"And after that?" Harry was having a difficult time understanding why Narcissa had done what Draco was saying she'd done. They had no need for a giant fountain for the roof terrace, none at all, and Harry was of the opinion that Narcissa was attempting to buy Draco's further forgiveness. It didn't seem to have worked, however, as Draco was just as annoyed by it as Harry was.
"I tried to tell her we didn't want it, but she insisted," Draco sighed. "She said that it was pureblood tradition to offer an extravagant gift after one's life was threatened by a family member. I don't remember reading about that tradition in all my years of tutelage, but I did tend to slack when it came to those boring old tomes."
Harry was also surprised to hear that a younger Draco— the blood supremacist, muggleborn insulting, father quoting arsehole who held his pureblood status above everyone else— shirked his education regarding pureblood traditions, but he supposed he didn't really know much about Draco's homelife as a kid. Harry certainly would've done his best not to read any book if it were boring, and especially if it circulated around traditions that instructed you give your son's boyfriend a fucking fountain as atonement.
"Exactly how big is this fountain…?" Unsure of whether or not he wanted to know, Harry asked the hesitant question out of obligation.
"Do you want to come and see it?"
"It's here already?" Harry gasped. "Don't we have to approve these things? How did she get a fucking fountain on the terrace?"
"I put it up there, and let me tell you it was not easy," Draco complained as he began leading the way to the top floor. "I ruined a perfectly good silk shirt by sweating all the way through it."
"Okay, but how?"
"Even shrunken down and with several top-notch lightening charms that thing must've weighed about fifty kilograms." Harry couldn't refrain from imagining Draco trudging up eight flights of stairs carrying a miniature version of whatever monstrosity now sat on their roof, appearing to struggle immensely while holding such a small object.
"I can't believe she gave us a fountain. What use have we got for a fountain?"
"We have no use for it, and I'm beginning to question if my mother is suffering from mental deterioration."
"Like Dementia?" Harry supplied, remembering the one time the Dursleys had been forced to bring him along on their visit to the old folks home one Christmas holiday. It had been one of the scariest things in his life, going there. One old woman was shouting at the top of her lungs, "Help me! I'm in hell!" over and over again. Harry had found it rather funny, though, when an old man nearby her had waved his hands in her direction and yelled, "Ah, shaddap!" They hadn't gone back the next year, thankfully.
"Sure, Dementia, or any of the other multitudes of senile-related disorders. Perhaps more than one." Draco paused at the bottom of a rickety old spiral staircase that led to the terrace and turned to face him. "Now don't get too upset, alright? I had to cast an enlargement charm on the place so the fountain would fit."
"How big is this thing?" Harry asked again, now worried about whether it would risk falling through the roof and killing them all unexpectedly.
"Incredibly fucking big," Draco stressed, speaking slowly. He turned and waved for Harry to follow him up the stairs.
When they reached the terrace all Harry could do was gape. Incredibly fucking big was an understatement. The roof had been enlarged to about double the size it had been and there was hardly any walking room around the gargantuan marble fountain that sat there imposingly. It had a rounded basin, about a metre deep, and in the centre of it was a statue of a mermaid. From her outstretched hands flowed two spouts of glistening, golden water that fell into the basin below, creating waves that rippled out toward the edge. The setting sun gave it an almost ethereal quality and the marble shone with reflections of pink and orange.
"Okay, what in the bloody hell…?" Harry managed before he noticed the overly large breasts of said mermaid and burst into laughter. "Why? Just why?" he choked out between chortles. Each of the mermaid's breasts could fit three of Harry's heads in them. It was ridiculously out of proportion with the rest of her body and Harry had to wonder what horny bloke or lass had decided to create this thing.
"I'm really not seeing what's funny about this," Draco said, sounding rather disgruntled.
"Look at her tits!" Harry pointed, in case— by some miracle— Draco didn't see the meteors protruding perkily from her torso. Her nipples were very long as well, Harry saw, which brought about a new round of guffaws from deep in his belly.
"Yes, well…" Draco appeared to be uncomfortable and wouldn't look at the mermaid for too long without turning away with a sneer. "I'm glad you think this is funny, because I've half a mind to move out of this place and start fresh with a new house that has no room for terrible gifts like this." Harry sobered up at Draco's statement. He sounded serious about it.
"You'd move out over this?"
"Harry, I'd move out regardless. This place is in disrepair. No matter how long we try to fix it up it's going to keep falling apart. Some things will never be able to be fixed because of the Dark curse residue. Not to mention this place is way too big for us."
