AN: Written from the isolation of quarantine, here it is, my kookiest chapter yet. Hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 14: Freaks, Together
At first all Harry heard was tapping. He turned over in Draco's arms, nuzzling against him and away from the light of morning. It was then he heard the squawking.
Harry's eyes opened and he shot up in bed right for his wand on the bedside table. "What in the-?"
"Hmf?" Draco queried from his place in bed still, arms reaching out seeking the heat that had left him so quickly.
Harry saw the commotion at the window and needed to put on his glasses to understand it. "Owls," Harry realized.
"Ugh," Draco groaned. "We need to set up a proper owlery, I hate how they wake us up. Whose is it?"
"It's, uh," Harry began. "Several. Lots. Many." And they were all fighting to scratch on the glass of the window on Draco's side of the bed.
Draco sat up, expecting three, or maybe four owls. There had to be at least twelve. "Merlin's sweet arse. What the fuck." Draco stood from the covers naked and floated a silk robe with his wand directly over to him. Putting it on, he faced the window with wide eyes. "Should I let them in? I don't even recognize some of these."
"That one's Hermione's," Harry pointed out of the tawny barn owl. "And that's Ron's. Why'd they send two separate owls?"
"We should let them in, then." Draco paused. "Harry, I don't do well with animals—"
"I've got it, I've got it." Harry waved Draco away from the window and went to open it himself. 'Daddy' could be such a priss sometimes. "Brace for impact!"
Twelve owls fought to get in at once, some succeeding and some less so, bursting in as one feathered flock.
They dropped their stack of letters with precision on the oaken bureau beneath the window and promptly eyed down Harry until he gave them treats. Draco was only mildly horrified, as he was with all animals, even his father's peacocks when he was younger. They could be vicious.
Harry sent the owls away finally and some of the tension in Draco's shoulders eased.
"What's this?" Harry reached for the top letter on the stack that had scrawled on the outside: READ FIRST. "This is Hermione's handwriting." Harry would know it anywhere.
Draco reached into the stack of letters until he found one that had READ SECOND written on it. "Well then. I guess we read them in order. Is this some kind of weird scavenger hunt wedding invitation thing? I hate those," Draco said because maybe it was worth mentioning what wedding traditions he found tacky to Harry. Try as he might to resist, Lucius' scoldings about taking who he built the Manor with more seriously replayed in Draco's mind at night.
"No, they sent out their invitations months ago." Harry had a strange, sinking feeling in his stomach. "Let's read the first."
Draco came up behind him so they could read it together.
Harry, we are so sorry to give you this news but you had to see it from us first.
And included in the envelope was a clipping of the Prophet.
POTTER AND MALFOY'S KINKY BDSM SECRETS: LIVE-IN HOMOSEXUAL LIES
FULL DETAILS PAGE 4
Included was page four, and five, and six. The article took three pages up.
The main body of page five was not in the usual obnoxious Prophet typeface, though. It was in his handwriting on the page of the magazine he'd written in to.
Submissive man seeking to be kept by a kind, cruel, true Dominant Daddy. I will earn my keep in your home however you see fit. Hardworking, eager, open to anything once. Seeking discipline, structure, empathy and torture. Thin, 168cm. Dark hair, green eyes. Discretion far more important than your means. -H
For a second there was no sound at all.
All of their letters following the ad were here, every single one. The excerpts ended with a 'journalistic' analysis of the contents from none other than Rita Skeeter.
Harry's "Oh," was the first thing to pierce the air.
"Fuck," came next from Draco. "Fucking—"
"Who, who even reads The Prophet?" Harry asked in genuine disbelief. Maybe this wasn't a big deal, and people would see it as a desperate attempt to bring their names down.
An inhuman cold came over Draco's body, pale like he'd seen real ghosts be. "My parents, Harry. My parents read The Prophet."
"What?"
"They know it's trash but they like to keep connected to England! They order two other papers, too!" Why was he defending his parents' choice in tabloids? They had far more pressing matters to worry about. "Harry," Draco refocused. "I have to go right now. I have to, I have to get dressed—"
"What?" Harry asked again because he was still processing this in waves. Where was Draco going?
