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Draco has a date planned, and Harry can tell he is up to something.
“Hey, what are you doing in here so late? Come to bed.” Harry beckons from the doorway of Draco’s preferred study. Draco barely looks up from his writing as he answers.
“Just wrapping up a letter to my designer for another gown. I’ll be there in a moment.” He says.
“Alright, love.” Harry yawns. “Make it quick, or I’ll have to fall asleep alone.”
Draco snorts, something which makes Harry smile every time it happens. Draco had been so vehemently opposed to the habit when they’d first been partnered, and now he’s picked it up for himself.
“And wouldn’t that be the worst thing in the world. Go on, I’ll be there shortly.”
Harry wanders off to their bedroom.
The lights are dim and warm and the sheets so cosy and inviting, Harry dozes off before Draco arrives.
“Don’t you look sweet.”
Draco’s voice reaches Harry’s mind like a dream.
The bed dips, and night-chilled arms wrap around Harry. Lips press to his temples.
Humming, Harry shifts closer and twists their legs together.
Harry falls asleep to Draco’s gentle laugh.
The next morning is a frenzy.
Draco nearly always sleeps past Harry, pulling himself together faster than should be possible with a combination of magic and his insane capacity for multitasking.
Today, however, he slept a bit later than usual, and now he’s rushing about, making Harry a tad dizzy.
“Draco, seriously, slow down. I’ll bring your breakfast to eat when we get there. Or we can just be a few minutes late. You’re giving me motion sickness.” Harry complains.
Harry’s sitting on the bed watching Draco Summon his clothes from their places. He has a slice of toast in his teeth and is combing his hair with his left hand.
“Can’ be lay-” Draco says around the toast, and Harry rolls his eyes, taking the toast from his teeth. “Can’t be late. We have that meeting.”
Harry rolls his eyes.
“Fine, then let me at least feed you.”
Draco huffs, but Harry sticks the toast back in before Draco can speak again, and Draco takes a bite obediently.
When they finally arrive at the office, no one would know Draco spent his morning running around like a madman.
The morning is a blur of meetings and case briefings, and Harry is exhausted by the time lunch arrives.
“Cafe across the street?” Draco suggests. Harry nods.
Draco is agitated the whole meal, setting Harry on edge.
He adds too much salt to his chips, nearly knocks his entire plate off the table, and drinks three times the amount of tea as he usually does.
By the end of the meal, Harry puts his hands on top of Draco’s.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, what are you talking about?” Draco says, assuring smile in place even as his eyes say crazy .
“You’re uneasy about something. Is it the Nickerson case? Because we have a full caseload and we can pass that one off to Mendelsohn and Adams.”
“It’s not the- no, I’m fine, Harry. It’s been a wild morning, I’m settling down. Sorry to worry you.” Draco says, finally taking a deep breath. It seems to help, as the tense line of his shoulders finally eases.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. There’s nothing wrong.” Draco smiles. Harry nods.
“Okay. Let me know if you need to take a break, alright? Or if you want to go on holiday again, it’s been a while.” Harry says, gently squeezing Draco’s hands.
Draco looks out the window, seeming to be experiencing an emotion , which isn’t… rare, per se, but he’s usually calm enough to let moments pass by without much fuss. Calm enough that Harry doesn’t pick up on it.
“I will.” Draco tilts his head at Harry, smiling softly. “Maybe we could take some time off soon, yeah? Relax and unwind.”
“Sure.” Harry agrees easily. “Let’s pass off the Nickerson case and we can wrap up the rest by the end of the week.”
Like the morning, the afternoon is over almost as soon as it starts, and Draco and Harry are back in the Manor early enough to get dressed up for their date.
“You’ll love it, they’ve only just opened and require a 100 Galleon charge just for the reservation.” Draco explains as they walk upstairs.
“That’s absurd!” Harry says automatically. Draco waves him off.
“It’s a credit against your dinner cost. But they don’t want people reserving tables and not showing up.”