"Funny, coming from Mr. I-grew-up-in-a-manor-home," Harry snarked.
"Yeah, well… Even so I can recognize when too much is too much." Draco looked a bit shame-faced as he went on. "I've been wanting to bring it up to you, but I know how much this place means to you. We wouldn't have to sell it, but… Really, it's too much work and too much space for the three of us. I'd wager than about ninety percent of this house goes unused. It's sort of creepy to think what could be lingering in those rooms, actually." Harry did have to agree with all of what Draco had said, though he was hesitant to admit it at first.
"I guess I never really put too much thought into it, but you're right. Seven stories is a bit much." He hesitated before adding, "So you didn't mean you'd move out by yourself?" Now that Draco had his Malfoy inheritance back Harry had taken him seriously when he'd said he wanted to move out. He could definitely afford to, if his mother could afford to randomly spend upwards of thousands of galleons on a stupid fountain as an apology gift.
Draco looked aghast at Harry, his mouth popping open in disbelief. "Really? You think I'd leave you because of something my mother did? Harry, love, I hate to break it to you, but you're stuck with me, fountain-giving mother and all. Not to mention, even if I did leave you it wouldn't prevent my mother from giving such outlandish gifts. She always has, but I believe she's outdone herself this time."
"But you do want to move elsewhere?" Draco nodded, his expression somewhere between nervous and hopeful.
Harry looked over at the fountain and absorbed this new information. He was getting used to this house, but did he really enjoy living in it? Though he'd done very well to avoid thinking about it, the house still reminded him too much of Sirius and how unhappy he was living here. His parents had done and said awful things to him in this house and this was where he'd been imprisoned when he'd escaped real prison. Not much of an improvement, if you considered how the bad memories would've affected Sirius. Not quite as bad as Dementors, but nearly so.
This had also been the place where Harry had spent a lot of time during the war and that brought back no good memories either, but even the pleasant ones just made him feel sad now. She'd been so hopeful for their future and now he was living that future with someone else, in the house their story sort of began in.
Harry sighed and shook his head. He didn't enjoy living here much at all. The only reasons he had to enjoy it were the two people who would be going with him if he did move. Like Draco had pointed out, he wouldn't have to sell the house, but they didn't have to live here.
"I should probably think on it a little longer, but I reckon you're right," he decided, and Draco's nervous frown turned into a beaming smile. Harry suddenly found his arms full of a very exuberant blond man, while his cheeks were attacked and smothered in kisses.
"Thank— you— so— much!" Draco said between those kisses, and Harry began chuckling at his boyfriend's happiness.
"How long have you been wanting to tell me this?" Harry asked, suddenly realising just how important this had been to Draco.
"A while," was the honest answer he received. Draco stopped kissing Harry's cheeks red and rested his own cheek on Harry's shoulder, his arms wrapping loosely around him. "Can I start looking for places while you're at work?"
"Sure, I don't see why not," Harry agreed. He knew that if finding a house relied on him it would never get done. He didn't have time in the day for that sort of thing, but he did have time on the weekends to do walkthroughs of houses Draco picked out.
"Thank you," Draco said quietly against Harry's shoulder, and Harry squeezed him in return.
"Let me get this straight," Hermione said, "Because you're not really speaking clearly. Draco met with his mother on Friday and she confessed to him— before he even confronted the matter— what she'd told you already, correct?" Harry nodded. "And then he yelled at her?" Harry nodded again. "And then they went to lunch at a five star Italian restaurant— in Italy— and are now as peachy as ever?"
"That's the gist of it."
"They took Teddy with them?" Hermione asked, her voice going up a pitch.
"Yup."
"To Italy."
"Yes. Mantua, to be exact."
"They took a baby to Italy for lunch."
"I like how that's the thing you're concerned about, and not the part where I mentioned the gigantic-titted mermaid fountain waiting, at this moment, to fall through my roof," Harry said, a bit bewildered. "Or, you know, the fact that we're moving out of number 12. Are those things not as interesting as taking a baby to Italy? Because I had thought—"
"Yes, yes, those things are very interesting, I'm just curious as to why Draco trusted his mother enough to go such a long distance with her, putting Teddy in danger as well." Hermione crossed her arms and frowned. "Did he even tell you he was going?"
"Weren't you the one who said to forgive her?" Harry pointed out. "And yes, he sent his Patronus to me at work to tell me he was leaving for Italy."