Draco was going to get dressed. He'd already put on a tight green sweater and was working his way into black trousers as fast as Harry had ever seen him redress. Harry's heart was pounding.
Harry followed Draco into the walk-in closet and tried desperately to ignore the implications of doing that. What was going on? Who had told? "Who could have possibly—?"
"Nope," Draco cut in. "Not now, we cannot even begin to discuss 'who' right now. Now I have to go. Right now. I can still burn it before they see it." He put on the first pair of trainers he saw and made a beeline from the closet to the fireplace in his bedroom.
"Wait!" Harry said, chasing after him again, this time with his own clothing in-hand. "I have an idea, the invisibility cloak! I keep it in a box under my bed—!"
"Yes, that's perfect!" Draco snapped his fingers. They both took off down the hall towards Harry's room, a bit neglected these days but still a comfortable spot to retreat to. Along the way Harry pulled on the trousers and t-shirt because wherever Draco was going, he was going, too.
Harry pulled the cloak out of the box and Draco almost, almost got the opportunity to admire a genuine Deathly Hallow like the storybooks said before he was running back towards the fireplace. It was so gossamer, like woven water. He could marvel at this later.
"I'll go first, bring the cloak," Draco ordered in almost eerily-calm and analytical way. His fight-or-flight-or-freeze instinct had settled on rage, rage against the hand he'd been dealt. Having his unconventional sex life used for the commercial gain of some conservative rag? It lit a fire in his lizard brain. Having his parents read said article? No, that wasn't happening. "France Estate!" he shouted after grabbing a handful of Floo power, not looking back and trusting that Harry would follow.
Draco emerged onto marble tile first and then Harry did.
"Come here," Harry urged, inviting him under the cloak. Draco quickly accepted.
The thing about the invisibility cloak of legend, the Deathly Hallow Harry Potter still possessed, was that it was limited in size. Three children had once been able to fit under with only minor poking out of their feet, but two fully-grown men did not have the same luxury. They were visible up to their knees.
"Fuck, it's too small," Harry whispered.
"It's better than nothing—oh, fuck." Clacking heels were rapidly approaching down the hall. "Harry, you wear it. I'll distract them." Draco ducked out of the cloak and Harry crouched down low to the floor just in time for Narcissa Malfoy to come around the corner.
"Draco! I thought that I heard you come in," she greeted warmly. Even in the morning she wore platformed shoes, always concerned with looking her best. "What's all this about? We didn't receive any owl."
"You haven't checked the mail?" Draco asked quickly.
"No, not yet," Narcissa shook her head, smile twitching slightly. "Is something wrong, Draco?"
"What is going on?" bellowed Lucius from down the hall. "Narcissa?"
"It's Draco, dear," she called back.
"Nobody has checked the mail?" Draco double-checked.
"Draco?" Lucius questioned, coming into sight.
Hidden unmoving under the cloak Harry realized that he'd never seen the Malfoy family like this. Narcissa was in a long, luminous pink nightgown and Lucius was in his morning robes with reading glasses on, unshaven first thing in the morning.
They hardly looked like the vicious power-couple Harry remembered them as. They were older, and more worn than they even had been at the trials.
"Father!" Draco said, stepping in front of where he hoped Harry was so he could cover him. "Good morning!"
"Good morning, son. What is… going on?" Lucius asked slowly. He gleamed suspicion in his eyes.
"Yes, shouldn't you be at work around this time?" Narcissa questioned. "Isn't it a Monday?"
So they really hadn't read anything. Draco let out a breath of relief, but he still wasn't out of the woods just yet. "You haven't visited the owlery out back through the dining room yet today?" Draco asked as he awkwardly tried to put in instructions for Harry.
"No…?" Lucius answered, voice rising slightly in pitch to indicate the deepest of confusion.
