opportunity, he was practically screaming from the heart about how happy he was that he was going to propose.
To Narcissa, too, unfortunately, the news was absolutely delightful and joyous.
When Harry told her, she lifted her chin even higher, her face clearly sparkling with contentment, then stood and took out the finest tea she reserved for special occasions, offering it to Harry.
For the sake of tea, Harry must speak.
But beyond that, it was very clear from the way Harry looked at Draco.
Draco smiled back at him with such a sweet, knowing look. It was like saying, “Hi. We’re going to be engaged soon.” And Harry’s eyes answered, “I know. I can’t wait.”
As the day drew near, Harry asked Draco to visit Hogwarts. After graduation, they were making the usual visits to the new teachers. They weren’t teachers yet—they still had another year of specialization and some work ahead—but both wanted to be married the time their specialization was complete and they could start working. Still, it was important to do the tiny internships or tours. Since school ended on June 18th, they could visit without disturbing any classes.
Draco accepted and didn’t seem suspicious at first, thinking it was just the internship.
But Harry was extremely fidgety and nervous the whole time on the train. Draco always calmed him by holding his hand.
By the time they arrived at Hogwarts, Draco looked slightly agitated too, but at the same time calm—like someone who had known for six years that this moment would come.
Yes. They had been together for five and a half years. In three months, they would celebrate six. And Harry had been waiting for this moment for so, so long. Longer than he had wanted to.
He would have married Draco within the first year.
He was tired of calling him his boyfriend, his partner.
He was so fucking tired.
During the tour, they pretended not to know Hogwarts by heart and even tried to talk to the professors. Neville smiled at them knowingly and left Harry and Draco alone, because even he knew what was going to happen.
Once everything ended, they had an early dinner in the Great Hall, which they hadn’t seen in so long, and then they were free to roam.
Harry clears his throat. “Would you like to come with me to the Astronomy Tower?”
Draco looks up at him, swallows hard, and blinks rapidly, as if trying not to cry. His expression is a mix of disbelief and awe, like he still can’t quite believe this is happening. “I would love that,” he whispers.
Harry takes his hand, feeling it slightly sweaty and trembling, as they walk toward the Tower.
They pause for a moment, looking around in awe, still unaccustomed to seeing their school after so many years.
Draco moves to the railing, staring down for a moment before turning to the wind, a smile spreading across his face. “Oh… this is just wonderful,” he whispers.
Harry swallows and, a few feet behind Draco, kneels down, retrieving the little box from his pocket.
When Draco turns, he looks at Harry, then immediately closes his eyes, a smile covering his face. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice trembling.
“Draco,” Harry begins.
Draco chuckles wetly, biting his lip as he looks at him. “I would have thought someone like you would have done something… extremely big for the proposal,” he whispers, clearly emotional.
Harry shakes his head with a smile. “I guess if you had let me do it three years ago, I would have. But now, I’m just fucking impatient.”
They share a smile, as if both silently acknowledge that Harry hasn’t just prepared this moment—he’s filled the house with countless flowers, organized a party for tomorrow, and gathered all the family and friends.
Draco starts to cry softly, a huge smile on his face. “Oh Merlin,” he whispers.
“Draco Lucius Malfoy…”
“Here it goes,” Draco whispers back.
“For the second time in my life, I’m here, in the Astronomy Tower, in front of you, with a ring,” Harry says, opening the little box to reveal the silver band with a diamond. Draco can’t say anything about it because he had asked himself in detail what type of ring he wanted.
Draco bites his lip.
“…Asking you to marry me.”
Draco lets out a tiny sob, and Harry feels tears prick his own eyes.
“I’m so fucking tired, Draco. I’ve waited six years—”
“Five years, seven months, and twenty-one days,” Draco corrects softly.
Harry blinks, shaking his head. “Yes… that much. Fuck, I love you.”
“Sorry, it’s weird—”
“I love it. I love you.”
“Proceed,” Draco whispers.
“You’re just so gorgeous.”
“Did you know that in 2003, England and Wales recorded two hundred and seventy thousand one hundred and nine marriages? Maybe we can elevate that number with just this proposal,” Draco rambles, voice shaking, “even if we won’t actually get married in 2004, but in 2005.”