"And you thought, 'hm, well that's typical, sounds fine to me?'" Her voice dropped to an amusing level as she mimicked him, rocking her shoulders back and forth with sass as she did it.
"No, I asked to use my instructor's office Floo so I could discuss it with him before he left," Harry drawled defensively in his best impression of Draco. "I'm not stupid."
"Stupid enough to let them go in the first place!" she shouted, throwing her arms out in exasperation. "Really, Harry, how could you let them do something so… so perilous?" Harry scoffed.
"It wasn't perilous. You do realise that Italy has Aurors, too, don't you? And Draco got top marks in DADA, so I'm not worried about his ability to protect Teddy. Narcissa never tried anything to hurt Draco physically and she never tried to hurt Teddy when she was living with Andromeda, so I don't see why you're getting so worked up about this. It was me she was going to kill, not them."
"You're calling her Narcissa now? Last time you were here you referred to her as Mrs. Malfoy. Harry, what's gotten into you?"
"You all asked the same thing when Draco and I first got together and now you're all happy for us," he said, getting tired of defending his actions. "He's actually managed to hurt me in the past and you all got over that once you'd seen how he'd changed, so trust me when I say that I believe Narcissa has the same capabilities as her son." Hermione looked stunned as she sat across from Harry in McGonagall's office. "And you suggested I forgive her in the first place," he muttered petulantly.
Hermione was very quiet for a while and Harry almost got up to leave in her silence, but after a few minutes she spoke.
"Alright, I trust you," she said simply, much calmer than before. "I just worry that with your glass-half-full perspective on things you'll overlook important and potentially dangerous risks."
"Have I ever…" Harry stopped that thought as soon as it started, realising that, yes, he definitely had done exactly what she'd just described. Many times. "Okay, I'll give you that one. But this isn't a war and it isn't Voldemort I have to deal with anymore. Narcissa isn't a great person by any means, but she's his mum and I have to give her a chance."
"I think you've done more than give her a chance already," Hermione murmured, and it was her turn to sound tetchy.
"Not really. I've never liked her before and therefore haven't ever given her a chance. What happened between us in the Forbidden Forest doesn't really count because we both had something to gain by trusting each other at that moment, and we were definitely not concerned with one another." Hermione sighed, relenting finally.
"Fine. Just consult me every once in a while about the goings on in your life, please."
"What do you think I'm doing right now?"
"I mean before you make big and poorly-thought-out decisions," she clarified. "Now, what happened at your interview with Cole?"
Happy to let the subject drop, Harry explained how his interview went. Cole had been ecstatic to see him and had stuck to the questions Harry permitted him to ask, not even trying to push for more than he was willing to offer. Harry did let him take one picture for the article, since more people would be likely to read it in that case. He normally hated getting pictures taken by the press, but if Draco reacted in the way he had on Saturday night every time he had a picture in the paper Harry thought he might do it more often. That had been a blowjob for the records, Harry was sure. Congratulatory sex really was the best.
Cole had jumped immediately on Harry's invite to his speech and promised to record everything just as it went, something Harry genuinely trusted he would do. The interview he'd done on Saturday wasn't due to be printed until Monday morning, but that gave Harry more than enough time to contact the owner of the Three Broomsticks to request their storefront as his venue.
When Harry had asked Cole if he'd like to do all of Harry's interviews for the foreseeable future, Cole's jaw had dropped open and his large blue eyes did too.
"Do you really mean that?" he'd whispered.
"Absolutely. I trust you more than any other reporter I've spoken to since I found out I was famous at eleven years old. You don't improvise or make me look bad on purpose—"
"Have I made you look bad accidentally?" Cole asked frantically in concern.
"No! Not at all, but… I haven't had a good history with newspapers, so it's exciting to know that I have someone who will help me keep up with the public— because we both know it's too soon for me to go into 'hiding'— and also not try and make me look like an idiot in the process. I do well enough with that on my own, thanks," he joked, and watched as Cole started to slowly laugh with him, as though he was unsure if he could or not.
"I can't thank you enough, Mr. Potter!" Cole breathed, still recovering from the shock of being asked to be Harry's sole reporter.
"Please, call me Harry. Also, I've been meaning to ask you, which paper do you work for?"
