An Unexpected Engagement, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: I don't even know what to say about this. This is my first Drarry, and I hope you like it! Thank you to Jade Presley for holding my hand through the writing and cheering me on; this story is dedicated to you. A huge thank you also to Pierrej92 for giving this a look over! Onto official things: I do not own anything about the Harry Potter world. Smut ahoy! Enjoy :)

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

A young and pompous Draco Malfoy struck his hand between himself and the Boy Who Lived expectantly. What he didn't expect was the way he felt when Harry refused his outstretched hand. Though he was as much a Malfoy as any and could easily hide his true emotions under a blank mask of indifference or anger, he was most like Narcissa, a highly emotional person.

Over his years at school, his peers would only see him as a spoiled bigot. But when he was alone that night, shut up behind the curtains of his four-poster bed, he spilled his emotions out on paper in the form of musical compositions. He'd had piano lessons since he was a child, along with Latin, dancing, basic language and maths, and, once his parents deemed him old enough, Occlumency.

He'd never written music before that night, but he found it came naturally to him. Though he couldn't physically play the songs he wrote as he did so, he could practically hear the notes in his head and feel the next one as if the song had always been there waiting for someone to discover it.

He didn't know why being rejected by Harry made him feel anything other than anger or bitterness. As he composed the song, projecting the sound of each note in his mind, he recognized a wistful sadness that he didn't understand, a longing that he didn't know he could feel.

Draco was alone in the grand ballroom of Malfoy Manor save for the beautiful, antique piano at which he sat. His long, slender fingers played across the keys effortlessly. The music he was playing filled him with the same emotions he'd felt when he wrote the piece.

He remembered writing it during his first night at Hogwarts. He'd been angry when he first started composing the notes, which were harsh, loud and impossible to ignore. Each section of the score was a musical representation of his reaction to Harry Potter refusing to shake his hand.

And no, he thought as he started to play the song again, he hadn't been angry for the reasons one might expect.

Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy estate and Wizengamot seat, was gay. He'd known since fourth year when he had desperately wanted to take Theo Nott to the Yule Ball instead of Pansy Parkinson, or even the more conventionally pretty Daphne Greengrass. It had been a spectacular row between his parents when he confessed his true feelings. He was unofficially betrothed to Pansy, only missing a few signatures his parents were holding off on to make sure the two continued to be compatible as they aged. Though Narcissa and Lucius had been lucky their arranged marriage grew into love, they did not want to risk a loveless life for their son.

They had not, however, expected to be faced with the possibility that the Malfoy line would die with their son. He acquiesced to taking the pig-faced witch to the dance, and forced himself to put away the lingering feelings he felt not only for his best friend but for the dark haired boy with beautiful green eyes.

"Sectumsempra!"

Draco had never heard the spell before but didn't have much time to ponder it as he fell gracelessly to the bathroom floor. Before he felt pain, he registered that he was wet from the water leaking out of damaged sinks nearby. And as he watched his blood swirl endlessly into the otherwise clear liquid, he knew he must be dying.

How poetic, he thought bitterly to himself. He wanted nothing more than to live in a world where he and Harry could be friends or more and yet he was stuck in one where Harry was his mortal enemy.

The music changed dramatically as one song bled into the next. Hopeless and sad, it had been the only song worth writing that year. The Dark Mark that had been burned into his skin and his task to murder Hogwarts' Headmaster had set him officially and firmly against Harry, and Draco cursed himself thinking that was a position from which he could never return — and so this song was born.

The emotionless Malfoy mask crumbled as he flipped the page to the next song.

"What in Salazar's name are you doing?" the shrill voice of Pansy Parkinson sliced through Draco's endless emotions, and his mask slammed firmly back into place. "Oh not this rubbish again," she continued, undeterred by his silence as she came closer to him and snatched the copy of the Daily Prophet from the top of the piano.

"Honestly, for someone employed by the Prophet, you might want to reconsider your language," Draco replied pointedly.

Pansy responded with a glare that told him she was not about to let him change the subject. "Draco," she sighed, dropping the paper back onto the instrument before closing her eyes and gripping the bridge of her nose. "If you would just talk to him, you might find all of this pathetic wallowing is for nothing."

Draco opened his mouth to speak and closed it without saying a word. He sat there silently for a moment before trying once more, only to close his mouth again.

"For fuck's sake, Draco, you look like a bloody fish! Spit it out!"

The piano bench screeched loudly across the floor as Draco stood. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly in an attempt to redirect his myriad emotions instead of taking them all out on Pansy. Mentally he shrugged to himself as he took two steps toward her, she asked for it.

"What in that God damned infantile mind of yours makes you think that Potter would even want to talk to me?"

Pansy stared her friend down, unperturbed by his aggression as she placed one hand on her cocked hip. "Since you asked so nicely, I happen to know he wants to give your wand back."

