AN: Eek, sorry this one took so long! I also wrote most of it on the day after Donald Trump was impeached because I was so happy I had Drarry dreams all night long. Wishing many Drarry dreams to you, my sweet followers!
Chapter 12: Building a Second Floor
The time had come to face the music, as it were.
Ron and Hermione knew about them, Draco's friends knew about them, and that meant it was only a matter of time until those two worlds collided entirely. The only safe space that could happen in private was the Manor, and it was, in kinder terms than Draco would put it, unfinished.
Draco had finished a first and third floor, but that second floor had never quite fallen into place. It was more than unfinished to him, it was a damned mess, a mark, a stain on his conscience that couldn't be rubbed away so easily.
"I promised I would help you with this," Harry reminded Draco as they stood on the landing of the stairs, staring out into vacant, unfurnished space. "We don't have to finish today, we just have to start."
Starting was undoubtedly the hardest part, but Draco kept that comment to himself. Harry was being a darling, a helpful darling, and he didn't want to shoot that down with some of his on-brand sarcasm and snarking. "It's… intimidating," he tried, voice quiet. "My parents expected me to finish this much sooner than I have, and I can only push off their questions about progress for so long…"
"Then no more pushing off," declared Harry, drawing out his wand. "The next time you see them you can tell them about all the progress we made. Or, well, you made. No pressure to tell them you had help."
Oh, why did Harry have to be so nice and understanding? It was maddening when Draco was feeling so inadequate. "Right," he faltered. "Let's start. First things first—the paint for the library."
The second floor of Malfoy Manor was planned to hold three guest rooms, one parlor with a bar, and a massive library for all of the tomes the Malfoys were allowed to keep after the war. The library was on the East side of the building and their first quarry.
"I want it to feel cozy enough to actually read in," Draco said as they walked the space. "The last one was honestly just a carbon copy of the Restricted Section at Hogwarts both in looks and in content. Wasn't very welcoming for researching. I have a lot of medical scrolls I want to house here, and yes, I have considered and approved your request for a shelf of muggle books."
Harry was excited by the prospect of a library in the house where he lived. "Their fiction is ten times more creative than anything wizarding, I swear," Harry said, feeling quite victorious that one of the most ancient families of wizardingkind was about to have a muggle section in their esteemed library. "They come up with the strangest things. Have you ever read Lord of the Rings?"
"Lord of the what?"
"They were also movies."
"Harry, you know I don't want movies."
"You should," Harry insisted. "Some of them are very good. One day I'll get you to watch Star Wars."
"Is that the one with the silly color-coded outfits?" Draco asked idly as he tried to envision where he would put the couches he had planned for this room.
"No, that's Star Trek."
"Muggles and space, I swear."
"Okay, we're getting distracted. We just need to pick a paint color for the walls. Journey of a thousand wallpaper-ings begins with a single step and all that," Harry reminded him.
Draco nodded. "Right. I was thinking an earthy green with brown molding. It would be nice to get some plant life in here with the large windows providing sunlight."
"That sounds perfect," Harry agreed. "See? Not so hard."
"But the second I commit to a design I want a different one," Draco huffed and threw his arms up. "Would it look better in a maroon with black paneling?"
Harry cocked his head to the side trying to determine what would look better. "Let's try the green first. We need to start working on something before I start to go stir-crazy from standing here staring at a blank wall arguing about it."
"Alright, green it is," Draco sighed, less enthused about it than before. "Are you ready?"
"Ready."
Draco lifted his wand and Harry mirrored the motion. Together they spoke the incantation and an earthen green paint began to ooze down the walls, covering every inch before perfectly stopping at the floor.
Draco felt what he felt whenever he and Harry cast a spell together, unlimited power. If every wizard had a well of spellcasting energy, then Harry's was the ocean. Unending.
It was a simple wall-painting spell, for Merlin's sake, and Draco was standing there like he'd seen benediction.
"I like it," Harry declared, looking around the room at their work completely oblivious to Draco's amazement. "Now, if you really want some place cozy it needs carpeting. Should we do that next?"
Draco, still reeling, was not sure if he was ready for what was going on the floor. This was why it was taking so long, this uncharacteristic indecision he felt towards these rooms. "I just—" Draco stopped himself and shook his head.
"What, what is it?" Harry asked, approaching him to place a hand on his shoulder. Draco was wearing an old Slytherin shirt that was soft to the touch and Harry gently ran his hands over the fabric thinking of how he'd seen him wear this when they were younger.
"It's nothing," Draco sighed.
"No, it's clearly not nothing," Harry pushed.
"I just, I don't know, this whole process makes me feel so nervous. It's stupid, since my parents are never actually going to be able to see any of this, but I keep thinking of what my father would do." Draco turned to Harry, leaning into his touch. "But this isn't my father's house. Not anymore. It's mine, and I have to decide the kind of legacy I want to leave."
"And you think your legacy will be marred by what kind of flooring you pick out?" Harry asked carefully, hoping Draco knew how ridiculous that sounded.
Draco shook his head. "I know, it's stupid."
"Hey, I didn't say that," Harry said and squeezed his shoulder. "It's not wrong to be nervous about what kind of mark you're leaving on the world. I think the one you've left already is a positive one with all of the people you've healed."
"And you really think that can forgive all that came before?" Draco asked, voice quieter.
Harry's face turned to a frown. "Draco, you were a kid when all of that stuff happened to us. And I mean that, 'happened to us', because we sure as hell didn't make it happen ourselves. Everything you've done as an adult, training for and getting a job at Mungo's, that's the life you've made happen. This whole house is what you've made happen. Every inch, every nail and floorboard is yours, and I happen to really like it."