"The Prophet, but I'm just a small guy still. Nobody's paid me much mind except when I did that first interview with you, and because I haven't got another celebrity interview since then everyone thinks that was my fifteen minutes, as they say." He shook his head, clearly a bit miffed that he was being underestimated and disregarded as a journalist. "I just… I can't be Skeeter. I can't make things up about people and claim I've got my facts from a 'mysterious source.' That's not how I want to build my career, it's not why I wanted to be a journalist."
"That is exactly why I chose you. I could tell you were different the second I met you and when you published that article I knew I was right to let you do that interview. I can't think of someone I'd rather be my regular journalist." Harry returned the beaming smile Cole was giving him. "And I know it'll benefit you as well. You won't have to be another Skeeter, and, though I hate to say it, the more you interview me the more other celebrities will want you to interview them, too."
"Why do you hate to say that? It's the truth. That's how fame works, usually. Once one gets in with the 'big guys' they usually meet more 'big guys.'"
"You're right, I just don't typically like thinking about being famous… I don't much like being famous, either. Can't see a way around it, though, so I have to make the best of what I've got."
Harry and Cole chatted for a while longer and then Harry left to come see Hermione. He figured another physical call was in order, as she'd labelled it, because he missed her and also because he rarely got to see anyone aside from colleagues at work, Draco, and Teddy.
"Alright, then here's what happens next," Hermione said after Harry had finished describing his meeting with Cole. She went on for nearly an hour about the plans she'd come up with for the public speech before she had to cut their time short to do more student counseling.
"You know, I'm getting really tired of listening to these ridiculous problems. Most of the students coming to me are students who are our age or a couple years younger, people who lived through the war and are old enough to understand what happened. They know what it's like to really suffer in life. It amazes me how quickly people forget how bad things can get. You know, when I started doing this I thought I'd be talking to students about PTSD, anxiety attacks, things like that… No. All I hear from these people is how they're devastated that So-And-So isn't talking to them anymore, What's-Her-Face didn't ask them to the Yule Ball, and Joe Blow hasn't returned that borrowed lipstick tube."
"I'd like to meet this Joe Blow who wears lipstick," Harry said with a smirk, laughing when Hermione stared at him with no amusement whatsoever.
"Er… Right. You do realize that that could be taken offensively, don't you?" Harry suddenly felt very self-conscious, and instantly stopped laughing. He hadn't even considered it. To his relief, however, Hermione continued with her rant about students. "Honestly, Harry, I'm getting sick of all this. And the paperwork is dreadful and tedious. I don't know why I decided to do this job shadowing."
"Because you have the most motivation ever," Harry said, paraphrasing Draco.
"Yes, well, I'm about ready to relax for once. I don't think I was this busy even in third year."
"Somehow I doubt that," Harry said, thinking back on her full-to-the-max timetable and everything else that happened that year which required the time turner.
"A bit of an exaggeration, but I really can't stand this. I'll finish out the rest of the year because I know how much it helps Minerva, but I'm definitely not accepting that job for Beauxbatons."
"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "You seemed really excited about it just last week."
"Things change, and sometimes they change quickly. Who knows, maybe by the end of the year I'll love this, but I have a feeling it's only going to get worse as the summer comes nearer." She sighed and shook her curly hair. "Anyway, I've got to kick you out, sadly." Hermione glared at the large pile of paperwork in front of her and then glanced miserably up at the clock on the wall over the desk.
"See you this weekend?"
"Friday. I'm taking a day off classes and job shadowing. I'll be staying at the Burrow for the weekend. Mind if Ron and I stop by?"
"Not at all! See you then."
"Bye, Harry."
Draco picked up the spilled paper cup of water and with a gentle Aguamenti filled it half way again, handing it back to Teddy.
"Try again," he said, trying to sound happy even though he was more nervous than he had been since his first meeting with Narcissa. "You're doing so well, Teddy. You're learning very quickly."
"Ba ba ba ba," Teddy replied seriously.
"Precisely," Draco agreed. Harry came walking quickly into the kitchen, then, distracting Draco from his task teaching Teddy to drink from a cup.
"How do I look?" he asked, sounding just as nervous as Draco felt.
"You look ravishing, love." Draco smiled as he took in Harry's spiffy outfit. It was one of the several he'd helped pick out and Draco had yet to dislike any of them on Harry.
"So do you," he breathed in what was hopefully relief. "Are you ready to go? Hermione wants us to be there early."
"Of course she does. She wouldn't be Hermione if she didn't. And yes, we are." He cast a drying charm on Teddy's stretch and grow and took him from his highchair.