Harry took one step, two steps, inching along the back of the room. Could he seriously make it all the way through the dining room? He'd done more dangerous stunts in this cloak, avoiding everyone from Argus Filch to Severus Snape to Draco Malfoy, all of whom knew Harry had the cloak.
Harry summoned that mischievous eleven year-old self's sneakiness and guile, slowing creeping across the room.
Maybe, just maybe he thought as he backed up towards an open archway, they could get away with this. Was this the way to the dining room? Only one way to find out. Harry crept low, knees aching all the way.
This was much easier when he was a kid. Okay, through the dining room. Harry inched that way.
Harry took one step, two steps, and promptly backed up into a high-arching end table holding what he could only assume was a priceless family vase. He had only a second to decide what to do, and he made his choice valiantly. Diving out with hand outstretched Harry caught the vase—only to expose himself through the cloak.
Narcissa was the first to see him, letting out a shocked noise and jumping back in her heeled loafers.
"Harry?" Narcissa questioned.
"Potter?" Lucius demanded.
"Father," Draco tried.
"Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed.
"This is—" Harry said and everyone went unexpectedly quiet. "This is not the outfit I was going to wear to meet you again," he spoke of his t-shirt and plain trousers. It was all he could think to say. "Um." He stood up, letting the cloak fall to the floor behind him in a heap. Harry put the vase back on the table and then turned around to face Lucius and Narcissa. "Hello."
"Is that-?" Lucius asked in complete disbelief. He remembered his father's servants reading Tales of Beedle the Bard to him as a lad and was made a curious child all over again.
"The Invisibility Cloak? Yes," Harry answered, picking it up and walking to Draco's side.
"It is… so good to see you again," spoke up Narcissa before Lucius could get in with anything else. "Harry Potter."
Harry hadn't been expecting that. Draco had, but he was so focused on his father's confused and disgusted facial expression that nothing his mother said mattered. This also wasn't the outfit he'd wanted to wear when introducing Harry to them again. Why, why hadn't he gotten to do this his way? Why had someone robbed him of that moment?
Draco was frustrated enough to cry, so he didn't say anything lest the floodgates open. He was staring at his father with a slight tremble in his lower lip. It didn't escape Harry's notice.
With another step closer Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I'm afraid," Harry said. "We don't come bearing the best of news."
Narcissa, sensing her son's distress as well, clutched her chest in fear of what Harry was to say next. "What is it?"
"Someone, somehow found out about us," Harry started. He could barely start the next sentence before Lucius interrupted.
"I said this would happen," Lucius pointed out, glumly smug about it all. "Didn't I, Cissa?"
"Draco," Narcissa said, ignoring her husband entirely. "What is going on?"
Draco took a deep, shuddery breath. "I need you," Draco said shakily. "To trust me when I say you cannot read this copy of The Prophet. Ever. Please. There are just some things—some things that a parent shouldn't see."
Lucius let out a belabored sigh, putting his hand over his face. "Is it photos?" he drawled in his deep, posh voice. "Please tell me I raised a son with enough sense not to let his dirty photos get out."
"No, it isn't photos," Draco snapped. "It's—it's just not meant for you or anyone else to read!" Draco braced for impact. "It's… letters."
Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief. "The Prophet got ahold of your love letters? That's all?" She stepped forward and put her arms out, inviting Draco to come in for a hug and Harry, too.
"Well," Harry squeaked, voice coming out far higher-pitched than he'd intended it to.
"This is a violation of your privacy, the both of you. We need to call the lawyers. How could someone have intercepted a direct owl?" Lucius spiraled.
"It wasn't a direct owl," Draco realized. "It was through—Merlin's arse. We met through a magazine."
"I thought you met at a bar," Narcissa recalled with eerie clarity and an arched brow.
"We did," Harry nodded, trying to be a good boyfriend and back Draco up. "But first we reconnected through a magazine. It must have been someone there, someone with access to our record of conversations. It was supposed to be anonymous-!"
"All of this to make the point," Draco cut in. "That I need to go burn your copy of The Prophet. Right now. Do not look at it."
Lucius stared hard at Draco, then at Harry, then at Draco. "You have to tell me something first."