Harry offered Draco a supportive smile and Draco couldn't help but mirror it. "You like living here?" he questioned, the heart of his insecurity.
"Draco, I love living here. I don't care if the walls are polka-dot purple or what kind of flooring you've got, because all of it came from you. I like everything you do here because, well, you do it."
Draco's heart seized in his chest to hear something so sweet that he was so sure he didn't deserve. "Harry…"
"Everything you've done so far looks great. The kitchen, my room, your room—you have good instincts for this kind of thing. Just trust your gut feeling, and this will go a lot faster. Now come on, Draco, what does your gut tell you about this carpeting?"
"That is has to be soft," Draco started. "And probably white. Anything darker and it would hide all kinds of stains and dust."
"There you go. White carpet it is."
"But what if—"
"No, no 'what ifs'. If you want to change it in the future you can, but right now you just need something on this blank canvas," Harry insisted. "You can edit all you like later, but right now you have to make a base to work with."
"Why," Draco sighed. "Is this so hard? Building a second floor, it's maddening. I've got the beginning and the end of the house all worked out, but it's this infuriating middle part I can't seem to make any decisions on."
Harry stayed silent for a long moment, withdrawing his hand as he thought. "Draco," he said. "I know it's scary, but you can't be afraid of failure. Hear me out," he stopped Draco before he could interject with more whining. "You can't be afraid of failure because failure isn't the end. It's just the beginning. If you make it and you don't like it, you can always change it. You are so capable of change, Draco Malfoy, even when it's scary."
The words washed over Draco like the comfort he didn't know he needed. It was like feeling Harry's magic without casting a spell.
"Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"Now, are you ready to put down some white carpet?"
"Yeah," Draco said, giving him a nod. "I'm ready."
"A little to the left… No, no, more to the right—there! That's perfect."
Harry lowered his wand and the final armchair of the room was put in place. Empty shelves lined the walls and in the far corner Draco and Harry had set up a reading nook that looked as comfortable as it was homey.
The shelves were made of light pine with carvings of ancient runes across the shelves spelling out rare incantations. Draco had taken Runes at Hogwarts and found himself fond of the cipher, even if Granger somehow had always outperformed him when it came to tests.
But in the present Draco was pleased, and the room was done and ready to be stocked. "Thank you, Harry, I really couldn't have done this without you. I was experiencing such a mental block with how this house is tied to my family and my sense of self."
"Hey, it's the least I can do while you help me through my stuff," Harry shrugged. "And this is great progress for one day. What do you say we pop a bottle of wine open and celebrate?"
"That," Draco said and pointed at Harry. "Is the best idea you've had all day."
Harry beamed. "You stay here, I'll go get the wine."
Taking a lap around the room and its many empty shelves as he waited for Harry, Draco admired all of the hard work they'd put into this place. He would always remember it as the place where Harry helped him out of his indecision. A lot of things in this house were becoming associated with Harry, a prospect that was as exciting as it was scary.
When Harry returned with a bottle of Pinot Grigio and two glasses Draco happily set them down on the pine table of the reading nook to pour out generous portions.
"To the library," Harry toasted from his armchair.
"To the library," Draco echoed from his armchair and they both drank deeply.
Draco placed his glass down and turned his gaze from admiring the room to admiring Harry. He'd worn a simple long-sleeve shirt and shorts in case any paint had gotten on them. The way he was sitting in the armchair hiked his shorts up ever-so slightly to reveal a soft expanse of thigh.
"You know what?" Draco spoke aloud after a moment of comfortable silence.
"What?"
"I'm going to shag you in every room of this house," he informed him.
Harry's smile and blush broke out at once. "Well, we've already got the bedrooms down, the kitchen, your bathroom, the ballroom…"
"Don't forget the dining room."
"Ah," Harry recalled with a loving sigh, melting back onto his chair. He could see that familiar twinkle in Draco's eye and knew where this was going. "Yes, the dining room. I didn't even know my legs could go back that far."
Draco hummed. "Mmm, so." He uncrossed his legs. "What about that time in the library?" he asked, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What was that like for you?"
Harry considered for a moment exactly how he'd like his evening to go. "Intense," Harry answered, every hair on his arms prickling up under his shirt. "You were so rough with me. I loved every second of it."
A heavy breath left Draco's lungs. How had he found someone so perfect for his every dark twist in him? "On your knees in front of me, now."
Slowly, Harry shifted off of the chair and onto the floor, onto his hands and knees. Head down, his shoulderblades showing through each slink of his body, Harry crawled his way over to Draco and posed on his knees in front of his armchair. "Yes, Daddy," said Harry, resting his chin on Draco's knee. "Whatever you say."
Draco ran a hand through Harry's thick and wild hair, sighing softly at how familiar it felt to him now. "Now that's what I like to hear," he said with a small, smug grin. "You like it rough, pet?"
Harry nodded against Draco's knee, eyes wide behind his thick-rim glasses. "Only ever from you," he whispered. "No one can make me feel like you do."
"No one? That's high praise," Draco said and scratched beneath Harry's chin. "But it's the truth, isn't it—no one can make Harry Potter feel like I can." He was high on that statement alone, wanting to repeat it to himself over and over until it was marked on his soul. "Undo my trousers."
Wasting no time at all Harry followed his orders with a smile on his face, unbuttoning and unzipping Draco's trousers so he could pull them down to his knees.
"Take off my pants, too, no half-measures tonight," Draco commanded, voice firm and resolute.
Harry took off Draco's pants and saw him half-hard already. He licked his lips. "May I kiss it?" Harry requested it.