Draco huffed, rolling his eyes. "Just because you're fucking Weaselbee doesn't mean you know anything about Potter."

Rolling her eyes, Pansy threw her hands out dramatically. "They're all Gryffindors you prat! They're as subtle as a giant at tea time."

"It's been two years!" Draco nearly cut her off. "Why does he want to give it back now?"

Pansy's eyes drifted back to the newspaper, and she deflated. She understood Draco's pain and fear — though she knew he would never admit to being afraid. She felt the magic of the stupid Unbreakable Vow she'd made after a drunken night out pushing against her mind, reminding her not to give away too much. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Pansy centered herself before meeting her friend's gaze once more. She pursed her lips. "You're not the only one doing stupid things to deny his true feelings."

Before he could respond, she'd left the room, and only a few moments later, he felt her magical signature exit the Manor's wards. He sighed and glared at the newspaper. The moving photo showed Harry and Susan Bones kissing in Diagon Alley, but the headline pained him more than the image.

BOY WHO LIVED OUT WITH SEVENTH WITCH IN AS MANY WEEKS

Sun streamed through a small crack in the heavy curtains of Harry Potter's bedroom. He grimaced as the light found his eyes, and he moved his hands in front of his face to block to harshness. He groaned, turning away from the window to grapple for his glasses on the bedside table.

Pain shot through his head as he opened his eyes from behind his spectacles that were now perched on the bridge of his nose. The room swam into clarity, as did the lump of covers next to him. Susan Bones' chestnut brown hair peeped out from beneath the maroon duvet. He sighed, moving his legs over the bedside and wriggling his toes in the carpet. He padded silently to the bathroom where he downed a quick hangover potion and splashed his face with cool water.

He looked up at his fuzzy reflection in the mirror and frowned. How did he end up like this? He was the Boy Who Lived Twice for Merlin's sake. He shouldn't have to spend so much time pretending to be someone he wasn't. As much as he'd personally done for the Wizarding World, they were still as judgemental as ever. Pureblood ideology was ripped from polite society only to have new prejudices grow in its place.

He shook his head, returning his glasses to his face. Poor Hermione was working nonstop to prevent new and improved laws being instated to discriminate against minorities. The Wizarding World couldn't decide on any one group just yet and instead were throwing things at the wall in the hopes something would stick: the poor, people of color, homosexuals. All were already marginally frowned upon, but if the Wizarding World wasn't careful, they would set the stage for a third war.

"For a gay guy, the sex was better than expected," Susan said bluntly as he returned to the bedroom to find her still lying in his bed.

He ran a hand lazily through his mess of jet black hair, unfazed by the fact that the covers had dropped as she sat up, and the light from the window illuminated her pert breasts. "For a girl whose date started with a nondisclosure agreement, you sure stick around longer than expected," Harry bit back more harshly than he'd intended to.

Susan's eyes narrowed, and any man hoping for a chance with her would've reversed course. Harry was not such a man. His jaw twitched as he ground his teeth in annoyance. "I'm sorry," he said finally, though his voice was emotionless. "You use me to further your standing in society, and I use you to keep society off my back about my sexual preferences. I try to make this a nice experience for all involved. I would very much appreciate it if you didn't insinuate you thought I wouldn't be able to get it up."

Susan let out a long, slow breath. "I just didn't realize that was part of the agreement, considering my lack of...you know…"

"Well, I thought you should experience at least one good orgasm in your life," Harry said with a sly grin. His deep green eyes sparkled with charm, and with his pyjama pants slung low on his sharply cut hips, he knew good and well the effect his appearance could have on anyone with eyes. "I've found the more attractive a man looks, the less he tries in bed, and I just don't think that's right."

Barking out a laugh, Susan shook her head. She moved to stand, and clothed herself quickly. "Alright, Harry," she spoke affectionately, "it was cuter when you were humble."

The man merely shrugged and watched her walk across the room moving past him and out of the bedroom. He followed her into the main part of his flat. They said goodbye at the front door, and he took a moment to kiss her knuckles before seeing her out.

Harry sighed loudly as he closed the door behind her, turning back toward the sitting room, happy for the momentary solace. For a single moment, Harry worried the disclosure agreement wouldn't be enough in Susan's case, but he shrugged it off — mutually assured destruction was as good a deterrent as any. At least, it was legal, unlike his first try at telling someone outside of his inner circle, he thought, sweeping away the rush of guilt as quickly as he'd banished his worries about Susan.

Pansy Parkinson giggled uncontrollably, which only made Harry's face redder as he squirmed under her attention. She was draped lazily around Ron Weasley. It was still a strange sight in Harry's opinion, even if he'd gotten used to Gryffindor/Slytherin relationships after Hermione and Theo had come out as a couple months earlier. Nearly a year after the final battle and everything was starting to feel normal. At least, closer to normal than Harry had ever felt in his life.

