AN: This one is anti-dedicated to JKR, that transphobic bigot. Let's all be better than her.
Chapter 17: Trains and Family Pains
Harry wasn't sure whether they had the right address or not. The outside of this building looked so… mundane. Like he could pass it by a hundred times and never suspect a thing about its interior.
"Ah, some fond memories here," Pansy sighed and pressed her manicured hand to the brick exterior. "She picked a good one, this mysterious other Domme you won't talk to me about."
"She said we should meet her inside," Draco recalled. "Then you'll know who she is."
"Then let's not waste any more time, we have a trap to lay. Oh, I love being diabolical," Pansy expressed fondly. She knocked on the front door, another unsuspecting piece made of metal with a peep-hole looking out.
"What's the password?" came a soft, sultry voice from within.
"My personal favorite is always 'titillation'," Pansy replied. "Did we actually have a password, boys?" she turned back to the couple waiting behind her.
"No, no, she's just messing with us. Open up, we shouldn't be standing in the street so long," Draco said, looking over his shoulder.
So Ginny opened the door and stepped back into cover of darkness to hide her face while the three entered her domain. Once everyone was inside and the door was sealed she flipped the light switch on.
Pansy, who had been squinting trying to figure out who the mystery woman was, now had nothing standing in her way. "Weaselette!" she exclaimed in surprise. "You're…? Oh, Merlin's sweet tits, you're Madam Anglewise?"
"The one and only. Ugh, I forgot that you all used to call me that in school," she huffed of the first nickname. "You lot were infuriating, you know that?"
"Ooo, what are you gonna do about it, Madam? Spank me?" Pansy trilled before breaking her serious stare and bursting into laughter. "Ah, this is rich! Richer than you, Draco. I had no idea the Weas—well, that the Madam had it in her. I've seen this one at parties, breaking men and women left and right."
"And I've seen you in the wizarding London scene. You have the two submissives with the pink collars who fan you, right?" Ginny raised a brow.
"Yes, that's me," Pansy boasted proudly. "The fans are real flamingo feathers."
Harry had never seen Pansy attended by two collared submissives being hand-fed grapes but he certainly had the image in his mind now. "Well, Ginny, meet Pansy, and Pansy, meet Ginny," he reintroduced them. "We're all here for the same reason, to catch whoever sold Draco and me out to the papers."
"And to throw an unforgettable party, hence why I am here," Pansy nodded.
"Incredible fake party," Draco felt the need to remind her again.
"Fake, shmake," Pansy waved off as if that made any sense. "It has to be convincing, doesn't it? Come on, let's go downstairs. I know exactly how I want the rooms set up now that I know it's here."
"So you really have been here before?" Harry asked, looking around the entrance hall. From what he could tell there was only a coat check and a flight of stairs leading down, and that was it. "What's this place called?"
"This is The Rose Dungeon," Draco stated. "And you haven't seen anything yet, Harry. Let's go downstairs."
The staircase led the four down into another vestibule, this one significantly more fancy and plush. The walls were lined with velvet red cushions on black wood wrapped all around the room. There was a single rose in a glass vase on a wall sconce that Harry could tell was charmed to be so bright. He wondered if he could incorporate a little magic in the gardens at home once they'd grown hardy enough to withstand the charms.
"Welcome," Ginny said, turning the handle of the only door they had leading forward. "To The Rose."
She waved her wand and stepped forward, lighting what had to be a thousand charmed candles and lanterns at once. The light revealed a massive, multi-room maze, the entrance room covered in the same plush red cushion walls. This first room was furnished like a lounge. Harry imagined what the place would look like full, people of all genders and ages relaxing on the crimson furniture and chatting in fetishwear.
In the middle of the booths surrounding the room was a chair elevated on a platform almost like a stage, straps unbound and waiting to be filled.