Draco took a moment as if he were considering it. "Yes, you may."
With a deep breath of Draco's musk Harry pressed his lips to the side of his cock.
"You're going to need to get it wetter than that, sweetheart," Draco taunted him. "It's going in your arse after all. Show me some proper respect."
"Yes, Daddy," Harry spoke and let his tongue slide out against Draco's engorged member. He licked it down and up all the way to the tip where he lightly teased in the slit. A rough hand found its way into Harry's hair, pushing him down on Draco with a yank of his hair, and Harry moaned almost involuntarily. He loved how Draco pulled on his hair to get him to do what he wanted.
It wasn't anything like when Harry pulled out his hair, but maybe it was the same branch of feeling.
Harry took Draco into his mouth, sucking down from the tip and along the shaft, taking deep breaths of Draco in through his nose.
Draco tugged him down harder, pushing all of himself into his mouth, and Harry's heart leapt at how rough the motion was, like he was just a toy to be used. He squirmed in his light blue panties in his shorts and Draco seemed to notice, chuckling to himself.
"I can see you shaking your arse like you want it already," Draco said in amusement. "Such a wanton thing you are, Harry Potter." Draco pulled down on Harry's hair so he could feel the tip of his cock on the back of his throat. "But I'm not through with this hole first. You said you wanted it 'intense', well, I can provide intense."
Harry made a guttural noise as the back of his throat connected with Draco, gagging and pulling back slightly only to have Draco pull him forward again onto it with his other hand.
Both hands in Harry's hair, Draco held him steady as he thrust up into the silken warmth of his throat. Harry was sputtering but still had both of his hands gripping Draco's thighs tightly, silently willing him on. Were it ever to become too much, Harry knew all he needed to do was snap his fingers.
Harry's glasses were still on, fogged and askew as Draco fucked his face with no holding back. His own cock strained against his clothing, ridiculously turned on by Draco's reckless abandon.
"Yes," Draco huffed, controlling Harry's head to get the right angle for his thrusts every time. "You like choking on my cock?" Draco moved Harry's head up and down in a 'yes' motion and Harry moaned in agreement. "That's what I thought." Draco pulled Harry off of him and grinned like a jackal to watch him pant and wheeze.
Trying to catch his breath, Harry coughed slightly and couldn't find words from his raw throat.
"Open wide, you're not done," Draco informed him, dragging his head back down. Harry obediently opened his mouth to take Draco in again and focused on breathing through his nose as his mouth was used for Draco's pleasure.
Harry continued to deepthroat Draco with an unmatched dedication, gagging and having to slide back on occasion but otherwise taking it like a champion while Draco moaned something fierce.
The next time Draco pulled Harry off of him Harry's vision was blurry even behind his glasses but he could clearly see Draco's teeth in his smile. "Darling," said Draco, thumbing away some drool. "Undress. Now." No one had to tell Harry twice. Discombobulated as he was as Draco released his grip, Harry tried to be mindful of the silver eyes on him with his every motion.
Ridding himself of his clothes Harry was performing under Draco's gaze, giving him a one-man show and feeling so, so wanted like never before. He took off the shirt slowly and the shorts fast to show his own arousal through his panties tent where he was generously leaking precome.
Draco's tongue flicked out to lick his lips. Harry was so beautiful, did this man know how beautiful he was? It occurred to Draco that he should probably say it more. "Such a pretty thing," Draco lilted.
"You think so?" Harry asked so genuinely it made Draco's heart seize up in his chest.
"Of course I do. Would I ever lie to you? Hell, would I ever even flatter you if I didn't mean it?" Draco asked, deflecting from his true awe of Harry's body.
Harry cracked a crooked smirk. "You wouldn't," he answered because that was what he liked about Draco. For all of his exaggerations and eccentricities Draco Malfoy was not a people-pleaser, and meant what he said when he said it.
Did Harry have to look so cute when they were roleplaying? Draco shifted in his chair, his cock not having flagged even slightly looking at Harry. "Now, off with the knickers, too."
"Yes, sir," Harry replied in earnest, sliding them off as instructed. When he was done he sat back on his heels, resting on his knees with wide green eyes awaiting further instructions. Harry was hard and prepared to do whatever Draco asked to resolve that situation—considering how fun it was each time.
"Come here," Draco beckoned, extending a hand. Harry gently put his face in the hand so Draco could stroke him under the chin. "You know you're Daddy's favorite, right?"
"Yes," Harry answered almost shyly. "You show me every day."
"Such a good boy. Come closer, climb up on my lap."
Harry brought himself to his feet so he could put a knee on either side of Draco in the large, luxurious armchair. He sat down and felt Draco's cock with a pleased shiver. "Like this?" he asked innocently.
Draco fished his wand out of his discarded trousers and cast a spell to cover his hand in lubricant. "Something like that," he grinned, trailing a finger down Harry's cock and balls to reach back towards his hole. "But I'd like us to be even closer, wouldn't you?" Draco eased in a finger and sighed at how warm he was.
"Yes," Harry breathed, eyelids fluttering behind his glasses. "I would."
Without warning Draco pushed in a second finger, making Harry's toes splay out in surprise. Before Harry could properly adjust Draco pushed in a third and was met with a tight, involuntary clench. "Touchy, touchy. And here I thought you wanted it rough."
"I do," Harry defended almost absurdly quickly. "I do, Daddy. Just—give me a second—"
With a shiver down his body Harry pushed down on Draco's fingers, lowering himself further on the armchair. "That's my boy," Draco soothed, running his free hand through Harry's messy hair.