Together they Apparated to Hogsmeade and walked to the stage that George, Arthur, and Bill had built together during the week. Draco hoped that they didn't do it the muggle way like Arthur had suggested; he had a feeling those three, being purebloods without any muggle carpentry experience, could not build a stepping stool, let alone a stage. As they neared the place Harry was to give his speech, Draco could see no nails sticking up or loose boards, so he assumed that George and Bill had talked their father out of it. Now Draco only had to hope that George, with his mischievous ways, hadn't rigged the stage with some sort of trap or prank.
"Harry!" Hermione's voice rang out down the lane from beside the stage. She and two rather large men, as well as a slight of frame girl, stood together in a half-arsed huddle.
"We're here, early, just like you said," Harry said as he adjusted Teddy on his hip and quickened his pace to reach the group. "Who're they?" he asked when they'd reached the four of them.
"This is Reggie," she pointed to the burliest of the three, "And Hector," she pointed to the second burliest, "And this is Endivia." She pointed to the smallest of them and the only female. "They're bodyguards."
"Perfect," Harry said as he smiled at the three bodyguards in turn. "Let's hope we don't need you today." Draco hoped the three of them weren't necessary either, but was grateful to Hermione for thinking of hiring people to protect Harry, should anything go wrong.
"A little action wouldn't be bad," Endivia said, a cunning smirk tilting her lip, a raised eyebrow matching her expectant facial expression.
"I can't get any injuries. I've got a game on Tuesday and I can't be in St. Mungo's if I want to be part of it," Reggie claimed, sounding the exact opposite sort of hopeful that Endivia did.
It struck Draco as funny and ironic that the largest of the three of them was so hesitant to use his brawn, while the smallest of them was prepared for outright battle, by the looks of her. Then again, Draco wasn't all that surprised; strength could come in more ways than one, and it appeared that Endivia had the sort of strength Draco routed for. He vaguely wondered if she was Slytherin, but then she was pretty eager to jump into a fight, so perhaps Gryffindor. Hector could've been from any of the houses, based on the little Draco knew of him, but he decided he would place his private bet and then ask Hermione later to see how accurately he'd guessed. He didn't say anything at all, appearing the strong and silent type and Draco pegged him as a Ravenclaw or Slytherin.
"Have you practiced?" Hermione asked, regarding Harry sternly.
"Only about a thousand times. I think Draco could give the speech for me, he's heard it so often. Actually, Teddy could probably do it, too."
"Yes, I'll be glad to get this over with so I don't have to hear it again," Draco commented.
"Good. Speaking of Teddy, where will he be during the speech? He absolutely is not going up there with you, I won't hear of it."
"No, obviously he won't," Harry said, just as firmly as Hermione. "Draco will have him off stage."
"That's not a good idea, either. He's your partner and therefore a target as well." She turned and faced the reluctant looking Reggie. "You'll take him. Since you've got a game coming up," she said with a disapproving frown.
"I know nothing about infants!" Reggie threw up his hands in annoyance, glancing back and forth between Hermione and Teddy. "What if he gets sick on me?" Probably Slytherin, Draco wagered.
"That'll be a lot easier to deal with than homophobic hexes, won't it?" Hermione countered with. "Remember our bargain."
"Right. Fine, Granger, but after this I don't owe you anything."
Hector continued staring stoically at the small gathering of people that had already formed in the lane while Endivia sniggered beneath her breath. She seemed to notice the crowd as well and put her long, tight curls into a messy looking bun at the top of her head. She'd stopped giggling and sneered meanly at the gatherers. Draco thought he could grow to like the girl; that sneer could rival a Malfoy's.
"Alright, Harry, it's almost time. You should get ready. Hand Teddy over," Hermione ordered. "Reggie, you'll be in the shop and if you see any fights break out, this is the address you'll Apparate with Teddy to." She handed him a small slip of parchment with neat writing on it and Draco briefly hoped she hadn't just given him their address without asking permission first.
"Can I really trust this oaf with my cousin?" Draco asked, his anxiety raising in a split second. Hearing that Teddy would be with a complete stranger was quite different than actually giving Teddy to said complete stranger.
"You can trust him with Teddy," Hermione responded soothingly, patting his arm for a moment before turning back to Harry. "Well, what are you waiting for? You're on in five. Where's Cole?"
"Right here!" came the out of breath reply. Cole Camberwell was sprinting up the lane, weaving between the ever growing crowd and making his way toward the stage. Harry, meanwhile, handed Teddy to Reggie, who looked less than pleased to be holding Teddy. Teddy didn't look much happier with the ordeal, but he didn't start crying. If he had, that would've been the end of Reggie's supervision privileges.