He watched happily as his friends coupled up. Hermione and Theo had met in court — Hermione being an up-and-coming Ministry attorney, and Theo the rival defense lawyer. Ron and Pansy were more surprising, apparently having bumped into each other at a Ministry function. Blaise and Ginny had first met officially after one of her winning Quidditch matches. He was happy for them, truly, but there was a void inside of him no witch could fill — no matter how desperately he tried to fit one woman after another around the other pieces of his life's puzzle.

It was this balance Pansy had noticed after a couple drinks. She'd interrogated him at the bar, and continued when they all found a table in a secluded corner. Hermione was watching the two carefully, a strange look in her eye.

"C'mon, Potter, you're telling me Daphne Greengrass isn't good enough for you? 'Cause frankly that sounds like a load of shit."

Hermione moved to stand, but Harry threw his arm out to stop her. He swayed slightly on his chair as he brought out his wand. He grabbed a shot from the middle of the table with his free hand, gesturing for Pansy to do the same. The larger group watched with nervous expressions as the already-pissed pair downed more alcohol. Without a flinch, Harry threw the amber liquid back, keeping his eye on her as she followed him. She was curious, that much she showed on her face. Of course, she was always curious, being a reporter for the Prophet, and all. Her job was the reason Harry, in his drunken stupor, thrust his forearm toward Pansy.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What kind of vow are you wanting to make exactly?"

"I don't trust you," he said, his words starting to slur together. She scoffed, but he didn't stop. "Ron seems to trust you, so I'm willing to go out on a limb. Only to shut you up about it!" Harry ignored the concerned looks on his friends' faces. "I propose an Unbreakable Vow!"

Pansy flinched away, shaking her head. "Fuck you, Potter. I thought you were serious." Her lips pursed into a pout.

Harry shook his head as if to clear the alcoholic daze from his mind. "I'm dead serious, Parkinson. Given your career and my information being quite juicy, I can accept no less."

The witch turned to Ron first, gauging his reaction with skeptical eyes. She looked to Hermione next before her gaze returned to Harry. Finally, she sighed with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "This better be good," Pansy said, curling her fingers around Harry's toned arm.

Harry shook his head of the memory, even as his body reacted to the reminder of all the alcohol he'd consumed that night. The next morning had been brutal, and that didn't account for the explosion of Pansy remembering she'd bound her life and magic to protect Harry Potter's dirty little secret.

He heard the chiming of the Floo and rolled his eyes. Could he not have just one moment of peace? He folded his arms across his bare chest as Blaise and Ginny Zabini materialized out of his fireplace.

"Really, Harry, Susan Bones?" Ginny asked incredulously as she moved through the room like it was her own, crossing into the open-plan kitchen to begin pouring glasses of wine.

"How did you even — It's not even noon yet, ya know!" Harry threw his hands up dramatically, but Ginny only smirked.

"It's no use mate," Blaise said calmly, placing a cool hand on Harry's shoulder before crossing the room to perch on one of the cushy leather seats.

"You two are splattered all over the front page of the Prophet, I swear it's like you do this on purpose," Ginny spoke over the island in the middle of his kitchen, stowing the bottle of wine before levitating three glasses. They bobbed gently behind her as she came to sit poised on Blaise's lap.

Harry didn't have the energy for an eye roll at her words or her choice of seat. "You know I do, Gin. I have to keep up appearances."

Blaise's eyes dashed nervously from the red head in his lap to the delusional man sitting across from him. He could feel Ginny's annoyance boiling beneath the surface of her skin, could practically see her muscles twitching to bring the Boy Who Lived to his senses. Part of him was concerned, but a much larger part of him simply loved seeing his witch's power — especially when she used it against someone other than himself.

Meanwhile, Ginny's eyes were locked onto Harry's, who stared back at her ignorantly. She pointedly took a long sip from her glass of wine and swallowed before standing from her husband's lap.

Carefully, Ginny sauntered over to Harry's side and sat next to him, sliding her body right alongside his. It unnerved him, but he still watched her closely, forcing himself not to flinch. The smile spread across Ginny's face was too wide, too kind. It was just a little off, but Harry had never been the kind to pay enough attention to body language — at least, not as effectively as Blaise had. The lone Slytherin in the room watched with a twisted excitement for his beautiful witch to castrate The Chosen One while somehow making the oblivious man smile as she did it.

She took Harry's large hands in her petite ones, cradling them gently. "Harry, dear," she said, evoking such a sweetly laced rage-filled tone it would've made Molly Weasley proud. "You are quite literally the dumbest man alive. How you managed to save us all from the darkest wizard of the century, I will never understand."

"Granger," Blaise cut in, coughing around the word. Ginny and Harry both glanced up at him, one smiling more genuinely and the other dumbfounded. "It's obvious, Potter, that without the brightest witch of our age," he lifted his glass to the woman in absentia, "you would've been dead ten times over," he explained. And then, after a pause — "At least."