Draco curled his fingers inside of Harry and watched as his face twisted with discomfort and delight all at once. "Ah, I, I—"
"You what?" Draco asked like he couldn't hear him, curling the fingers again. "Didn't quite catch that."
"Ah, fuck you," Harry laughed and received a spank for his insolence.
"No, fuck you." Draco spread his fingers out and watched Harry's mouth form a perfect circle in a silent moan. "Don't think I forgot about your little request." Draco lined his cock up with the hole above him, pulling Harry closer on the armchair to get the angle right. "I've got a surprise for you once I'm in you."
That made Harry want it all the more. He shifted, trying to get as close to Draco as possible, practically sticking his chest in his face.
"It's to do with that pretty chest of yours," Draco hummed, guiding Harry's hole over him and easing in, fingers falling to the wayside. Each inch went in with a pleasant burn, Draco's girth never failing to impress.
Once both of Draco's hands were free he gave Harry a clap on the arsecheeks just because he could. Much to Draco's delight Harry yipped and clenched around him tighter. Not moving in him just yet, Draco considered it a kindness to let him get used to him while he took up his wand once more.
Draco murmured a summoning spell and in his hand appeared two black devices that Harry had never seen before. "I picked these up at Pride awhile back," Draco narrated, bringing them up to Harry's level of vision. "Nipple clamps. You want intense? I'll give it to you with these."
"I've never tried those before," Harry admitted with a rushed excitement. His hips were swaying gently with Draco in them. "How do they work?"
"You just leave that to me, precious. If they hurt too badly just say the word."
Harry nodded, hips wriggling on top of Draco.
With the thumb and forefinger of one hand, Draco pinched Harry's nipple a few times, pleased to see it perk up from the attention. "Such pretty tits," Draco cooed as he readied an instrument with his other hand. "With this you'll feel how much they bounce when I fuck you."
Draco opened the clamp wide with its rubber tips and pushed it onto the base of Harry's nipple, slowly beginning to close it. "Oh," said Harry in shock when the clamp closed all the way around him.
"How does that feel?"
"Good," Harry answered. Sitting and warming Draco's cock like this was making his own member twitch but now he was really throbbing with this pressure around the most sensitive part of his chest. It almost hurt, almost, but more than that it was so damn hot to look down at.
"And now for the next one…" Draco pinched Harry's other nipple, getting a stray moan to fall from his lips.
Draco pulled Harry's nipple forward and secured the clamp around the base of it, letting go only when he was sure it was in the right place. "Oh," said Harry again, this time a deeper groan. No matter where or how he moved he couldn't escape the tight, tight sensation around his nipples.
Then Draco did something that sent Harry's eyes rolling back into his head. Draco flicked a clamp, sending shocks all the way down to Harry's cock.
Now it was time to move.
Draco started with a slow rock of his hips that built towards bigger motions, hips swirling in tandem with Harry's. Before either quite knew it their bodies were slick with sweat and colliding with one another in fast, loud slaps.
Harry's moans carried over the armchair and into the cavernous library, empty of books for now but soon to be filled. "Draco," Harry sputtered out when his cockhead hit his prostate like that. "Oh, Daddy, that's so good."
With a grunt Draco slammed his hips up as hard as he could, watching the clamps bounce with his manipulations of Harry's body. He could feel Harry tremoring, and looked up from his chest to his eyes to watch them blink away tears.
"Are you—?"
"Don't stop," Harry begged. He needed this repetitive, almost painful stretching more than ever. His chest being clamped only added to the experience, amplifying the sensation of his lower half. He was blushing around the hot tears falling, hoping not to be judged or worse, for Draco to stop. Sometimes Harry had cried when he masturbated, but he didn't do that anymore, not when Draco controlled his every orgasm. "It's good, it's so good."
"So good you're moved to tears, huh, pet?" Draco teased lightly, wanting to talk about it rather than ignore it. Crying during sex was completely natural, especially when submitting, and he wanted to make sure Harry was doing it for the right reasons.
"The clamps," Harry rasped, throat still raw as he bobbed on Draco's lap.
"They hurt, don't they?" Draco grinned, gently pulling on one amidst his thrusts and pulling a deafening groan from the back of Harry's throat. "But you like that sort of thing, don't you?"
"Yes," Harry admitted, voice climbing in pitch. Combined with the shaking of his thighs he could feel himself getting close to the edge, though holding back because he hadn't been given permission yet. "I love it—!"
"Painslut," Draco accused, nails digging into Harry's hips as he fucked him. "I bet I won't even have to touch that cock of yours to make you come."
All Harry could do to keep it together was screw his eyes shut and groan. More tears fell, leaving him feeling vulnerable and almost embarrassed, but that somehow only added to his arousal. "Please," Harry whimpered out, hoping Draco knew what he meant.
"'Please' what? Use your words, whore." Draco pulled on a clamp and felt Harry's whole body react with a jolt.
"Please let me come," Harry begged through the pressure. "Oh, please, Daddy." He'd been hard since Draco had used his throat, and every second in his lap drove Harry further and further away from any semblance of control.
Draco honestly wished he could send images back in time because if he'd been able to see this—this promise of Harry Potter, simpering and whimpering for an orgasm with his pretty pink nipples all bound—this alone could have gotten him through a war.
"Please!" Harry cried out while Draco was waxing poetic in his head about how their rivalry had brought them to this.
Draco huffed slightly, picking up the pace and pushing into Harry with a singular purpose. "Not yet," he warned. "Be a good slut."
"I'm trying, I am—"
"Try harder." Draco gave his arse a firm slap, which was likely more reward than punishment at this point, but the two were interchangeable at the best of times. "Hold it in, and don't you dare release until I tell you to."