Harry smiles at him. Oh. He’s nervous too. Harry isn’t the only one.
“My love—”
“Darling,” Draco interrupts softly.
“Please,” Harry breathes, half laughing, half breaking, “I’m so fucking tired of calling you my boyfriend. Let me exercise my French a bit more and…”
He moves the box closer to Draco.
“…call you my fiancé instead.”
Draco blinks through tears. “Oh, I fucking hate you.”
Harry smiles, eyes burning. “Draco Lucius Malfoy—”
Draco sobs outright now.
“Will you do me the greatest honour of my life and be my husband?” Harry asks, smiling through tears.
Draco smiles too, biting down on it, then shakes his head.
Harry rolls his eyes. “Will you marry me?”
“No.”
“Will you marry me?”
“I said no.”
“Can I marry you?”
“No.”
“Draco—”
“No.”
“Draco, will you take me?”
“Dream, Potter.”
“Can I be yours?”
“No.”
Harry smiles, and Draco moves closer, watching as Harry takes the ring and reaches for his hand.
Draco is properly crying now.
“Will you accept?” Harry asks softly. “This stupid, fucking pathetic, and embarrassing proposal?” His voice cracks, raw with vulnerability, the scene painfully similar to the first time they got fake engaged.
“Accept my proposal?” Harry repeats quietly.
“Yes,” Draco breathes, voice shaking. “I fucking will. I fucking accept.”
Harry slides the ring onto his finger and then stands just in time for Draco to grab him and kiss him hard.
Harry laughs wetly against his mouth. “You didn’t slap me this time.”
Draco hooks his arms tight around Harry’s neck. “There’s still time,” he whispers.
On the train ride back, Draco keeps staring at the ring, at the engraving of their initials and the date. “Finally, my name is first,” he says, smiling at D&H.
Harry smirks. “I remembered.”
Draco’s eyes move to the date. '18/06/04.' Then he frowns. “Accepted?” he reads aloud.
Harry flushes. “Yeah. It’s stupid, but on the first ring I engraved Proposal, so on this one I put Accepted.”
Draco smiles with a slight frown. “Proposal Accepted?”
Harry smirks.
“That’s a fucking disgusting and cheesy title for our union.”
“I know.”
“Very fucking stupid.”
Harry smiles even more.
Draco looks again at the ring, then slips it fully into place before glancing at Harry’s. Harry’s ring is gold, with a smaller engraved diamond. Draco’s is bigger, meant to be seen, meant to be shown off, the exact opposite of Harry’s.
“You’re hiding it from the world?”
“No,” Harry says softly. “It’s because it felt as though you were inside my heart, my soul, and my mind, and only a small part of how wonderful you are and how much you mean to me is shown to the world, because you’re mine to see completely, like this diamond.”
Draco bites his lip.
Harry looks into his eyes. “You have diamond eyes.”
Draco hums. “I accept that, then, fiancé.”
Harry smirks, feeling tingly all over, heat rising to his cheeks. “Merci, fiancé.”
Draco smirks at the poor pronunciation, and he puts his head on Harry's shoulder.
"Diamond eyes, 'cause I can see right through them," Harry murmurs. "No hiding or secrets for you," he jokes, a little dazed by the affection of the moment.
Silence lingers between them, and then Draco bites his lip as if he wants to say something. Harry waits.
"You know, Pansy will be so jealous when she sees it," he whispers. "Because Theo could never."
Harry stares at him for a beat, and Draco smirks, adding, "I haven't told you anything."
Oh—so that's who Theo was dating.
As they draw closer to home, his soul swells like a quiet wind, Draco’s hands tracing delicate constellations along his fingers, charting the destinies their lives will weave, while the silent threads that bind them hum through the language of their eyes.
They get off the train, holding hands all the way home.
And the first one Draco shows the ring to is Snowy.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
At number 12 Grimmauld Place, on June 19th, 2004, the withered flowers in a glass vase were removed and replaced with a fresh bouquet of Baby's Breath.