"There are platforms like this in each room for performances," Ginny went on, her heels clacking as she walked through the room. As Harry's eyes adjusted to the dim light he saw a rack of instruments next to the chair, some he had no idea what they were even for. "And plenty of rooms so multiple scenes can be going on at once."
As Draco and Pansy inspected the other rooms like they had walked the maze a thousand times he realized he was being given a tour by Ginny because he was the only one who hadn't been here or any place like it before. It was honestly a little embarrassing but at least she was explaining things he didn't understand.
Harry followed her to another room, this one with black leather covering the walls and floor, a few leather couches to the side sat atop cages and a massive stage up against the wall where Harry recognized as a Leather 'X' like the one he'd been tied to in the ballroom of the Manor. A warm feeling stirred in his gut at the memory, like Draco was there pushing up his skirt again. He had to admit he was a little interested in the cages lining the walls, too.
"So people really get locked up here?" Harry asked Ginny. He'd never exactly had problems fitting into small places. Would it feel too much like the cupboard under the stairs? Maybe. But he trusted Draco would let him out if he dropped their safeword.
"You bet. See that coffee table-slash-cage? I've kept people in there for hours. With their consent, of course," she said and couldn't help her own bragging. Harry was a newbie to this whole scene and for once she got to introduce him to new things, no longer just the younger sister of his best mate. She recalled when they were dating thinking Harry was too shy to do much with her before finding out he was gay, but now she realized he was both: gay and a little shy.
And how could he not be? Harry had been abused by the Dursleys, then he'd been thrown into a magical world where everything was out to kill him, and there really hadn't been a moment for the man to take a breath and explore himself.
Harry was coming into his own now, though. Ginny could see it happening before her eyes. Harry dressed himself more neatly, held his head higher, and gave all the signs of a submissive being treated oh-so right and reaping the benefits. Harry was happy now, his existence given structure and meaning. Ginny wondered if she should privately thank Draco some other time. The Slytherin may have very well saved Harry's life by replying to his request in Safeword.
They passed by rooms with spanking benches lined up in rows, metal clasps at the bottom of them to bind the submissive's hands. Harry didn't say anything but he was very interested in what that would look like, multiple people bent over taking punishment.
"Ooo, I like to call this room the Science Lab," Ginny narrated on her tour of the next chamber. Harry stepped in to find out why.
In comparison to the last room everything was a little bit blinding at first. Metallic walls, tile floors with a drain the middle—why would anyone need a drain? Was he in over his head here? The equipment mounted on the wall of this room was mostly glassware, some with metallic coils in the toys that might be used to… conduct electricity? Science Lab indeed.
Harry must have been staring with a bit of fear in his eyes because he could hear Ginny giggling next to him.
"Guessing you're not into electro-play?" she grinned.
"Uh, that'd be a no," Harry laughed his nerves away.
He heard footsteps approaching behind him and knew them to be Draco's. "Scarring Harry for life?" he asked Ginny casually, stringing an arm around Harry's shoulders that he unconsciously leaned into.
"I just don't get it," Harry had to admit to the both of them. "I understand, um, you know—" Harry struggled to say the words in front of his current love and his ex-girlfriend. "Impact play, and stuff. I get pain, but why shocks? Is it painful?"
"Depends on the level of wattage," Draco explained to him. "Sometimes it's just a pleasant tingling if the power is low enough."
"You've tried this?" Harry asked. Draco's history was still not fully explored between them.
"Once at a Pride event they had some electricity wands to try out. It wasn't part of a scene, just showing off a product on my arm. I didn't make the purchase, but it wasn't horrible." Draco gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze. "Do you like the place so far?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "I almost wish I was attending a real party here. It's nice and private, tucked away from the world and with masquerade masks maybe nobody would recognize us…"
Draco got that smile on his face again. "That would be nice, wouldn't it? We could go room to room watching the scenes until we found our favorite. Or…" Draco turned to whisper in Harry's ear. "Maybe we could go up and show them how it's done."