"What?" Draco asked, frowning and confused by what was being asked of him.
"I know what 'magazine' you're referring to, Draco. I am your father, after all. Your hiding places were obvious to me when you were at Hogwarts." Lucius thought back on their old home with pride for what it was before The Dark Lord came and ruined every corner and floorboard with his rot.
Draco paled. "You went through my things when I was at Hogwarts?!"
"Just tell me something, Draco. Which one of you is it?" Lucius interrogated. His deadly serious tone made Harry have to swallow down his dread. He had to be brave for Draco, for himself.
"Which one is what?" Draco demanded.
"Which is the one…" How should he phrase this? "Getting hurt?"
Draco's jaw fell open. "What—what on, what do you, what?"
"Your magazine featured situations in which one of the parties involved…" Lucius shook his head in disgust. "Gets hurt by the other."
"It's me," Harry piped up. There was no need to drag this out. "It's me. I would never—I could never hurt your son."
Lucius directed his fiery gaze back to Harry. "You're damned right you could never hurt him. I would end you, Potter—"
"Father!" Draco exclaimed, face turned Gryffindor red. "Was that question really necessary!?"
"One hundred percent, Draco," Lucius snapped back at his son. "I would never allow any harm to come to you even recreationally. I think you should know by now—"
"I think," said Draco, voice higher and face getting redder by the minute. "This is my worst nightmare. My absolute worst nightmare come to life."
"Draco," Narcissa sighed. "Just go burn it."
"Thank you, mother."
Draco turned on a dime and marched through the dining room and towards the owlery, expecting Harry to follow.
"I should—" Harry tried, pointing in the direction Draco was going.
"No, you will stay. I'm not through asking questions of you. What is your financial situation, Potter?" Lucius demanded.
"My what?" Harry asked, watching Draco turn corner and disappear.
"Please, dear, the Potters were old money like us. I imagine Harry hasn't spent it all away," Narcissa tried to step in and defend him. "Right, dear?"
Harry wasn't sure whether or not to be offended by a statement like that.
"No," Harry replied, making the decision to stay in place and face whatever onslaught was coming from Lucius. Draco had warned him there would be tests, and today seemed like one long test of his patience if anything. Draco would be back soon, right? "I haven't spent even a small fraction of my inheritance, it's all still in Gringotts. I don't gamble—I have terrible luck."
Lucius squinted at him. "You killed The Dark Lord."
"Yes… I killed Tom Riddle," Harry responded. "But that wasn't luck. I only got there because of everyone who supported me." And died for him, because of him. Harry's heart hung low to think of it.
Narcissa noticed the change in Harry's tone. "Lucius," she requested of her husband. "It's my turn to ask a question. Harry Potter—do you love my son?"
Harry nodded without a moment's hesitation. "Yes, I do."
"Then that is all I need to know." She offered him a motherly smile. Lucius rolled his eyes.
Before Lucius could open his mouth for another question, Draco was back. "Father, that's enough. Whatever you're going to say—that's enough of that. I should have taken your hand to lead you away and kept you from the lions," Draco accused of his parents, taking Harry's hand as he spoke about it.
"We still need to owl the lawyers," Lucius grumbled.
"I will find who is responsible for this," Harry swore in front of the family. "Who exposed such a private part of our lives. I will." Harry had the means and the magic to get answers from anyone he wanted.
"Then hop to it, Saint Potter," dismissed Lucius, turning from the conversation with a huff. "This all has given me a headache. I must to my office to write the Bagleys."
"The who?" Harry asked Draco aside.
"Family lawyers. They've been with our account for generations," Draco explained. "If we can find whoever leaked this, we can at least make their lives miserable legally for a little while." Even if charges didn't stick, a lengthy legal fight with endless Malfoy money would drain the poor suckers dry.
Draco watched as Lucius walked away rubbing his temples, harrowed by the experience of seeing his father so distraught and disappointed and it was only still morning. "We have to go," Draco told his mother. "Harry," he spoke next. "We need to get out in front of this. Are you willing to go with me to another paper and give them an exclusive interview?"
