"Smoking will kill you, you know."
Draco Malfoy exhaled a large puff of smoke and smirked as his lover entered the room.
"So I've heard," he replied. "But we both know risk of death has never stopped me before." He leaned up for a kiss as the brunette seated himself on the edge of the bed. His lover didn't kiss him back. "What's wrong?" Draco asked, putting out his cigarette and giving the man his full attention. Harry sighed.
"We need to talk." Draco didn't like the sound of that. That look combined with that tone of voice could only mean one thing.
"Is it about Weasley?" Harry nodded.
"She's pregnant."
"Yours?"
"Of course."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know."
"Well, fuck."
"Indeed." They were silent for several long moments.
"Have you thought over your options?" Harry shook his head.
"I'm afraid to."
"Don't be ridiculous. They way I see it, you have two choices. You can either stay with me and resign yourself to the fact that it will only ever be you and me. Or…" Draco's voice sobered, gained a slightly pained note of despair. "Or you can marry Weasley and have the family you've always dreamed of."
"It's not that simple, Draco…"
"Of course it is. Make the decision, Harry. We both know who you'll choose in the end."
"You can't possibly know that."
"You've already made that choice, Harry. You make it every time you leave my bed and go home to her. You shag her every night in hopes you'll get from her what you know you can never get from me."
A hard slap shut Draco up immediately. His cheek stung, but it was nowhere near the pain he deserved for that comment.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "That wasn't fair."
"I don't want to marry Ginny. I want to be with you, Draco."
"Why?"
"Because I love you."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do."
Draco shook his head. "You love the idea of being with me, the way we are now. You love the sex, and the fact that I don't control you. You love the 'no strings attached" atmosphere of our relationship, but you don't love me."
"Wrong. I love you. I love the way your eyes light up when you laugh and the way your forehead crinkles when you're concentrating really hard on something. I love the way you kiss me when I come in and the way your eyes flutter closed when I kiss your neck. I love the way your hips buck when you come. Fuck, Draco, I even love the way you bitch and moan when I leave the toilet seat up, even though you're going to lift it yourself when you go to take a piss. I love you, Draco Malfoy. All of you."
"You do realize that two of those were about sex and therefore didn't help your case much, right?" Draco asked, but he was smiling.
"Git," Harry replied, grinning. He sobered almost instantly. "The real reason I came here…" Draco's smile faded as Harry reached into his pocket. "I've already made my decision, Draco." He was holding a small, black velvet box in the palm of his hand. "I'm choosing what I want most in the world." In that moment, Draco felt his heart shatter, the pieces growing cold, like ice. He bit back the tears welling up inside him. He would not cry. He wouldn't let Harry see his pain. The Gryffindor was offering up the box. "Look at it. Tell me if I made a good choice. I'm rubbish with jewelry."
"I don't want to see the ring you picked out for her, Harry. I really couldn't give a flying fuck."
"Just look at it, Draco."
Draco took the box and lifted the lid. The first tear fell. Instead of the small, feminine diamond he'd expected, he found something else entirely—a broad, masculine ring with intricate metal work along the band that encased the stone. Harry's hands took the box from him, gently lifting the ring from its resting place and holding it up to the light.
"Silver for Slytherin," he explained, watching the band sparkle, "and a ruby for Gryffindor. This way you hold us both." Their eyes met. "Draco, will you marry me?"
"Harry…" Draco's voice failed him. Harry grasped the blonde's hand in his own.
"Will you marry me?" Draco nodded.
"Yes."