They go automatically to the guest bedroom with the fancy clothes and the expanded closet.
Harry’s collection of dress robes has grown too much to store them with the rest of his usual clothes, and Draco’s slightly smaller but still robust formal masculine wardrobe fits better here along with his wide range and ever-growing array of dresses.
“Do you mind if I go as Meredith? I’m itching to wear the new dress.” Draco says as they open the closet.
“As long as you don’t mind me buying you a large pizza afterward.”
Draco considers briefly, but agrees.
“That actually works perfectly. We can go to the muggle pizzeria we ate at after one of those things we used to go to.”
“What colour is the one you were writing about last night?” Harry asks as he pulls out his violet robes. Draco glances over, then selects a lovely lavender gown that coordinates perfectly.
“Er- blue.” Draco says.
“Blue?” Harry asks.
“You like the colour, yes?” Draco asks blandly.
“Course I do, you look great in blue. But when you describe clothes, you say ‘a pleasing lavender’ or ‘the most ostentatious scarlet.’ You don’t just say the colour.” Harry points out.
“Very well, it’ll be a fascinating combination of storm grey and ocean blue.” Draco says.
“That’s better. You sure you’re doing alright? You’ve been acting strangely all day.” Harry says, stopping Draco with a hand on his arm. Draco tilts his head.
“I suppose this is what I get for dating an auror, isn’t it. Yes, I’m just a bit preoccupied with making sure everything goes smoothly.”
Harry accepts that answer as it’s nearly time to go already.
Once he’s dressed in his robes and has combed his hair into something resembling intentional , Harry kneels down on the floor in front of Draco, now in his Meredith body, helping him step into his heels.
“Did you want to bring a change of clothes for pizza?” Harry asks.
“I can work with this. Dinner is not as taxing as an event or work, so I should be fine.” He says, arranging his long hair as it’s meant to be.
“Alright. You look breathtakingly gorgeous.” Harry compliments, standing and holding his hand out for Draco to take.
Draco rolls his eyes, the thick black eyelashes making it look so much more dramatic.
“Of course I do. You look mouth-wateringly handsome.” Draco says, lifting gracefully off the bench and tucking his wand into the front of his dress.
“Thank you.” Harry grins, leading them out of the room.
They Apparate straight to the front doors, as there’s no need to use a back alley for a wizarding restaurant.
“Mister Potter! Miss Arabette!” The host greets excitedly.
They’re led to what appears to be the very nicest table in the establishment. Normally, Harry would hate the obvious preferential treatment, but Draco’s been in such a state lately that he’s happy to take advantage of it to please his partner.
“Only the best for Harry Potter, hm?” Meredith says lightly, looking around and likely thinking the same thing.
Harry shrugs.
“And I’ll have only the best for my date.”
Meredith very nearly blushes, an increasingly rare reaction from her. It sends a little jolt of excitement through him.
The dinner is absolutely delicious, and Harry lets Meredith eat as much as she can sneak from his plate. He compensates for it by drinking both of their glasses of wine.
“Let’s get one of every dessert.” Harry suggests with a bright smile. Meredith looks up from where she’s polishing off her pasta.
“ Every dessert? There are nine.”
“And they’re probably all tiny, right?” Harry shrugs. “You love dessert.”
Meredith sighs wistfully.
“I do love dessert. Very well, but you do the ordering.”
“Naturally.” Harry grins.
The waitress looks a bit bewildered by Harry ordering eight desserts and Meredith ordering the last one, but she dutifully brings them all on a large tray.
Meredith’s eyes light up as she sees the variety of sweets, and she thanks the waitress effusively. The waitress blushes crimson before rushing off again.
“I think you may have scared her with your enthusiasm.” Harry says.
“I’m fairly certain I scared her. But I can hardly care, look at these!”
Draco is not a good cook. He’s competent, certainly, but he has a fairly limited range and has favoured learning practical dishes like pasta and meats over the frivolous, like desserts. Harry makes or purchases them often, but Draco still gets extremely excited whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Harry takes a bite of each dessert, but he’s already rather full from his own hearty dinner, so he’s happy to let Meredith have her way with the selection.