Harry let out a pathetic sob and did as he was told, body tensing and shaking with the effort.
"Not yet," Draco taunted with his thrusts in spite of how close he too was getting. "Not yet, not yet, not yet."
Noises that Harry didn't even know he was capable of were coming out of him, caught between sobs and cries of passion. "P-please," he said, voice utterly wrecked.
With a plea like that gracing his ears Draco could hardly hold back himself. "Now," he commanded, and almost instantaneously he felt the warm splash of come on his stomach. The sticky sensation was exactly what he was after, his own peak hitting on the next thrust in.
Harry, finally given his reprieve, felt the tears come on even stronger. "Daddy," he gasped, holding him so tightly it hurt. "Fuck, Draco…"
Hearing his name said like that made Draco shiver even amidst his aftershocks. Their hips came to a stop, both men panting heavily from the effort.
A devious thought entered Draco's mind and he couldn't resist acting it out. He reached forward and tugged on both nipple clamps once more before pressing down to open them once again, removing them from Harry's chest without warning.
Harry could do nothing but cry out, leaking dribbles of come from his untouched cock.
"Good boy," Draco soothed, hands moving up to gently rub his nipples. "Who's my good boy? Come on, tell me."
"I am," Harry shivered, the last of his tears drying. "I'm your good boy."
"You did ask for 'intense'," Draco reminded him.
A little laugh left Harry. "That I did. You always deliver." He reached up and wiped the wetness away behind his glasses, fixing them from being askew. "Fuck, that was incredible."
"Not too much?" Draco asked with genuine concern, reaching up to wipe a tear from Harry's clean-shaven chin.
"Never too much," Harry replied shakily. The feeling of Draco softening inside of him was so intimate he hoped Draco never pulled him off of his lap. Harry never wanted this moment to end, all bleary and hazy in their post-coital bliss. "Just right."
Pride came over Draco, and not just the kind he had for loving men. He was proud of himself, proud of Harry for taking everything he'd dished out so well. "Good," Draco replied, fixing Harry's hair as much as he could before resting his hands on Harry's hips. "You did so well. Never be afraid to cry in front of me."
"Never," Harry responded, blissed out beyond belief.
Unfortunately they had to separate at some point, Draco sliding himself out of Harry and observing the white trail he'd left in him with a smug smile. "Now, what do you say we wash up? Your bathroom, or mine?"
"Yours," Harry answered, grip loosening slightly to look over his shoulders. "Draco?"
"Yes?"
"I think this room looks great."
Draco's smile doubled in size. "Yeah? Well, we've got a whole second floor to build, and I'll need that input for the whole thing."
"I know exactly what 'input' you're after," Harry chuckled. "But yes, Daddy, I would love to."
"Good, good. Now let's clean up—I have more in store for you tonight."
Draco fixed his tie in the mirror, frowning slightly. Something was off about it, and that simply wouldn't do. It wasn't just Draco's normal perfectionism this time around, but instead the concern that he had to present himself a certain way to his lover's best friends.
He had to present himself as harmless but not spineless, and proper but not snobbish. It would be a bit like walking a social tightrope and Draco wasn't looking forward to the effort that would take.
Granger had insisted the meetup be in a neutral location which he could hardly blame her for, what with the history she had with the Manor, and that meant Draco taking the future Granger-Weasleys out somewhere delicious and most importantly muggle.
Draco had a lot to prove when it came to displaying he was no longer a bigot. He had a lot to prove, period, and hoped he'd be given a chance to.
"Here, let me," said Harry when he saw Draco worrying at his tie like that. He stepped in front of the mirror, blocking Draco's view of himself while he undid and retied the Windsor knot. Draco peeked up over Harry's shoulder to get a better look at his face, making sure it was all clear of products he'd used to get ready.
"You look great," Harry reinforced.
"Thank you," Draco sighed, still not really content with his outfit—a black jacket with gold and silver trim along the seams and down the sides of the matching trousers. His tie was at least looking better now. "You look great too, you know."
Harry did a little spin to give Draco a full view of the outfit. The suitjacket was red with black accents and lapels and trousers, no tie but a black ribbon made into a loose bow over a white shirt finishing off the look.
"I feel good about tonight," Harry said, hoping some of his optimism would rub off on his partner. "How are you feeling?"
There was no point in lying, Draco supposed. "Nervous," he admitted. "I did sort of torture you three in school."
"And now the only one you torture is me," Harry reminded him cheerfully with a clap on the back. He rubbed his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Just, uh, maybe don't mention anything about that tonight."
"I wasn't planning on regaling your friends with the details of our sex life, no," Draco chuckled, leaning into Harry's kiss. "I am trying to gain their favor after all, not lose what little of it you've gained for me."
Harry took Draco by the hand and brought it up to his lips so he could kiss every knuckle. "You are going to be just fine," he insisted. "Once they really get to know you they'll like you,"
"I am aiming to at least be tolerated and not have my home broken into again," Draco snarked but stopped himself. "I won't bring that up if they don't, by the way."
"Thank you," Harry said pointedly. "I'm relying on you to try and diffuse tensions here, not raise them. Please."
"You will have nothing to worry about from me," Draco assured him, splaying his fingers out slightly in the grip of their hands. "I'll be on my best behavior, show you how I can be a good boy, too."
"Then maybe I'll show you how rewarding I can be," Harry volleyed right back.
"I'm looking forward to getting home tonight for more than just being done with this meal, then." Draco slid an arm around Harry's waist and gave it a squeeze, turning from the mirror entirely in favor or looking at his Harry head-to-toe.