"The Quibbler," Harry said seriously. "It's the only paper I trust."
"The Lovegoods'… creature catalog?" Draco questioned.
"They're the only ones who would print the story right," Harry insisted.
"Okay, fine, The Quibbler it is." As if things couldn't get any weirder. "We should get to their office sooner rather than later."
"Oh, goodbye Draco! It's always so good seeing you, and I do hope you'll bring Harry around more. I know my husband can be demanding of who he thinks would make his son happy, but it's all because he cares. We love you so much, Draco."
Narcissa enveloped Draco in another hug regardless of whether he was volunteering one.
"Thanks, mum," Draco had to say to get permission to pull away from the near-crushing embrace. "Love you, too." He blushed to be saying that in front of anyone even about his own mother.
Harry found the whole thing quite adorable. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said.
"Please, Harry, call me Narcissa," she insisted, outstretching her hand so that Harry could take it. "Lucius is the way he is because he thinks only of Draco's safety. I will speak with him after owling the lawyers."
"Thank you, Narcissa," Harry said again.
She squeezed his hand and released it so Draco could take it once more. "Be safe, you two. I shall get a subscription to this 'Quibbler' and look forward to reading it."
And with that Draco turned back to the fireplace. "Ready?" he asked Harry, still not sure if he was himself.
"Ready," Harry answered, and galvanized Draco's resolve with how sure he seemed.
They stepped into the Floo one by one, headed for the Manor and then for the offices of The Quibbler.
After a change of clothes—as Harry had said earlier, this wasn't the outfit he'd wanted to present himself to Draco's parents in, let alone the public in—the two men arrived in the cover of cloaks to the home of the Lovegood family. It was about as remote as the Manor, but who knew who was following them these days.
With one hand occupied holding Draco's, the other hand went up to knock on the door of the refurbished tower. The sky-reaching, cylindrical home where The Quibbler was printed was in a more pristine state than ever with record paper sales from Luna's legions of followers. No longer was it the ramshackle place it had once been, instead now a bastion of the Lovegood family name.
Harry wondered seriously if more people read The Quibbler than The Prophet these days. Draco was a little more doubtful.
"Coming!" they heard from behind the grand front door. With the turning of some locks inside the door opened to reveal Luna Lovegood, long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail that fell over her purple jumper. "Harry!" she recognized immediately. "It's so good to see you, and you've brought Draco. It's been too long." She didn't sound judgmental when saying Draco's name but was a little hesitant.
Draco had been cruel to everyone in school, and he could hardly blame them if they were still bitter as adults for the venom he'd injected into their young lives.
"It has," Harry replied warmly. "Have you seen today's Prophet by any chance?"
"I have heard of the front-page news, yes," Luna said, voice sympathetic and soft. "Please, come inside. I have a pot of tea on."
Harry entered with Draco trailing slightly behind him. The room they entered was full of bright colors and stained glass windows letting in even more colored light. It was a rainbow room, with bits and baubles hanging from the ceiling and gently spinning as Luna walked by them.
On the stove was a teakettle as promised, and Luna took out three mismatched cups to begin filling with hot water. "Father is out doing research in Lithuania on increased Wrackspurt activity in the countryside and how it's been affecting some wizards and witches, so he won't be joining us, but I am here. Please, sit."
"Thank you," said Harry, accepting a cup of tea from Luna when it was done steeping.
"Thanks," Draco nodded when he got his as well.
"Now, did you come to see me as emotional support or as the Editor In-Chief of The Quibbler?" she asked, sitting in a chair across from the couch Draco and Harry occupied.
"Both," said Harry a bit glumly. "I wish this was just a social visit, but we think it's best to tell our side of the story to the public now that things have gotten out of hand."
"We need to get in front of this," Draco repeated from earlier. "It's already too late to get ahead of it, but if we release something today we might just be able to curb public opinion." Draco hated having to care about public opinion, but such things mattered when one was an ex-Death Cult member dating the Savior of the World.