Ginny winked at her husband before turning back to Harry, who was squinting thoughtfully. "My point is," she continued, taking up Harry's hands once more and staring into his deep green eyes. "You are only torturing yourself with this...throwing your fake girlfriends at the public thing. No one who matters believes it for a second, and maybe the Wizarding World would change their views if The Chosen One came out."

"You're as gay as Dobby in a tutu, Potter," Blaise cut in again. "Everyone will still love you if you just be yourself."

Ginny turned to Blaise, arching an eyebrow at him and mouthing be yourself? He merely shrugged, and Harry interrupted their silent conversation. "The Wizarding World hates gay people! They call us abominations!"

"Yes, but they love you," Ginny countered, rounding on Harry again. She held her hand up before Harry could argue more, summoning a slender black velvet box from somewhere inside Harry's bedroom.

Harry snapped his mouth shut as the offending item levitated toward them, narrowing his eyes at Ginny angrily.

"Give it back to him," she said simply, taking the box from the air and handing it over to him.

"I —" Harry started, and Ginny shoved the box closer to him. "Fine."

Draco had been watching through the window of his room since early that morning. The letter had said Potter would be there at 10 in the morning, sharp. Draco managed to convince himself he was merely watching over his late father's peacocks when at dawn he called for an elf to bring him coffee and toast in his suite and he levitated a chair to the large window that overlooked the front of the Manor.

He cast a number of Notice-Me-Not charms on himself after he'd finished eating, just in case Potter might look to the window upon entering the grounds. He felt his stomach coil uncomfortably as Potter apparated to a point just beyond the wards and walked through the front gates, which swung open slowly for him after he gave a password.

Draco stood from his chair, watching intently as the man made his way through the front gardens. It was taking all of his self control not to pace or fidget nervously. Harry slowly came closer to the front door and stopped, staring at the large pieces of wood and iron awkwardly. He patted the breast pockets of his robes and nodded to himself as he fingered something square through the fabric. Draco watched, feeling only slightly guilty for spying, as Harry took a few, exaggerated deep breaths and shook out his arms. He watched as Harry stepped forward to knock on the door and stopped, moved to grab his wand and stopped, cleared his throat as if to call out and stopped, grasped the door's handle and stopped.

Smirking, Draco finally left the window and made his way down stairs, dispelling the cloaking charms he'd placed on himself. He decided to put Potter out of his misery and answer the door — something he'd honestly never done in his life. As he got to the entrance, he stopped at the sight of a house elf peering at the door curiously.

"Chitsy? What are you doing?"

The little elf jumped as her master came to stand next to her, looking down at her with calm eyes. "I's is sorry master! Chitsy was just giving Mr. Harry Potter a minute to collect himself, sir."

Draco smiled and gestured for the elf to return from whence she came. "I'll take it from here, Chitsy. Thank you."

The elf nodded, only keeping herself from crying because this master was nothing like his father had been.

Draco's smile slid from his face and was replaced with a sneer as he looked toward the door, grabbing the handle and swinging it open. Potter had been reaching for the same handle from the other side and lost his balance when the door was suddenly gone. He stumbled, nearly falling except for the fact that Draco swooped forward, grasping the man by his forearms and keeping him standing.

Potter's breath was hot against Draco's chiseled cheeks, and he could feel his porcelain skin redden. He only hoped Potter would be oblivious enough to think the color was from anger. "For Salazar's sake, Potter," the man sneered, holding him back at arm's length. "Have you always been this clumsy or are you drunk?"

Sighing, Potter pulled from his grasp and stood squarely in front of him. Draco could feel his nerves swirling and morphing into bitterness. The butterflies in his stomach being translated into a cold curling of his upper lip. "You know I'm getting quite tired of people insulting me today," Potter responded firmly. Before Draco could retort, Potter thrusted a velvet box into his hands.

Draco scoffed, looking down at the rich black box with disdain, the size made it clear that it housed his original wand. Imagining it under the lid brought back memories of the night when Harry took it from him. The night Hermione Granger had been mercilessly tortured in his drawing room, and later he and his family had gotten the same treatment after the Dark Lord realized what had happened.

He shuddered, dropping his hands to his sides and pocketing the box. "Why did you finally decide to return this? What really brings you here, Potter?"

The disdain in Draco's voice was evident, but Potter wasn't deterred. "I thought it was about time I faced all of this."

"And what exactly is all of this?" Draco didn't trust him, not as far as he could throw him — and with all those muscles hiding beneath the man's robes, Draco knew he couldn't throw him far. Maybe just into the nearest wall.

Potter sighed, rubbing his eyes with a tanned, sculpted hand. "I just —"

"Are you looking for a thank you or something?" Draco accused. "For the wand or what happened at the Wizengamot?"

"Malfoy," he heard Potter hiss from behind him. "Malfoy," Potter continued incessantly, his voice coming closer each time he stage whispered his name. "Ferret!" he screamed, and Draco spun around on his heel angrily.

