Title: Yes
Summary: The prompt is "Harry and Draco coming out together at the Ministry's Memorial Ball for the end of the war" from lightacandledontcursethedark on tumblr.
AN: Woo! I made this like a couple weeks after the war ended so it's where the deaths haven't all sunken in yet and people are just super stoked to have survived two wizarding wars.
They would arrive separately, sort of like they did into the world. The important part was that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter would leave together.
The first business of it all had been telling Draco's parents, which was only slightly less difficult than nailing jam to a tree. Lucius had turned his nose up at Harry, declaring that Draco deserved better, et cetera, et cetera.
With the combined efforts of Narcissa, Draco, and The Boy Wonder himself, Lucius would eventually come around to see the actual Harry Potter instead of the one the papers painted him to be when he was a kid.
"It has been twenty-four hours and my father has not had a heart attack, stroke, aneurism, or any kind of kidney failure," Draco declared proudly as he fixed Harry's tie. The dress robes they'd picked out together at Madam Malkin's were absolutely stunning on Harry's broad shoulders and sinewy muscles.
Harry let himself be doted on. "He loves me," Harry decided. "He totally loves me. I'm going to start calling him 'dad' and asking him for fatherly advice." Harry had saved him from Azkaban, so could Lucius even really complain?
Draco snorted, loving that wry and sarcastic drawl that Harry put on. "Oh, I'm sure he'll love that."
"You look beautiful," Harry told Draco for about the hundredth time that night as his eyes flicked down to take him in. Draco always looked beautiful in Harry's humble opinion, but the slick, dark-green dressrobes he had on really brought it all front and center.
Draco smiled before leaning in to give him a kiss as a reward for the compliment. Harry's lips were soft and inviting, and Draco had to actually focus on pulling away if their plan was going to get anywhere that night.
Even when he did, Harry nudged their noses together. "Five more minutes," he murmured.
"Getting cold feet?"
"Nope. Just horny."
"Of course." Draco gave Harry's side a squeeze. "I promise we'll get to that after the Ball. For now, I have to get this prick I know who killed some bald guy in robes that everyone hated so much to the Ministry."
Harry smirked. "Yeah, I guess his presence is important. Ready to go?"
"Very."
Draco took him by the hand and led him to the fireplace so they could floo to the Ministry's event hall and make their grand entrance.
In a swirl of floo powder, a rush of voices rising in excitement and thousands of flashes of camera bulbs from the Daily Prophet, Draco and Harry stepped into one of the only parties that Draco could ever say rivaled a Pansy Parkinson party.
The Ministry really went all out for the whole 'we're not dead' thing.
"Harry Potter! With Draco Malfoy!" the voices roared from outside the landing of the fireplace.
"Look here!"
"Is it true, have you two reconciled for a better future for generations to come?"
"Draco, do you still hate muggle-borns?"
"Were you on the same side all along?"
Harry blinked a few times in the face of the journalists before his senses returned to him. A lifetime in front of cameras had taught him to look beyond the flashes and upwards at the ceiling, which happened to be decorated with silver and gold streams of garland.
Without answering any questions, Draco gave a grin that seemed to reveal nothing and everything all at once.
He and Harry made their way down the winding black staircase and out into the splendor of the Wizarding World. First-class buffets, twirling ladies in festive dresses, and neatly-groomed men all lifting their glasses of Butterbeer and Firewhiskey up to the man who'd saved them all—and his… Date?
The reporters were still shouting out questions even at Draco and Harry's distance from the cluster. It was almost endearing what a complete flock of vultures they were. If Draco closed his eyes and plugged his ears he could almost feel they cared for him. It was sweet.
Just as planned, Harry turned around to face them with Draco's hand in his. "Why, actually, I think we forgot something."
The press practically salivated, screeching and barking at their opportunity to be the first to get a picture of whatever grand revelation was about to ensue.
"Did we?" Draco replied playfully as they strolled back to the magically roped-off Prophet reporters. "Why, what did we forget?"
"Have you caught the remaining escapee Death Eaters?"
"Has your father disowned you?"
"No, no. Nothing as heavy as that," Harry assured the crowd as his coworkers and Draco's coworkers gathered around as well. "It's happy news."
Draco smiled from ear-to-ear. "We really needed to tell you this."
Those were the magic words.
Harry wrapped an arm around Draco's waist, grabbed the scruff of his neck and hauled him in for a long, passionate kiss in full view of the cameras. He'd even gotten him at an angle like Draco had told him to.
The roar of the crowd was deafening.
Draco's hands flew up to cup Harry's cheeks with a smile tugging at the lips that were busy kissing Harry.
One reporter completely lost it and collapsed to the ground, which until his dying day Draco would consider the best reaction to anything he'd ever done, but nobody was thinking about dying right then because if anyone thought about dying for a second longer, they would start crying again.
All eyes were on Draco and Harry who were very much alive, lit like candles in the black-marble room.
When Harry gave Draco one last kiss on the cheek to signal their departure, he felt like someone had turned the world upside-down when he wasn't looking. Harry had no idea which way was up, but he knew which way Draco was, and that was fine by him.
Above the rabble of the reporters all shouting their new lines of questions at the couple, Draco could be heard saying: "May I have this dance?"
"Yes," Harry answered with every bone in his body as he took the arm Draco had offered him. "Yes, yes, yes."