“You spoil me.” She accuses just before slipping the last bite of lemon tart between her lips.
“As often as I can.” Harry agrees easily. “Seconds?”
“Oh please, no. I’ve still got to fight my way through a large pizza.” She says with a twinkle in her eyes. “I wouldn’t object to asking if we can buy a full raspberry tart straight from the kitchen to bring home.”
“I think for Harry Potter, they may accommodate that.” Harry winks, and Meredith nearly giggles.
Not that Harry has a single complaint, but it is almost alarming that Meredith is being so transparent tonight. She’s usually much more difficult to read. Draco is easier to decipher than she is.
Harry secures a boxed raspberry tart and pays the bill.
They’re stopped twice before they can leave, but no one comments on Harry’s choice of company, as Meredith is typically only spotted in his company, though she hasn’t been around much lately.
She makes up some big case she’s been working on in America, but most everyone knows so little of non-European climates that they don’t think to ask deep questions.
On the way out of the restaurant, Harry and Meredith pass the bar.
A large, broad shouldered man has one hand on the bar and the other on the back of a woman’s chair. Her shoulders are hunched in and her eyes are looking over his shoulder toward the hallway of the ladies’ loo.
The bartender is eyeing them from the other end, but is in the middle of making another drink.
With one look at each other, Harry and Meredith move in.
“Oh my god, are you Stanley Smith?” Harry exclaims loudly as he approaches.
The man turns to him, taking his hands away from their places and giving Harry a quizzical look.
“ Who? ” He asks.
“Stanley. You must be, you look just like him! We went to school together - Smeltings.” Harry continues whilst Meredith speaks in a hushed voice with the woman, now behind the large man. Harry is a bit surprised that he wasn’t recognised by anyone at the bar.
“My name is Oscar. I don’t know who Stanley is or where Smeltings is, who are you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, you look just like someone I knew. My mistake. I’m Harry, by the way.” Harry stalls, holding out his hand for Oscar to shake.
He does, looking confused. Harry keeps their hands clasped.
“I’m so sorry about this, let me buy you a drink.”
Harry uses the leverage to turn him toward the bar, away from where the woman is quietly leaving with Meredith. He lifts a finger to the bartender.
Oscar allows it. It took a few more seconds of conversation before he turned and noticed the woman was gone.
“Oh, she left.” He says blankly.
“Must’ve slipped off when I came up. Sorry, mate.”
“No matter, I didn’t think she was really interested anyway.” Oscar shrugs.
Harry nudges his arm.
“I know we’re actually not friends or anything, but when I came up, she seemed really uncomfortable. You had her boxed in, and you’re a big guy. It’s intimidating.” Harry says.
“Intimidating! I was just talking to her!”
“ She doesn’t know what your intentions are, mate. Bit of advice, man-to-man, women have a lot more to be afraid of than we do. You have to give them their space and respect boundaries even if they don’t verbally ask.”
“Did you come up to me just to let her get away?” Oscar realises.
Harry shrugs.
“I didn’t go to Smeltings. You seem like an alright bloke and all, but I hope in the future, you take a step back. Literally and figuratively.”
Oscar downs the last of his drink.
“I’m glad you came up, Harry. I didn’t realise-” Oscar shrugs.
“I’m glad you’re not an arsehole.” Harry grins. “I should be off, though. My date is somewhere waiting for me.”
“Did they leave together?”
“Probably.” Harry says warily. Oscar smiles.
“If they’re still together, let Ana know I feel bad and I’ll be staying in here.”
Harry nods.
“I’ll let her know. Nice to talk to you, Oscar.”
Meredith finds Harry as soon as he leaves the restaurant.
“Is Ana still around?” Harry asks as her arm slips into his.
“No, she went home a few minutes ago.” Meredith says. “He knew her name?”