They nearly collided as Potter wasn't expecting to finally get Draco's attention. The proximity made both men anxious in various ways. "Do you really think calling me by the name of a flea-infested animal of which a Death Eater in a professor disguise transfigured me into and bounced me around while the whole school laughed would make me want to talk to you?"

Potter blinked at him stupidly, opening and closing his mouth without making a sound.

"Well?" Draco asked, his tone scathing.

"I just wanted — no I needed to ask you about...about that night at the Manor. Why didn't you tell them it was us?"

"Are you serious? The war is over Potter, why does it matter?"

"It matters to me, Malfoy!" the wizard exclaimed in annoyance. "I'm about to take the stand to help decide whether you come out of this a free man or spend the rest of your life in Azkaban, the least you could tell me is why you didn't tell Bellatrix you recognised me?"

"Actually, Potter, the Wizengamot will not ask you of my motives, they can't ask that of you in a court of law. All they can demand of you are the facts," Draco drawled in response. "You don't need to know why I did anything. All you need to know is that I didn't give you up that night."

Potter seethed in front of him, each intake and exhale of breath brushing his chest against Draco's. The Slytherin's heart betrayed him with each hammering beat as it fluttered nervously against his rib cage. Draco wanted nothing more than to push him into an alcove and show him exactly why he didn't rat them out at the Manor.

"Harry what are you doing?" Ron Weasley's voice sliced through the loaded tension between the childhood enemies. Potter looked up, and the moment was over.

"See you around I guess," Potter mumbled, and Draco watched him walk away with a confusing number of emotions swirling inside of him.

Harry Potter's testimony was the key piece of evidence that acquitted Draco of his crimes.

"You don't need to thank me, Draco," Potter said, bringing Draco back to the present. He faltered at Potter's use of his first name, looking at him curiously.

"Then what are you really doing here, Potter? Surely you're not here on behalf of Hogwarts asking for more money, I've already given them more than the business makes in a month," Draco bit back.

"No, I'm not here to ask about that," Potter mumbled as his gaze dropped from Draco's eyes to his lips while dragging the underside of his tongue along the ridges of his own.

Draco took a step back, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Potter mirrored his movements, stepping forward as his eyes returned to meet Draco's only to watch Draco's gaze drop to his lips. "What are you-what —"

Potter cut him off, pushing Draco up against the very same wall he had envisioned thrusting Potter into earlier. The man's mouth was soft but demanding against Draco's, and he felt his body molding into Potter's as his back met the stone wall.

It felt like a wave crashing over him, overwhelming him, as Potter's tongue begged for entrance with a swipe across Draco's bottom lip. He opened for him, groaning as Potter nibbled at the plump skin before thrusting his tongue inside Draco's welcoming mouth.

Potter tasted of sunshine on a warm day and the adventurous feeling one gets before trying something new. Their tongues battled for dominance as Draco placed one slender hand on either side of Potter's face. He continued the kiss for just a moment longer before pushing Potter away from him. They both breathed heavily, and Potter's eyes were heavy with lust as they gazed upon Draco's dark grey ones.

Draco's lips were starkly red against the paleness of his face, and Potter smirked at how easy it was to muss up the ever-poised Slytherin. "Scared, Malfoy?"

It felt like he'd stolen the breath from Draco's lungs, and he looked at Potter quizzically. He tried to calculate the possibility that this was some kind of prank before deciding to throw caution to the wind and take this as far as Potter was willing to. "You wish," he responded with a matching smirk, and Harry attempted to kiss the smug expression from Draco's face.

Two months later

Pain shot through his head as he opened his eyes from behind his spectacles that were now perched on the bridge of his nose. The room swam into clarity, as did the sight of a naked Draco Malfoy lying next to him. His platinum blonde hair stuck out in every direction. Harry smiled, snuggling closer to his wizard. In Harry's experience, a morning tryst was just as good as any hangover potion.

Harry snaked one of his arms around Draco's slender body, splaying his fingers across his taut stomach. Another arm pushed up through the pillows, and Harry gently brushed the pads of his fingertips along the back of Draco's neck and into his hair.

Draco grumbled, fighting consciousness, but his body had other plans as it melted into Harry's chest. His groans of denial turned into moans of pleasure as Harry's lips caressed the edges of his ear, tracing a pattern down his face and jaw, Harry's tongue leaving a hot trail of wetness all the way.

The need for their mouths to meet overpowered his hope to get back to sleep, and Draco flipped over to face Harry. His hands caged Harry's face, and their mouths crashed against each other in a well-known dance.

Harry made quick work of pulling Draco's body fully across him, positing him on his back as he climbed on top of him. He broke the kiss and nibbled his way down the length of Draco's body. He paused over Draco's chest, taking the time to lap at each nipple, smiling over them as Draco thrust against him, seeking friction.