"It would be a lot simpler if they just revealed our relationship, that we can explain, but the nature of which this relationship came about… It's violating, having it revealed," Harry admitted with frustration. It was all to sell papers for that Rita Skeeter, too, a bug that Harry wished had been squashed a long time ago.
Luna nodded. Being the fan of journalistic integrity that she had raised to be by Xenophilius she remembered her first encounter with Skeeter stalking Harry at school. She had hated the woman even then, and Luna hated few people. "I can imagine you're feeling exposed, and betrayed. Do you know who sold the story?"
"Our only guess now is someone who works for the magazine Safeword. How they figured out it was us, now that's a different story… Our physical descriptions were included in our letters betwixt one another but about a million wizards out there look like us. Maybe the height information narrows it down to a couple hundred but still, to know it was us…" Draco shook his head and realized his hands were trembling, too. "We just had to come from telling my parents not to read the story."
"Have you yourselves read the whole story?" asked Luna.
"Parts," said Harry. "Unfortunately it's all true. Draco and I met anonymously through a BDSM sex rag and got together to pursue… that sort of relationship." Nobody was supposed to know, nobody was supposed to find out…
Luckily if Luna were shocked or scandalized her face wasn't showing it. "I can contact a friend I have at Safeword about the matter, look into how someone broke their privacy policies. At the very least they're fired, if not pursued legally."
Draco arched an eyebrow. So Loony was kinky too? Probably shouldn't have called her that, even in his head, what with how willing to help she seemed.
"The publishing business is small in the wizarding world," she said as if she'd read Draco's mind. "I keep a subscription to a number of publications to see what's out there."
"You don't need to defend yourself to us," Harry laughed bitterly.
"But I think," Draco said, thumbing his teacup. "I have to apologize to you. I'm sorry, Luna. For everything I did when we were younger." The vitriol he'd spewed into everyone's lives at that age was immeasurable, and he was sure Luna had less-than-pleasant memories of her forced stay in the Manor basement. He wondered if he should let her know he'd torn the place down.
Luna offered him a gentle smile. "I forgave you a long time ago, Draco. It is nice to hear an apology aloud though, so thank you for that.
Harry, in spite of everything that was happening, was beaming with pride to see Draco taking responsibility for his actions. Harry had forgiven Draco long before he apologized, too.
"I'm more than happy to put you on our front page as a new story," Luna went on. "The exclusive interview deserves that spot in the next publication. Would you mind if I began the interview now? We need it sooner rather than later if we're to get the story out in time."
Harry looked to Draco, who nodded.
"How do interviews with The Quibbler usually work?" asked Draco, straightening up his robes. They thought it best to dress as wizards when they made this announcement to the wizarding world. At least none of the muggles at market in Wiltshire would know. Draco enjoyed getting food there with Harry at least once a week, a place where nobody knew who they truly were.
"However you want them to work," said Luna. "What you're going through right now is traumatizing, and after so much trauma you both faced in the war, I want this to be as painless as possible."
"Thank you. Can we edit it when we're done speaking?" Harry asked.
"Of course. It's your story to tell. I can start with a few guided questions, and we'll see where they take us," Luna began, getting out her wand. "The quickquotes quill I use," she explained, summoning the quill and a long roll of parchment. "Are made to record only what you're saying, not anything else. I know Skeeter adds… description with hers, but here it will just be our words."
"That," she said. "And a picture if you'll allow it."
The couple nodded, and Luna took out her wizarding camera. Draco and Harry, a bit awkwardly, faced themselves toward the camera and gripped each other's hands when the flash went off. They looked good, but they definitely didn't look happy.
She waved her wand and the quill stood at the ready. "Hello, Harry, hello, Draco. Thank you for joining me here today with the Quibbler."
"Thank you for having us," spoke Harry first. The quill began to scribble away.
"Thank you, yes," Draco said for the record. This would be his first official interview in years, and Harry's, too.
"I appreciate you speaking with me in what has to be a tough time."