Harry's whole body shivered and his face went red, getting snickers out of both Draco and Ginny. "Draco," he protested through his blush.
"Just a thought," Draco said, putting his hands up.
"Draco, you've got to come see this!" Pansy shouted from one of the other rooms. "They installed a new swing in here!"
"Shall we go check it out?" Draco asked Harry who nodded in return. Ginny and they walked through the rooms back to where Pansy was calling for them.
They came upon Pansy Parkinson smiling like it was Christmas morning in front of a strappy black contraption hanging from the ceiling. "It's just like the one I have at home. Perfect! Yes, this party is going to be unforgettable!" She grabbed onto the sex swing and caressed it as one might a partner.
Draco rolled his eyes fondly at his ridiculous friend. This was an adult playground in every sense of the word, and she had an almost childlike glee when it came to torturing her submissives. Draco couldn't help but wonder how Harry would react to seeing her in action like Draco had at parties and in general life.
"I'll have Susan and Justin call the right people for catering. I want French desserts and decadence everywhere," Pansy said as she snapped back upright and back to business. "Oh," she said as she realized something. "You should meet my subs, Harry! I mean, you met them in school, Hufflepuffs make for incredible submissives. How cute would that be?"
"Sure?" said Harry.
"Oh, you'll love them. I found them at a party, this precious little married couple looking for a Domme. Obviously they had to go through several trials to prove their worth to me but we've been in an arrangement for nearly two years now. It's fun to spend money on someone else, isn't it, Draco?"
"Harry barely uses the black card I gave him," Draco poked lightly at Harry.
"What? If I had access to the Malfoy family funds I'd be running a tab. You really have to hurt his wallet more, Harry. I swear he likes it," she teased of her friend.
Harry laughed, face pink but ultimately not too mortified yet even as Pansy's piercing eyes seemed to look right through him. "He keeps me well-dressed, I know he likes that," Harry admitted. "And I don't even want to know the price of all the glamour products in the bathroom combined… What even would I buy?"
"Oh, Harry. Sweet, simple Harry," Pansy sighed fondly and Harry wasn't sure if he liked the sound of it. "Anything you bloody well want. If you could have one thing in the entire world regardless of cost right now: what would it be?"
"My privacy back," Harry murmured.
Pansy grabbed his shoulders.
"Think, Potter! Nothing depressing or unattainable. What toy did you always, always want as a kid but never get?" Pansy pressed.
"I didn't get any toys as a kid, just some iron soldiers passed down from Dudley," Harry admitted.
Pansy blinked. "What? Hey, I just said nothing depressing!"
Draco decided it was time to intervene. "Pansy—"
"No, just one question, just one more: if you could have any toy in the world, any one right now, what would it be?"
"I don't know if it's practical to be buying toys as an adult—" Harry tried.
"Throw practical out the window! Have you seen your man's Gringotts statements?!"
"I don't know!" Harry insisted.
"Yes you do. Dig deeper," she coached him and Harry almost felt his skin tingle. What kind of platonic mind-domination could go on between a bisexual woman and a gay man? "What did you always hope Santa would bring for Christmas?"
Christmas. Harry thought back, far back, far before he knew what he was to become—a wizard, a savior, a depressed mess, a sexual masochist. Before all that he was just a kid who, one fateful year, believed in Santa before Aunt Petunia disabused him of the thought that orphans got toys from Santa. What did that little boy want?
"Well," Harry said quietly. "I always thought it'd be nice to have a train set. Like the kind that goes around the bottom of the Christmas tree, with little stops and people and… I dunno." Harry was redder than he was talking about sex. All he'd had were those tiny soldier toys, and he'd always wanted to give them a nice, open place to live along the rails. "A train, I guess."
Pansy released Harry and turned to Draco. "You're welcome."
"Watch yourself," Draco warned. "Backing him into psychological corners is my territory."