Finally, after leaving the flesh pebbled and hard, Harry moved his mouth down Draco's stomach as he gripped Draco's hard length in a firm hand. Draco arched into the touch, and bucked his hips as Harry's mouth moved to the tip of Draco's cock. Harry's lips encircled the head, and he slowly slid his mouth down, taking all of Draco into his mouth.

Draco fisted his hands into Harry's jet black hair, attempting to control the frustrating pace, to speed it up, to take more. His breath became labored pants as Harry's warm and wet mouth moved up and down his shaft. "Fuck, Potter," he gasped, "I need—"

Harry's dark green eyes popped up to lock onto Draco's, and they stared intensely at each other as Harry sped up his pace around Draco's cock, causing Draco to thrust more against Harry's face.

"Potter, please, I'm going to —" Draco was mid thrust when Harry's mouth made a soft popping sound as he left Draco's cock throbbing with need. Draco had stopped breathing in the time it took Harry to move his body back across the length of Draco's, and Harry wandlessly and silently cast a lubrication charm. "— ah!" Draco found his breath again as Harry tested his opening with a finger, and then two.

Harry smiled down at Draco, whose eyes were lidded and his thrusts coming faster again. Draco's legs wrapped around Harry's hips as Harry lined himself up against Draco and sheathed himself inside of him with one forceful thrust. Harry held himself above Draco with one hand, setting a quick pace that he matched with his hand gripping Draco's still-throbbing cock. "Fuck," Harry moaned. "So tight," he growled as he pulled out of Draco and pushed himself back inside of him again.

Draco's heels were digging into the muscles rippling across Harry's back, and Draco grasped Harry's shoulders. They stared into each other's eyes, glistening green meeting stormy grey, and Draco's grip slid down Harry's back, his fingernails scratching through the skin in a mix of pleasure and pain that had Harry picking up the pace.

Draco's mouth latched onto Harry's neck, and sweat gleamed off their skin as their grunts and choice expletives came faster and faster. "Come for me, Draco," Harry demanded as he gave three last erratic thrusts into Draco, who spilled obediently into Harry's hand.

Both men were starving for breath, but Draco cast a cleaning charm just before Harry collapsed onto him in exhaustion. Draco curled his body around Harry's, wrapping his arms around Harry's broad shoulders as Harry buried his face into Draco's neck.

Draco began to hum contentedly, the vibration of his throat lulling Harry back to sleep, when the sound of an owl tapping incessantly against the window pulled them both out of their post-orgasm glow.

Untangling himself from Harry with annoyance, Draco padded across the room to the window and let the owl inside. Draco passed a treat from the bowl on the side table to the animal as he untangled the string that attached The Daily Prophet to the owl's leg.

Harry watched with heavy eyes as Draco unfolded the newspaper and anger simmered across Draco's face. "What the fuck is this?" Draco whispered to himself, staring down at the huge headline splashed on the front page.

CHOSEN ONE CHOOSES DEVIANT GAY LIFESTYLE

"What the fuck is this?" Draco said louder, crossing back to the bed and thrusting the newspaper at Harry, who groaned loudly.

Harry sat across from Susan in his office at the Ministry. The door was closed and heavily warded for the duties of the head of the DMLE, and Harry wondered how often the security was used for something entirely different than for what it was intended.

"The agreement is mutually beneficial as long as all of the clauses are met," Harry was saying as he watched Susan scrawl her signature across the bottom of each page. She wasn't paying any attention to him, but Harry had to fill the void of silence around them. "I've had six happy customers so far, you're welcome to ask them." Harry chuckled awkwardly, but Susan continued to ignore him as she dutifully finished signing the papers.

"So I go out with you in public for a week and you invest 10,000 Galleons in my business and philanthropy organizations?" Susan asked matter-of-factly as she made the last swoosh of the pen across the final page.

Harry nodded. "As long as you keep up all appearances and say nothing of our time together except for the talking points outlined in the contract."

Susan smiled and stood. They shook hands over the table. "It'll be nice doing business with you."

"Show me the fucking contract," Draco hissed as Harry finished his story.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he stood from the bed and pulled his pyjama pants on. He grabbed his wand from the nightstand and summoned a blank contract from across the flat where his office was tucked behind the sitting room.

Draco grabbed the flying papers from the air, cutting short its original path to Harry. His grey eyes scanned the agreement with a twitching jaw, his silence merely the calm before the storm. "Are you too cheap to hire a proper lawyer, honestly, Potter?" Draco groaned as he flipped through the last pages while shaking his head in disbelief. "You could take Susan Bones for all she's worth, and all you have here is that she has to give your money back? You're going to take that money back from her orphanages and kitchens?"

Harry frowned. "I hadn't thought of that before. This really hasn't been a problem with the others…"

"The others?" Draco's voice rose an octave. "You used this same contract for all of them?"

Harry nodded dejectedly.