"Easy, Daddy," Harry grinned, putting a hand on Draco's chest. "We should get going, I want to be the first ones there."
When they arrived at the restaurant they were indeed the first ones there, the establishment bustling with activity this fine Saturday evening. It was a Mediterranean place with an expansive menu that gave everyone lots of choices and a calm atmosphere.
"Reservation under Malfoy," Draco told the maître-d, a sharp-dressed man who led Draco and Harry to a table with two chairs on each side.
"Here is your table, sirs."
Draco pulled out a chair for Harry and the man murmured his thanks as he sat down in it. "Such a gentleman," Harry said with a grin.
"Only for you, my sweet," Draco replied airily, taking the seat next to Harry and sitting down. Even though they had to share the table with two others this was a great date spot, and admittedly Draco Malfoy's first double-date if it was to be viewed that way. "Should we start with a red or a white?" He opened the menu and turned first to the drinks.
"Red sounds good. Hermione likes red."
"Red it is, then." Draco called over their server and placed the order for an expensive vintage. It made no sense to start sparing expenses now when he had people to impress.
"And extra bread," Harry slipped in to the server. "Ron likes bread," he confirmed aside to Draco.
Why did Draco have the terrible feeling this was going to be a long night until his reward? The sinking sensation in his chest became nigh unbearable when he actually laid eyes on the other couple that was meeting them there tonight.
Led through the crowd of tables by a waitress were Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, both dressed for the occasion. They didn't clean up terribly, either. Hermione was in a blazer and loose dress while Ron had on a crisp button-down paired with khaki trousers.
"Hullo," Ron greeted with a wave before pulling out a chair for Hermione as Draco had done for Harry. "Good to see you, Harry." And he meant that, because Harry was positively glowing like he'd been back at his apartment over the Picadillo. Fully alert, fully showered and dressed—it was practically a miracle.
"Hey, Ron, hey, Hermione. Really good to see you, too," said Harry as he adjusted himself in his chair, trying to find a comfortable sitting position for the night. That was easier said than done with how much Harry liked to be spanked in his free time. "Welcome, please, sit."
"Harry," Hermione greeted him warmly. "Malfoy." All the warmth in her voice left to reveal a chilly undertone when it came to Draco's name. Unlike Ron with his break-in to the Manor this was Hermione's first time seeing Draco since the War trials.
"Please," Draco said, trying his best to ignore the ice in her voice. "You can just call me 'Draco', if I'm permitted the same pleasure with your first names."
Hermione pursed her lips for a moment. "Sure, Draco," she tried. He hadn't said anything objectionable or bigoted yet, but she was expecting him to and didn't think this tenuous peace would last long. "Harry," she refocused. "How have you been?"
"I've been great. Been really looking forward to tonight," Harry said as his silent plea for nobody to mess this up, a message received by all three at the table who knew him well enough by now to know what he meant. "And we've been hard at work with the Manor. Just finished up the library last week."
Harry's strategic mentioning of a library caught Hermione off-guard. She raised a brow in interest. "The library?"
"We've moved all of the tomes and scrolls in," Draco nodded, breaking off some bread for himself while Ron quickly claimed a piece of his own. "And we're building up the muggle section with what Harry says are classics. I honestly wouldn't know—I was never permitted to read muggle books as a child. Apparently I have a lot of catching up to do."
"Draco's starting with some Mary Shelley," bragged Harry of his pureblood boyfriend defying his upbringing. "We read it before bed most nights." Meaning Draco read aloud to Harry after raucous sex to tuck him in, but Harry wasn't technically lying by omitting that.
Hermione had not been expecting this. She still found it strange to hear about Draco and Harry living together so soon in a relationship, but even stranger was the thought of Draco Malfoy willingly reading and enjoying muggle books. "Oh?" was all she could say.
"You really ought to come see the Manor sometime," Harry offered. "I think you'd really like it. Draco's ace with figuring out interior decorating stuff, so it's all really beautiful. I've been working on a greenhouse for the outside to start making that beautiful, too."
Draco hid his smile behind his bread.
"Perhaps," Hermione said, still not sure she ever wanted to step foot in Wiltshire again, let alone Malfoy Manor no matter how different it was or how many muggle books it stocked. Still, it was nice to hear Draco was trying.
"And what have you been up to?" Draco asked of the couple before him.
"Work," Ron shrugged as he flipped through the menu. "Work and wedding stuff, mostly. We have most of it figured out but it's like there's always something new—new guests, new traditions my parents want to include."
"Where is it to be held?" Draco asked conversationally.
"The Burrow. My brothers had theirs there and it just feels right to us," Ron explained. "Bill and Fleur, George and Angelina. Percy did it in a church but had a reception at the Burrow."
Draco had almost forgotten about the other Weasley siblings who weren't Harry's best friend or his old beard. It really had been a long time. He remembered getting pranked by the twins—oh, best not say the 't' word, yikes—and remembered how the Dark Lord had crashed Bill and Fleur's wedding.
There was another one, wasn't there? One who liked dragons? It was hard keeping track of all the redhead spawn around Hogwarts.
"Charming," Draco nodded hoarsely. He hoped they knew he meant it. He'd made fun of that little hovel plenty of times in their childhood but as an adult he could see it for what it was—a house of people who loved each other deeply just like his parents loved him. He felt ashamed for ever having taunted Ron about it.
Guilt, shame, everything Draco felt when he looked at his left forearm—now empty but still pulsing with the reminder of what he'd done—was getting the better of him. He thanked the waitress perhaps too profusely when she brought the red wine he'd requested and drank deep once it was poured.