"It is," Draco answered with a bitter taste in is mouth. "A… tough time." They hadn't really slowed down to think about exactly what a tough time it was, either. "For the both of us." He looked to Harry and squeezed his hand.
Harry squeezed back. "Being outed is never easy, I guess. I have always dealt with the press stalking me but this is a new low, Luna. This is something nobody was meant to see but Draco and I. This was private."
"So you are together?" she pressed for the sake of the interview. "For how long?"
"Two months and five days," Draco answered because he had indeed been counting. This had all started in when the weather was chilly out, and now it was blooming into spring. "I've enjoyed every one of them."
Now that made Harry smile wide for the first time all day. "Yeah? Me too. I wish this wasn't how everyone found out about us."
"What is your biggest worry here, Harry?" Luna asked.
"My biggest worry? Well, I've got more than a few," he laughed dryly. "But my biggest… has to be for Draco. He's an excellent Healer, and loves his job. He's told me stories, about people not wanting to be seen by him because they 'thought' he was gay. Now people know, and they know too much, frankly, and—and I just don't want this to affect his life negatively."
Draco nodded slowly. He was still going through the personal repercussions of his life being exposed, and hadn't even begun to think about the repercussions this could have in his career. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Some people wouldn't see me not because of my past but because of my perceived sexual orientation. Isn't that mad? The first one I understand, but this..."
"Draco," Luna spoke. "What is your biggest worry here?"
"That this means it'll never stop," said Draco. "For Harry, for me. Once there's blood in the water reporters come in droves, to my workplace but more importantly to our home." Their home, always. "Harry deserves peace, and rest, and no one seems willing to give it to him when he saved us all. It's simply not right."
Now both men were holding each other with a squeeze, trying to keep from losing sight of what was most important here.
"Harry," she addressed him next, the hint of a smile on her lips. "Does Draco bring you peace?"
"Yes, undoubtedly," Harry answered, his own smile shaky but present. "I have never known such love, the kind that heals like his does. He is the last person on earth who deserves this kind out outing."
Draco's eyes burned but he forced himself to maintain his composure. "Harry…"
"I mean it. You don't deserve this in a world that barely understands gay people, let alone what we do with each other. You deserve so much better," Harry insisted.
"And so do you, Harry," Draco pushed back.
"And what you mean by 'what you do with each other'…? Harry, Draco," Luna said gently. "This one is for both of you: Do you feel you're in a safe, sane, and consensual relationship at which you can leave any time, under the influence of no love potion or spell?"
"Yes," they both said at once.
"Then that's all that matters to this reporter. As someone who knew you both in school I want to say on a personal note that I am so happy you two have found happiness in one another," Luna said, earning smiles from both of the men. "What else would you like the public to know?"
"That whoever did this," began Draco. "Best expect legal action of the swiftest form."
Harry thought about adding a threat to their lives as well but decided against doing that in their first interview together for the world. He had killed once before, and someone could see the threat as credible or at worst unhinged. "Legal action," Harry agreed with gritted teeth. "And they have to tell me why. Why would they do this? The money? The notoriety? Why did they do this to us?"
"I hope you find your answers soon," Luna wished for them. "Is there anything else you wanted anyone else to know? Now's your chance to speak it to all of my readers."
"Yeah," said Harry. "I love Draco Malfoy, and I love what he does to me, and there's nothing wrong with that."
Draco beamed. "I love you too, Harry." He said it even though he knew thousands would be reading it, and he said it proudly.
"And that's Luna Lovegood with The Quibbler, signing off." She picked up the quill and placed it down on the table. "How was that? Is there anything I missed?"
"No, it was good," Harry said, and looked to Draco to confirm.
"Thank you for not pressing too much into the gory details," Draco nodded.
"Of course. You've been through enough," Luna told them. "But can I tell you something that I think will make you feel better?"
"Sure," said Draco, since there wasn't much left to lose and chatting with Luna Lovegood was actually rather refreshing.
She downed her tea like it was alcohol in one last big gulp, putting the mug down on the table and looking to Draco and Harry with mischief sparkling in her eyes. "I've got Neville Longbottom tied up in my basement as we speak."