"For the love of Salazar, Potter, what am I going to do with you?" His question trailed off as Draco walked out of the bedroom and moved through the flat with a thoughtful expression.

Harry quickly followed the man into their shared office and watched as Draco moved quickly, sending letters off faster than Harry could count them.

That night found Draco berating Hermione and Theo over dinner as Harry and Ron watched dumbfounded, Pansy and Ginny watched with matching smirks, and Blaise watched with a feigned sense of boredom.

"Moaning Myrtle could poke holes through this thing, and she's intangible!" Draco threw his hands about, his face slightly puffy from lack of oxygen as he ranted.

"Hey now, Myrtle wouldn't be happy you said that. She's just as real as any of us," Blaise cut in with all seriousness, but the group ignored him.

Hermione and Theo held hands under the table against the onslaught of Draco's anger, neither outwardly affected by his words otherwise. Harry was beginning to redden around his ears as Draco continued on and on, as if Harry himself weren't in the room.

"It's as if you wanted him to get betrayed by one of these bimbos! You're the best lawyers in the Wizarding World, and you put your names to this piece of hippogriff dung?"

"Draco, honestly, will you shut up?" Ginny whined, and Pansy raised her glass in agreement before taking a large sip of wine. "Quite frankly, it's about time the world knows about Harry because if anyone can change the way people think about homosexuals, it's him!"

"I agree," Hermione added. "Harry can be the face of minorities across the board to prevent more prejudice from being worked into magical law."

"Why would Harry want to do that?" Ron asked incredulously. "Hasn't he already done enough for the Wizarding World?"

"Why is noone talking about all the things we get to do to that Bones witch now?" Pansy asked on top of Ron's question. Ginny and Blaise both nodded at her words.

"We can start rumors that she's spreading a new and rare kind of disease," Blaise suggested.

"Or we can publicly humiliate her at the next Ministry function," Ginny added.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Marriage has made you two predictable." She turned to Ron and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. "Tell me you won't let me get predictable."

"You'd have to agree to marry me first," Ron snarked back. Pansy smiled indulgently at him and shrugged.

"Harry has done enough for the Wizarding World," Hermione continued, raising her voice to be heard over Pansy's side conversations. "But all he has to do is be honest and help even more!"

"About my sex life, Hermione, this isn't some casual discussion of my Quidditch preferences," Harry urged. "This is private."

"Well," Draco said, grabbing Harry's hand and bringing it to his lips. "None of these people are private about their relationships." Draco gestured with Harry's hand to the couples around them.

"HARRY POTTER IS GAY!" Pansy screamed suddenly, standing abruptly from her chair and throwing her hands in the air triumphantly.

Everyone stopped their chatting and stared in horror at Pansy's outburst.

"Merlin," Harry whispered reverently, joining Pansy as he stood across the table from her. "It's broken! That stupid vow is broken!"

"What vow?" Draco cut in, standing as well and looking between his lover and oldest friend.

"Oh you didn't know?" Blaise asked, a Cheshire cat-like grin spreading across his face as he leaned back in his chair. "These two made an Unbreakable Vow over Harry's sexuality."

"YOU WHAT?" Draco rounded on the pair of them. Harry immediately put his hands up in the air in surrender, and Pansy just arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

"We were pissed, Draco."

"You not only promised your life and magic on the fact that you wouldn't tell anyone Potter was gay but you did it while drunk off your arse?" Draco demanded. "Did Weaselbee actually fuck your brains out or something? I mean, I didn't think he had it in him, but…"

"Draco!" Harry admonished, stepping between his boyfriend and the rest of the table defensively.

"All of you shut up," Blaise cut in once more. "I have an idea."

Everyone froze in place and then turned to Blaise expectantly.

It took less than a week for Blaise's idea to morph into something else entirely. Blaise kept trying to take it back, to bring them all back down to Earth. But the idea had taken hold, and quickly the planning had the media in a frenzy.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were set to make their first public appearance as the guests of honor at the first ever Love is Love block party in Diagon Alley.

The group organized a parade of famous homosexual witches and wizards, with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas taking charge of the opening number, a float in memory of Albus Dumbledore. Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode brought in the caterers, and Padma Patil and Lavender Brown worked on hiring musical acts for the event. Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint, along with Ginny, worked together to bring professional athletes out to sign autographs.

Overall, the party was estimated to raise more than 100,000 Galleons for various nonprofit groups that helped the Wizarding World's youth. Each organization partnered with the event opened their doors and offered services to all witches and wizards.

For Harry and Draco, the event served multiple purposes. They took the narrative back from Susan Bones, who had been ostracized from professional circles in Wizarding communities across Europe. The event would also be their official coming out to the world — and hopefully the last they would have to say on the subject of their romantic relationship. Finally, the party would bring together all of Wizarding Britain's minority populations under one united front. Pansy had been working tirelessly with all of the publications she could get in touch with to properly cover the event, forcing the hands of the Wizengamot to stay their quills on new, prejudiced laws. Some were even spotted at the party.