Harry stopped mid-bite into his bread with a realization of his own when the wine came. Fuck, the wedding really was coming up, wasn't it?
Hermione noticed how he gave pause. "What is it?"
Harry swallowed his bread. "Well. I don't want to spring another surprise on you," he said carefully once the waitress was gone.
"Something more surprising than this?" Ron asked, deadpan indicating between Draco and Harry. Draco laughed at that when Ron didn't expect him to.
"Well, it is this. I mean, him," Harry confirmed. Draco raised a brow. "Would it be too late to add a plus one?"
"Oh," said Hermione.
"Oh," said Draco.
"I mean," Harry quickly course-corrected. Had he just gotten himself in trouble with his boyfriend and his best friends at once? New record. "Only if you wanted to, Draco. And only if I could, Hermione, Ron."
Draco decided it best to make his position clear early on and as neutrally as possible. "If Ron and Hermione could make room, I would be honored to, I mean that. But I also understand if you simply can't because, well, when I get married, I'd be furious if someone brought in another plus-one just a few months away." He gave Harry a pointed look.
Hermione allowed herself to laugh a little at that, the thought of Bridezilla Malfoy, or Draco as she was supposed to call him now. Just when she thought her thirties were going to be less bizarre than her twenties... Things really only did get weirder with time. "We're having a buffet, it's really not a big deal to get another chair. Right, Ron?" she said, putting her hand in Ron's lap.
"Yeah, I said early on you should bring a date. Bit unexpected who you chose, but sure, Harry," Ron gave his blessing once he saw Hermione was fine with it.
Harry let out a breath of relief. He really wasn't sure how that would go. "Thanks," Harry said. "Really, thanks."
"You're really okay with it?" Draco pressed. "I love weddings; I happen to think they're one of the most important events in a person's life. Are you positive you want me there at yours?"
Hermione cracked a smile that Draco had never seen before—a genuine one. "I appreciate the concern, I do. I'm positive, yes, because it seems Harry is," she answered honestly. "And I have to tell you that if you hurt him in any way—cheat on him, do him wrong—I will see your end, Draco Malfoy."
"I don't doubt that. You've got a mean right hook, Hermione, and I wouldn't want to meet it again," Draco lifted his glass as if to toast it and drank more.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione all laughed at that, a new and strange sound for Draco to hear all at once.
"And don't you forget it," Hermione chuckled, finally allowing herself to try a taste of the drink before them. "Mmm. Excellent choice in wine."
"Harry tipped me off," Draco admitted. "Might I also recommended the goat here—it's quite juicy."
"So you've been here before?" Hermione questioned.
"Yes, I've been with colleagues a few times," Draco answered, closing his menu as he knew what he was getting. "I'm not particularly close with any of the other Healers but we do get drinks or dinner now and again." And he'd taken some past dates here, but there was no need to mention that.
"You dine at muggle restaurants? Read muggle books? I'm surprised, I really am," Hermione observed approvingly. "Even before Harry?"
"Even before Harry," Draco confirmed. "He has promised to show me several movies as my introduction to film, though. One of the parlors on the second floor will have a television set." When it was their floor to build, why not?
"Wow, a television in Malfoy Manor," Ron tried to imagine. He knew the place looked different now but seeing any digital screen around even the amorphous new Manor in his mind seemed out of place.
"Almost as strange as a Potter in Malfoy Manor, almost," Harry nodded and everyone smiled, about to continue on in conversation when the waitress appeared.
She took their orders and Hermione went with the goat as Draco had suggested.
With the promise of more food coming and his fiancée seeming to warm up a bit, Ron was extra chipper. How could he not be when this was the happiest he'd seen Harry in a long time? "So, Draco," Ron said. "I feel like I barely know the guy dating my best mate. Tell me stuff—what's it like working at the hospital?"
"It's hard work, and often messy, but I love it," Draco confirmed. "Before Harry I spent perhaps too much time there, but now I've got a nice balance between work and life at home." Having Harry to come home to made all the difference. "I have a roster of regular patients who come to me for all their ailments and I know them well. I do get new patients from time to time as well, and some emergency cases. It depends on how short-staffed we are that day."
"I know all about being short-staffed," Hermione nodded. "My position in the Ministry is to assist those underrepresented by magical law and establish protections for them. It's working within existing systems that are flawed, but we get as much good done as we can."
That sounded exactly like the sort of thing Hermione Granger would be best at. "Just like your whole PUKE club back in school," Draco recalled.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "It was 'SPEW', and it still exists today at Hogwarts, you know."
Draco hadn't left any mark on Hogwarts so lasting, or at least not a positive one. "Wow, really? I have to admit I haven't kept up with what happens at our old Alma Mater." He knew McGonagall was Headmistress now but that was about it.
The castle held so many conflicting memories for him. The saddest, the most scared he'd ever been was in his four-poster bed in the Slytherin boy's dorm, but some of his happiest memories were there too.
"I occasionally visit the professors when time allows, and still make use of their library. I have to admit I'm interested in what is in the Malfoy library beyond the new additions as well," said Hermione.
"You're welcome to visit any time," Draco invited her. "The Manor is far from complete, so you'll have to excuse the construction, but if you need anything from my library you're more than welcome to it. We have some collections that have been in the family since, well, always."
"Nothing like old books to get Hermione excited. Probably should have led with that one," Ron joked with Draco. They were still feeling out each other's sense of humor but Ron was finding Draco's to be very similar to Harry's sardonic nature. Perhaps this was why they worked.
They did work, was the crazy thing. Looking between them now Ron could see every little look they exchanged, how in sync they were with each other. It was mad, and sort of brilliant.