“Yeah, he ended up being pretty nice.” Harry says, and repeats most of their conversation.
“Not all of them are jerks. A lot are just… oblivious.” Meredith shrugs. “Sometimes the jerks are easier to deal with, but I’m always a little glad if it’s just some guy.”
Harry shrugs.
“Maybe he can do the same for someone else.”
They Apparate into the empty parking lot of the pizzeria.
“You want to change now? You’re a bit overdressed for this place.” Harry suggests.
“Hm. Give me a sec.”
Draco concentrates a bit more, changing his lavender dress into a lavender button up and light linen slacks. His shoes become neat brogues, and the rest of his body straightens and slims into the familiar angles and long lines of Draco’s form.
“My turn.” Harry grins, shedding his dress robes to wear just the slacks and button up underneath. Draco shrinks the robes and pockets them.
“Fabulous.” Draco smirks. He takes Harry’s hand and they enter the pizzeria together.
Despite everything Meredith had consumed at dinner, Draco manages to eat most of the pizza, with Harry picking at a single slice the whole time.
“You always eat so slowly after I’ve transfigured.” Draco says. Harry shrugs.
“Because usually I’m already full. I don’t spend the kind of energy you do.”
Draco nods and wipes his hands off.
“Ugh. I think I’ll sleep for a week when we get home.” He says dramatically, downing vast quantities of his soda. Harry watches in amusement.
“I mentioned to Robards that we might be taking some time off soon. We won’t get any new cases for a bit.” Harry says.
“Oh, wonderful.” Draco sighs.
Like before, they wander out of the pizzeria and into the quiet streets.
Harry wonders if the people who work there remember the strange fancy men who come in occasionally - the skinny one eating nearly an entire pizza single handedly while the other watches with a smile.
Draco tugs Harry’s hand in the direction of the Thames, and they slump onto a bench overlooking the water.
“Rivers are my favourite body of water.” Draco says into the night air.
“Is that right?”
“Mm. They’re not the same for a year, always changing, always moving. There’s something wonderful about that.” Draco shrugs. “What’s yours?”
“The ocean.” Harry says without thought.
“Why’s that?”
Harry has to think about it for a moment.
“It’s limitless. Nothing gets in its way.” Harry says. “And looking into the ocean reminds me of your eyes.”
Draco looks over.
“That’s incredibly sappy.” He declares, voice neutral but eyes alight and glimmering in reflection of the distant city lights. Harry could stare into them forever.
“I know.” Harry admits with a small smile.
“Do you remember what we were doing last year today?” Draco asks.
“What’s the date? Second of August?”
“Mhm. You told me you love me for the first time.” Draco says softly.
Harry remembers.
It was just a couple days after his birthday and he’d felt full to bursting with affection for his partner. It slipped out over breakfast in their garden.
“You took five weeks to say it back.” Harry grins.
“It was a very big step for me.” Draco says blandly, though in all the time since then, the anxiety of those weeks has melted into fondness. “And you told me to take my time.”
“I did, and I meant it.”
It’s quiet for a bit, the sound of water and faraway city noise soothing in their insignificance.
Draco turns on the bench so one knee is bent, fully facing Harry. Harry meets his eyes curiously.
“My sweet. Harry .” Draco starts, looking intently into Harry’s face like he’s searching for something.
“Yes?” Harry asks, growing a bit concerned.
“You know how much I- I care about you. I love you.” Draco says.
“Yeah, I love you too.” Harry says. Draco shuts his eyes tightly for a second.
“I love you, Harry. So much. And I love the time we have together. You make me so incredibly happy. You’re funny in a way that’s always unexpected, especially to yourself. You’re smart in the same way, you’ve got a knack for figuring out mysteries faster than anyone else I know. You’re caring - not because of the Saviour complex, although you absolutely have one.”
Harry laughs, his confusion only increasing.
“That’s really sweet of-”
Draco cuts him off.