Only a couple of weeks after the salacious article about Harry's "deviant" lifestyle printed in the Prophet, he and Draco stood in the wings of a huge stage that overlooked the crowd gathered in the streets of Diagon Alley. The neighborhood had never seen so many people at once. Merchants were having nearly as much fun as the revelers, basking in the open pockets of the joyful people.

After Hermione introduced them, Harry and Draco walked to the middle of the stage, waving at the cheering crowd. First, Harry announced the final total of donations made by the event — more than double what had been estimated. Together, Harry and Draco spoke about their reconciliation and how their relationship could provide a symbol of peace to the Wizarding World — a speech both men had not been excited to give.

Finally, as Harry was ready to walk off the stage, Draco grabbed his arm to stop him. "Actually," Draco started, "I have a little surprise for you."

Harry looked at him with a shocked expression, equal parts nervous and intrigued by what Draco had planned. He scanned the front of the crowd to see all of his friends smiling smugly, clearly in on the surprise. When he turned back to Draco, a grand piano had appeared at which Draco now sat.

The crowd stood silently enraptured as Draco played an expertly woven mix of the songs he'd written at Hogwarts — all of which, he'd realized months earlier, were about Harry. Anger, confusion and sadness bled into rage which morphed into hopelessness. As the music swelled to a climax, Draco began to speak calmly, his voice amplified with a Sonorus.

"Potter," he started, glancing behind him quickly to make eye contact with the man who was staring open-mouthed back at him. Draco smirked. "If someone had told me a decade ago, hell, even two years ago that I would be on stage making a fool of myself by professing my love to you like this, I would've had them committed."

The crowd laughed politely, and Draco shot a glare toward them.

"Would you all shut it? I'm trying to have a moment here." Draco cleared his throat, continuing to play as he reviewed his speech in his head, his lips moving quickly like he was reciting the lines again.

"Anyway," he spoke aloud finally, "And yet here I am, because you broke down the walls I'd been hiding behind since the war. You showed me what happiness is. I know we haven't been together that long, but I would be honored if you'd marry me." As Draco finished his monologue, his fingers slowed over the keys, ending on a few measures of hopeful, sweet music. He swiveled around on the piano bench, facing Potter and ignoring the crowd of people with shocked faces at any Slytherin, but especially this one, being so vulnerable in front of everyone.

The front page of The Daily Prophet's evening edition showed Harry saying "yes" and scooping Draco into a passionate kiss. The accompanying story about the proposal and event — and the 250,000 Galleons that had been raised — silenced most of the talks of new, hateful laws.

Five years later

"— and then, just as Harry was about to save the Wizarding World again by kissing Draco in front of all of Wizarding Britain, your Uncle Ron shocked everyone by declaring his undying love for the Chosen One!" Ginny finished her story with a dramatic flourish as three squealing children burst into fits of laughter.

"That's not how it goes, Aunt Ginny," a platinum-blonde, scraggly haired little boy screamed through his giggles. "Daddy and Father kissed and they lived happily ever after!"

"Ah, right, right," Ginny responded with a chuckle as she cradled a dark-skinned little girl with freckles. The girl squirmed and cackled in her arms. "Alright you lot, storytime is over. Off to bed with you!"

As Ginny and Blaise watched in amusement while four children bounded up the stairs toward the bedrooms, Blaise wrapped an arm around his wife's waist. "Their parents will be so mad we let them stay up past bedtime."

"C'mon, they won't tell! We're the coolest of all the parents," Ginny responded with mock offence. "Well," she continued after a small pause, "I'm the coolest mum anyway, I don't know about you."

"Oh, you better run," Blaise hissed playfully as he assumed the tickling position, and Ginny took off up the stairs after the children, squealing much like they had earlier.

"We should just Floo Blaise and make sure Scorp's okay," Draco insisted as he attempted to untangle himself from Harry's limbs.

Harry laughed, taking a deep breath and inhaling the cool ocean breeze as it blew in from the window of their villa on the beach. "Please, Draco, this is our last night! We only get to enjoy our anniversary once a year, let's go grab a late dinner instead." He placed a kiss on Draco's mouth to keep him from protesting. "Blaise knows what you could do to him if even a hair on Scorp's head is misplaced, not to mention your husband is the head of the DMLE."

Draco groaned, conceding to the onslaught of kisses Harry was trailing down his neck. "Fine, but I'm sending my Patronus on the way to the restaurant!" Harry growled, but Draco persisted. "It won't interfere with all of this, and dinner will be over by the time Blaise gets back to us."

"Fine," Harry responded, his lips pressed against Draco's skin as he mimicked his husband's tone. "But when we hear Scorp is tucked safely into bed, you owe me."

Draco smirked, cradling Harry's face in his hands and pulling Harry away from his neck so that he could kiss him properly. "I think that can be arranged."