"Really, you're welcome any time," Harry insisted. "Just owl me whenever you want to come take a look."
The waitress returned with their dishes, laying each out in front of them full of tantalizing meats in generous spreads. Draco was half-shocked Hermione wasn't a vegetarian with her bleeding heart but kept his snide comments to himself.
Everyone dug in, leaving some dead air on the table that made Harry shift in his seat. He knew it wasn't natural to talk the entire time, but he was still feeling the pressure of hoping everyone got along.
"So," Harry said to chase away the silence once he swallowed.
"So Draco," Ron continued in his line of questioning he hoped didn't look too much like a line of questioning. "How are your parents?"
Draco faltered slightly at the mention of them and on instinct he wanted to block the question with another question. But if real trust was to be had here, then Draco couldn't rely on impulse alone. "They are well," he began. "As you likely know, they are still under house arrest in the France Estate. They keep to themselves, follow all the rules outlined for them in the trial. Mother's taken up painting and baking."
"Do they… know?" Ron pressed.
"They know I won't be marrying a woman or producing pureblood heirs, if that's what you mean," Draco replied. "And soon enough they'll know about Harry."
"How soon?" asked Hermione. "They don't know he's living in the Manor?"
"They don't know much about my personal life. Mother asks, but I don't reveal much. I visit the about once a month and we mostly talk about progress on the Manor." Draco was due for a visit but insisted he was busy with work in all his owls. He could only push off the meeting about a week more before it upset them, so a week more it was.
The frown Harry had on since the mention of Lucius and Narcissa deepened. The last thing he wanted was to pressure Draco into telling them, or worse, have Ron and Hermione pressure Draco into telling them. "It's alright," Harry said quickly. "That's why we want to keep it out of the papers, of course. To give Draco time."
"I am going to have to tell them soon," Draco said softly as if he hadn't heard Harry at all. "And I will." He looked up like it was a promise to Ron and Hermione more than Harry, exactly what Harry had been afraid of.
"I mean, you don't, it's okay," Harry stumbled over his words.
Draco turned to him and gave him a soft smile that made Harry's heart stop. "No, I do," said Draco. "And I will."
Harry's frown turned up into a smile. "Okay," he said, and found Draco's hand under the tablecloth.
"As, uh, nice as that all is," Ron interjected. "Will Harry be safe when you tell your parents?"
"'Safe'? They wouldn't risk leaving the France Estate and throwing away years of good behavior over this," Draco said firmly. He didn't like what Ron was implying but could hardly blame him for being worried for Harry's safety. "Harry and I will be just fine, thank you."
Ron was a watchdog at heart, an Auror with a heart forged of sterner stuff than most. He wouldn't put it past Lucius, the willing Death Eater of the family, to try and get someone on the outside to hurt Harry for this.
Harry was giving him a look for being so callous but Ron couldn't help it these days. He'd seen dark wizards do terrible things in the War and terrible things after it.
"Anyway," Harry cut through the tension. "How are your parents, Ron?"
"Oh, they're lovely. Mum is always asking after you, and Dad has taken to video games. You ought to come visit them sometime. I think they'd like to hear about all the developments in your life," Ron motioned to Draco.
Draco tensed. Would the Weasleys be accepting?
Harry relaxed, knowing they would be. Molly and Arthur just wanted to see Harry happy, he knew that. They'd get over the shock just like Ron and Hermione did, maybe even easier than Ron and Hermione did. "Yeah, that'd be nice," Harry admitted. "I've been avoiding it because, well, I've been depressed, but things are looking up. I'll owl them tomorrow about it."
Hermione was glad to hear Harry speak aloud the presence of his depression, so it was no longer just the ignored elephant in the room. "You've been feeling better?" Hermione asked carefully.
"And I owe it all to Draco," he declared with confidence.
That worried both Hermione and Draco.
"That's hardly true," Draco pushed back gently. "I am glad I can help, but I would argue it's your own strength you owe it to. I like to bring out the best in you because I know you're capable of the best, but you owe me nothing."
Harry wanted to argue that he owed Draco the world but he could see where he was coming from. It wasn't healthy to pin all of one's hopes and dreams of happiness on one person, but Draco just made it so easy to do when he was the world's greatest sugar Daddy.
"While I am his partner first," Draco continued. "I also consider myself a consulting physician on Harry here's health. I can speak to my teaching him coping mechanisms and giving him alleys in which to be successful and free, but I am not the font of this newfound happiness. It is all in you, Harry. It always has been."
Harry gave Draco a wobbly smile. He'd never heard anything so sweet about himself in his entire life. "Thanks, Da—Draco." Harry went red after correcting himself.
Hermione and Ron thankfully didn't think much of the correction.
Conversation continued, staying away from controversial topics like unapproving parents or future admissions this time.
There was a humming in the back of Harry's mind for the rest of the meal, though. At first it was too quiet and obtuse to understand, a feeling with no shape, a thought with no words. It was a burning truth crawling up his throat, a realization he couldn't stop having once it dawned upon him. Looking between Draco and Hermione and Ron, Harry realized the most important people in the world to him were all at this table.
At this table, getting along, were the two sides of Harry's life he'd longed to join—family and partnership. Camaraderie, and love.
That last word echoed in his mind like a struck gong. Love, love, love, love.
Harry looked at Draco and he saw love. He felt love; he could hardly get enough of it. He loved this man, and there was nothing in the world that could change that.
He held onto this love, these three words he wished to say, and tucked them away in his heart for another time. For now Harry didn't need to say anything at all, didn't need to know if Draco felt the same way back. For now Harry could just be in love and cherish every second of it, and cherish all they'd built together.