Draco and Harry's jaws dropped alike.
"Don't worry, he gets off on humiliation so he wouldn't mind me telling you. This is why I have a theory: It wasn't someone at Safeword who sold you out. Call it a feeling, but I know this world and I know these people. I'll owl you when I speak to them."
"Damn, Lovegood," said Draco, looking at her with a whole new heaping mass of respect.
"I was wondering where he was," Harry chuckled. "Good on him."
"Oh, I am," Luna answered wistfully, making Draco and Harry crack up again. "Ah, we have our fun. Don't worry, I'll get to him as soon as this new Quibbler is out." And with a wink Luna sent the recorded transcript off to the press.
Back at the Manor once more, Draco and Harry finally went through all of the letters they'd been sent. They had been sent condolences and expressions of anger that this had happened to them from all of Draco's friends, an invitation to dinner from Molly and Arthur—who thank goodness didn't mention the finer details of their outing—and then there was Ron and Hermione's letter: READ SECOND.
"I suppose they knew the first one would spur us to action," Harry remarked, turning the second letter over in his hands and carefully ripping open the envelope.
"What does it say?" asked Draco, looking over Harry's shoulder.
Dear Harry and Draco,
We know this must be mortifying for you. After you've done whatever you need to do to adjust to the shock of the first letter, we hope you can sit down together and read this one.
You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. In the coming days people may try and mock you, belittle you for the way you conduct yourselves in private, but know we will never be among them. We're your friends no matter what, Harry, and now that you've chosen to love Draco he falls under our protection, too.
Kinks and fetishes are completely natural things that have existed since the dawn of human sexuality. You're not harming anyone with what you do in private as consenting adults.
If anything this revelation of how you truly met fills in some blanks for us. We're only sorry you didn't trust us with the real story, and understand why you were hesitant to. We had no idea how you bonded so quickly and were worried things were being rushed, but now we see why. It takes complete and total trust to properly do a scene with a partner, and if you, Harry, trust Draco in that way, then I know he's done something to prove he deserves it.
Harry, you've always seen the good in people where even we couldn't. It's part of what makes you such an inspiring leader, and such a compassionate friend. Seeing you so down like you were before Draco came back into your life was painful, because we knew you were in pain.
So if it takes a little physical pain to cure a little emotional pain, we say go for it. We haven't seen you this happy before, this fulfilled.
We're here for you always, and hope to hear back from you soon. Perhaps we could all get together at Malfoy Manor if you felt safest there. We care about you, and want to know how you're doing with this betrayal of trust in your life. Whoever sold this story will regret it when we come around to collect.
Nothing but love,
Hermione and Ron
"Oh," said Draco, his heart swelling to feel almost suspiciously full. "That was very kind of them to say. I suppose we do also owe them for being the first to break the news to us." He looked over to Harry and saw a tear roll down his tan cheek. "Harry?"
"I'm just so glad," said Harry, another tear falling. "That they understand. I didn't say it for the interview but I was so afraid—so afraid that our private life being revealed would mean they'd abandon me. The whole Weasley clan, really. They've got Charlie who's gay so I know they'd always accept me for that, but—I don't know. Do you ever feel dirty in your lowest of moments? Wrong for wanting what we want?"
Seeing Harry cry and speak so openly about this had tears pricking the corners of Draco's eyes. "In my lowest moments," Draco nodded to admit. "I know what conservatives and purists say about people like us. There's a class of respectable, sexless gay some can stand but the ones like us, the freaks, we're abhorrent to them." Draco wiped away one of Harry's tears. "But they're wrong. They don't know love like I know it when I'm with you, and it's made me a better and stronger man."
Harry cracked a little smile. "You know, I happen to like being a freak with you," he reminded him. "I don't care how many people call us depraved or sick for it." He drew Draco into a hug that was immediately accepted tightly. "You're my partner, my equal, and you're also my Daddy."
"And damn proud of it," replied Draco, holding close the man for whom he would do anything. They were going to get through this, and they were getting through it together.