“Shh. Please. Harry.” Draco shuts his eyes again. “Morgana, I’m so nervous. More I think than when I was on trial, even.”
“Yeah, enough that I can tell. What’s going on?”
“I’m getting there, you have to let me finish.”
Draco takes both of Harry’s hands in his own cold ones, and a couple of his fingers twitch against Harry’s. Harry looks up at Draco’s pale face in alarm.
“Merlin, you’re dying. Are you dying? That’s why you’ve been so on edge lately. Draco, just tell me, please. How long do you have? How long have you known?”
Draco tips his head up, as if the stars could grant him patience. His shoulders shake, and Harry’s anxiety ratchets up a notch.
He’s laughing.
“I’m not dying , Harry.” Draco chokes out. “I knew this was going to happen. I scripted it and everything, but now I’m off-script and I don’t know where to go from here, I can hardly remember what I was meant to say.”
Harry can’t look away from Draco’s face.
“You always know what to say. You’ve never not known what to say. What’s the matter? Out with-”
“Oh my god, Harry!” Draco cuts him off again. “Don’t you know to not interrupt when someone’s proposing?”
Harry’s mouth drops open.
“You’re proposing? ” He squeaks.
Draco drops his head back, laughing long and loud, like he’s heard the funniest joke in the world.
He looks a bit like he’s lost his mind, and his icy fingers squeeze around Harry’s.
“ Yes , I’m proposing!” He finally wheezes. “Merlin, this is the worst proposal in the history of marriage.”
“Draco, really? Seriously?”
Draco’s face sobers in an instant.
“Yes, seriously. Is that a no?”
“Draco-” Harry stops. “How am I supposed to answer that question? No, I won’t marry you? Or yes, it’s a no? That’s a poorly worded question and you should know better.”
Draco scoffs, getting caught up in Harry critiquing his words, but Harry grips Draco’s hands tighter, shifting on the bench.
“Try this: Draco Malfoy, will you marry me?” Harry says softly.
Draco rolls his eyes, glittering with unspilled tears. His voice is watery when he speaks.
“Oh come on, that wouldn’t work. I’m Draco Malfoy. It has to be: Harry Potter, will you marry me. ”
Harry grins at Draco, who is beaming right back.
“Yes.” Harry says, clear and simple.
Draco lifts their hands, pressing a kiss to each of Harry’s fingers and brushing his thumb over the left ring finger.
“If you don’t mind, though. I’d like to finish telling you what I planned on saying.” Draco says. Harry laughs.
“Please, continue to sing of my greatness, I love to hear it.”
It’s sarcastic, but Draco can see through it.
Draco has a difficult time speaking his mind directly when it comes to his emotions. Everything he says is cloaked in sarcasm and dry humour, or else so understated that most don’t even notice when he’s bothered.
Hell, it had taken nearly a year of partnership for Harry to learn the first thing about him. And even then, he heard it from a different face.
“Harry.” Draco says again. “You’re funny, smart and caring. You’ve gone from a savvy schoolkid to an auror I regularly entrust my life to without a second thought. I can’t believe I got a first date, let alone all this time to spend with you. And I never want it to end. I want to die with your name on my lips and your hand in mine, wrinkles and white hair if we make it that long, but I’d settle for dying on the job for a worthy cause or a spectacular death.”
Harry laughs a little, rather misty-eyed himself. Draco squeezes his hand and shuts his eyes.
“I so very selfishly ask for you to make me the happiest man in the world and do me the honour of becoming my husband.”
“Draco, that was beautiful.” Harry sniffles, hastily wiping at his eyes. Draco laughs weakly, blinking away his own tears.
“I hope you treasure this moment because I don’t think I have the constitution to speak so frankly ever again.”
Harry laughs more, pulling Draco’s face close and kissing him wetly.
“I may have to Pensieve this so I can watch this memory over and over every day for the rest of my life.” Harry murmurs against his lover’s lips.
Their foreheads are pressed together as they compose themselves.
“Now where’s my ring?” Harry teases.