"Excellent, you'll be over there, Cole." Hermione pointed to the ground near the top left corner of the stage, a perfect place for snapping pictures of both Harry and the listeners, and close enough that— should the crowd get rowdy— he would be able to hear Harry over anything else. "Draco, would you prefer to be next to Harry for the speech, or would you like to stay with me?"
"I think I'll choose you," he said, eyeing the crowd warily. He at least wasn't completely hated by society anymore for being a Death Eater, but that didn't mean they wouldn't pick that hatred back up for any reasons they could gather. Being gay in magical Britain was a pretty good reason, statistically. Not only that, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Harry would be better listened to if Draco were not on stage beside him.
"Okay, then follow me. Two minutes, Harry," she shot over her shoulder at him where he stood on the stage.
Following Hermione and trying to match her brisque pace, Draco shot a look at Harry that he hoped expressed his belief in him. From what Draco had heard, Harry was a really good motivational speaker, if he was passionate about what he was saying. Draco was sure that he would do just fine, but he could tell Harry was scared, and for more than one reason. The night before, actually, Harry had worried that being so out in the open would give people a chance to maul him. He'd also worried that too many homophobes would show up and become violent. Draco couldn't really do much to soothe these fears because they were pretty legitimate, realistically. All he could say was, "you'll do fine, I'm sure everything will be okay," which was not Draco's typical brand of outlook. Normally he was ever the pessimist, but when it came to Harry he found himself looking up more often than not.
"Alright, it's starting," Hermione whispered, standing much closer to Draco than he was comfortable with. "Look at all of them! I didn't expect this many people to show up."
"Well, if Harry Potter is there you know everyone else will be," Draco whispered back.
"Where is the lie?" Hermione deadpanned, giving him an amused look.
"Thank you all for coming today," Harry began, his voice magically amplified and sounding strong, to Draco's surprise. It didn't waver at all, unlike how his would've been had he been the one to give the speech. "It means a lot to me, especially when I have something so important to speak to you all about.
"As we all know, the war has only freshly ended. Our world has suddenly become a much more hopeful place without the constant presence of genocide and Dark Lords looming over our heads. We have so much to be thankful for, and so many people to be thankful to, for this fact; however, we still have a long way to go before we've reached success as far as our laws, and the way our country is run, go. No, I'm not referring to Minister Shacklebolt or any of the laws he has passed since being in office. As for my opinion, and that of the great majority, he is the leader we all need right now, so before anyone gets the impression that I'm going to become a political figurehead, let me explain to you why I've come here today to talk to you all.
"Some of you may know this, already, but there are laws restricting something as beautiful as who one chooses to love. There are laws in place that deny people like you and me the freedom to choose our spouses. The laws I am referring to are those that deny people of the LGBT community to wed. These are not the only laws I'm concerned about. Did you know that it's legal for a business to refuse to hire someone due to their sexual orientation? Something that no one chooses, and yet it can be used against them. It's legal for the Aurors to refuse training and employment to someone who is highly qualified, simply because of who they are attracted to. Now, I'm not sure how you all feel about it, but it seems unjust to me.
"Why would it matter? Why should it matter that someone loves another person who is of the same gender as them? Why should it matter if someone identifies as a different gender than the one they were physically born with? What harm is it creating in our society?"
And at that point, as Draco had feared, people began responding to his questions. Draco had suggested that Harry rewrite the script so that there were no questions; that way there would be less of a chance for people to respond and answer those questions. At least until they were home and spiteful in privacy. But Harry had explained that he felt it was important that he leave the option up to the people, what they wanted to think about it. He claimed it would make him manipulative if he were to force people into thinking what he wanted them to. He was right, but Draco knew that if he wanted to change the laws, something people were perfectly happy not doing, he needed to manipulate them a bit. Witches and wizards of Britain were traditional, more often than not, and because of that any form of change that wasn't forced onto them was unwelcome. Harry had called Draco's preferred tactic insidious and backwards, but Draco knew how politics worked, having a father who involved himself in them constantly. Sometimes being insidious was necessary, if you wanted to change someone's opinion.
"What about the children?" One man shouted above the rest. "Are we to let these scum into our shops so they can influence on our children?"
"Yeah! What'll be next, if we let the fags marry each other? Shall we just let people marry their crups, then?"
Draco felt his throat constrict. His breathing became heavy and suddenly he couldn't hear anything other than a loud whooshing in his ears. His vision tunneled and he felt his fingernails digging cuts into the palms of his hands. No thoughts went through his head, no response came from his lips to these horrendous insults to himself and others who weren't 'straight and perfect.' Just whooshing and the sight of Harry's polished shoes on the stage. Nothing else.
"Draco?" came a soft voice. "Draco, can you hear me?"
Suddenly everything went back to normal and he could hear that the crowd had been silenced, though he couldn't register why. Harry was still speaking, albeit more passionately than he had been originally.
"Draco." His head whipped around and he saw Hermione looking at him in concern. "Are you alright? Do you want to leave?"
"No, I'm fine," he gritted through clenched teeth. Hermione shook her head at him in disbelief, but linked her arm in his and tugged him closer to her. As much as he disliked physical contact most of the time, he needed the comfort Hermione was offering.
"Harry's doing the right thing," she said softly. "Thank you for pointing him in this direction. I never realised how horribly people thought of LGBT people."
"It's easy to overlook the plights of the oppressed when you're not being oppressed along with them," Draco muttered, hating how much his voice sounded like his father's when he was upset. Just to ease his discomfort he added, "It's like how I was in school. I'm a pureblood, so I never had to think very hard about what life was like for muggleborns during the war."
"You really have changed," Hermione whispered. She had a stunned look in her eye and was avoiding his gaze, but she hadn't unhooked her arm from his, Draco noticed. He thought he saw a hint of a smile somewhere through her wild hair.
"Hermione, I'm sorry for everything," Draco said quietly, his shoulders stiffening with his expectation of her rebuff. "You're not a mudblood."
"I know." Hermione looked back at him again with wide, nut coloured eyes which held nothing but sincerity. "I forgive you." Draco closed his eyes and let that sink in. One of his bigger regrets was ever making Hermione feel like less than she was. He'd always been jealous of her intellect, her confidence in the face of adversity, and her ability to be the bigger person in situations involving bullying from his end. He'd called her a mudblood so many times… Now that he really understood how close that was to the word he'd been labelled as, the one Harry was now speaking against, he knew he had fucked up. He'd known before, of course, but it was really hitting home at that precise moment.
She'd forgiven him, though. She'd looked him in the eye and pardoned him, and his head felt loads lighter as he absorbed the sweet taste of forgiveness.
"This is why we need to band together and change our laws for the better," Harry was saying. Finding it calming to listen to Harry's voice, Draco looked to his lover and let himself be sucked back into the intensity of his performance. "Hatred is a weed in our garden that will continue to overtake the environment if not removed with love." That was a rather corny bit that Draco didn't really like, but Harry said it reminded him of Dumbledore and that he wanted to keep it. "It takes so much effort to hate something; you have to care a lot about something in order to feel so strongly about it. It takes much less effort to love. It's easy. It's beneficial to you and others. When statements like, 'They're not like us,' and, 'It's an act against nature,' come from peoples' mouths, do you know what I'm reminded of?" He paused. Draco truly liked this part. "Voldemort," Harry said darkly. "Because he said things like that about muggleborns and half-bloods. Only it wasn't 'scum,' or 'faggot,' it was 'blood traitor,' and 'mudblood.' What's the effect that these toxic terms have? Making a group of people feel less worthy of existence. Do any of you know what faggot means?"
"A fag's a cigarette, isn't it?" Someone piped up.
"Well, yes, but 'faggot' has its own meaning." Harry paused, apparently waiting for someone else to answer his question. Just as he opened his mouth to supply the answer, someone in the crowd actually raised their hand. It was a girl with tears in her eyes and quivering lips. Harry pointed to her.
"You, what does it mean?"
"Kindling for a fire." The girl was barely audible, though the congregation was silent around her. Draco could hear the emotion in her voice and was afraid he would join her in her tears if he looked at her for any longer.
"Thank you," Harry said gently. "For anyone who didn't hear her, she said 'kindling for a fire.' And when used in reference to a person… What are you saying then? That they're not worth more than being used to light your Floo connection? Mudblood, faggot… These words are as powerful as each other, though they mean different things. Would any of you refer to your neighbor as a mudblood, after all Voldemort did?" There was a lot of murmuring throughout the large group, most of them sounded as if they were muttering 'no,' and 'of course not.'
"Then why would you use the other word? Both are just as horrible as the other. Do you understand what I mean now? This sort of bigotry is synonymous with the bigotry that ended the lives of people we love, people we know, people who had done nothing but be born into the 'wrong' families, the 'inferior' bloodlines. What choice did they have? And what choice do people of the LGBT lot have? It is the same principal, and to even attempt to deny it… I won't stand for it.
"These laws need to change, and I will be doing everything in my power to start changing them. I know that not everyone here truly believes that being gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or otherwise, is a negative thing. I know for a fact that there are people here who belong to the LGBT group. You have a voice. You have the right to take charge and change the laws just as much as I do, just as much as anyone else does. Don't let anyone degrade you, or try to tell you that you mean less than they do because they copulate with the opposite sex and feel like the same gender as their anatomy suggests. You are important and you deserve the same rights as everyone else.
"My name is Harry Potter. I am bisexual. I am proud."
He stepped away from the lectern and began to walk off stage when someone in the crowd shouted, "My name is Timothy Segrid! I am gay! I am proud!" Harry turned around in surprise and looked out into the sea of people, obviously trying to find who'd shouted.
"My name is Brita Jenkins! I am bisexual! I am proud!"
"— Ronnie Nickels! Proud to be trans!"
"Gay!"
"Lesbian!"
"I don't even fucking like sex!"
"Lesbian and proud!"
"Gary Pulaski!"
"Annabell!"
"Michael!"
"Courtney!"
"Izzy!"
"Grant!"
Draco's head swiveled around, his eyes trying to find his friend at the sound of her name and, sure enough, there was Izzy Turpentine in the midst of the now empowered looking group of people. Nearby her stood Grant, the woman who had not only aided him in gaining a better reputation, but also the woman who had rebelled against society's restrictions blatantly. Not everyone looked as ardent and energetic, but Draco could see that there had been far more people of the LGBT community there than they'd originally assumed there would be. It was a surprise to see Izzy in the group, but it did make Draco happy to know that she at least wouldn't decide to stop being his friend over his sexual orientation.
Looking back up at the stage, Draco could see that Harry was shocked to stillness near the steps down. He seemed so taken aback that anyone was participating in his speech and agreeing with him so vehemently. Seeing just how many people were on their side of things was inspiring to Draco, and if he was accurately judging the look on Harry's face it inspired him as well. As if he could feel Draco's eyes on him, Harry turned to look at him and Draco found his eyes locked on those green ones. Harry mouthed the words 'I love you,' and Draco heard himself gasp.
"I love you too," Draco said back, knowing Harry wouldn't hear him over the shouting masses. Harry jogged off the steps and straight to Draco, who was only half aware of Hermione slipping her arm out of his to make way for Harry slamming into him full force.
"I love you," he said again into Draco's ear. "I love you."
"I know," Draco said, clutching Harry to him as tightly as he could. The sound of the crowd shouting their respective sexualities and pride made his heart swell to an uncomfortable size. "I love you too." Their embrace was cut short by Hermione tugging on Draco's sleeve.
"Look!" she cried, pointing back to the group of speech attendees.
They both turned to see that many people in the crowd were now hugging and kissing each other, people of the same sex and of the opposite alike. Some were simply holding each other as they cried into one another's shoulders, others were kissing passionately and holding on to their partners for dear life, it seemed. There were others, still, who were simply cheering and shouting for joy. The disgruntled people who were taking no part in the sudden festivities were now looking on in awe. Well, some of them. There were more than a handful who looked outraged to be witnessing such a display of love between people of the same sex, or in general.
Then, distracting everyone all at once, came a huge bang and fireworks began exploding in the sky above the stores. Harry and Draco both turned to look at each other and said, "George," which pretty well summed it up.
Somehow, and Draco fully intended to ask how he'd managed to do it, George had arranged for a metric arse tonne of fireworks to go off at just the right time. Everyone in the area stopped snogging and cheering to watch the colourful display as bang after bang sounded.
"I'd better go get Teddy," Hermione yelled above the din, and Transfigured a muggle pen into a pair of ear muffs. "He mentioned a surprise, but I didn't know it would be so loud."
Harry and Draco laughed together and watched as she wandered into the Three Broomsticks to collect Teddy. When Harry's hand slipped into Draco's he felt at peace, though he'd felt pretty close to that to begin with since the speech had ended. It seemed the perfect end to an incredible day, but what topped it off was when the fireworks formed the words 'FRED WAS GAY!' at the very end.