"But now you've learned something new about him!" Pansy waved away Draco's concern. "And Harry, for being such a good sport, here's something new about Draco: have you ever tried on a maid's costume for him? I swear, he's—"
"Pansy!" Now it was Draco's turn to be red. Between the three of them Ginny was looking absolutely delighted at this madness unfolding around her. "Excuse her, she's terminally unable to mind her own business," Draco said to Harry.
Harry, though, was intrigued. He'd never thought about how a friendship with Draco's friends would unlock secrets about him. "Noted," Harry said airily, and enjoyed the look of pleasant surprise on Draco's face. There was another purchase he was going to have to make using Draco's money.
"Okay, so we've checked the place out, I'm on invitations, Pansy's on catering and décor, and all you two need to do is show up ready to catch a rat," Ginny refocused the group. "This Saturday night. Draco, plant the invitation on your desk tomorrow on Monday and leave it out. We want whoever has been looking in on your office to see it."
"Right," Draco nodded, his thoughts having momentarily been elsewhere in the land of possibility—the possibility of Harry bent over washing the floor in a maid's outfit.
"So, our work here is done. I'll keep you all updated on guests and work the door the night of to see who our odd man out is," Ginny wrapped it up neatly. "Any questions?"
Everyone shook their heads. They were ready. Teasing and odd ways of getting to know one another better aside they were a team with one focus: bringing one reputation-ruining scum to justice.
Ginny had delivered on the invitation. It looked like a work of art, black and white shadows charmed to animate various kinky tableaus in the background of the red text. The Rose Dungeon presents: Midnight In Paris, a one-time only French bacchanal this Saturday evening.
On the opposite side of the invitation was a single phrase: Crème Brûlée. The password and the safeword.
Draco left the invitation out on his desk at the hospital and went about his Monday.
On the other side of town in muggle London, Harry went about his Monday.
He had two tasks today, but they were both part of the same initiative: spending Daddy's money.
"Nothing is too extravagant," Draco had said to him, almost like he had been coaching him that morning. "Spend like there's no limit."
So Harry approached his first task with some trepidation but bravery in his heart. He'd put on a brave outfit for sure, a red suit with a navy blue shirt beneath, fabric detailed with embroidered golden chains. Draco had insisted he looked dashing but now Harry felt a little silly standing in front of Station Crossing, muggle London's closest train hobby shop to his old flat.
The place wasn't exactly hopping but there were a few customers coming in and out as Harry approached it from the street. He was glad to see at least some people his age or older than him. He'd been worried it would all be children and parents and he'd seem out of place or strange. At least nobody would recognize him as 'The' Harry Potter here, though they might see him as a bizarre adult.
A bell rang as he entered, catching the attention of a man behind a white counter. "Welcome to Station Crossing!" he said enthusiastically. He was a balding man with kindly brown eyes and South London accent.
"Thank you," Harry nodded.
"Looking for anything specific today? If I don't have the parts in the shop I can order them fast."
"I'm just—I'm looking for a starter kit," Harry admitted. "Something classic-looking, if you can."
"I know just the one. Right this way, sir," the clerk led, stepping out from behind the counter. "Looking for yourself or for a present?"
"Myself," Harry admitted and forced himself to keep his head held high about it as they walked through rows of miniature trees. There was a train chugging along around the top of the walls of the shop, lights glowing and flashing.
"Fantastic. You know, I find making trains and their environments to be very relaxing. Helps me focus the ole noggin. They're great for people of any age, and the hobby has a great community." The man stopped at a shelf of engines and Harry's eyes immediately went to the most familiar-looking one. A stylish, black and red conductor's booth that looked exactly like the Hogwarts Express.
Harry missed that train. He'd almost died on it more than a few times but it would always hold the engine sounds and smoke stack close to his heart. The first time it took him away from the Dursleys had been so good it made up for all the bad memories he had on it. That first taste of freedom was too precious to forget or let be tainted by other incidents.
"This'll give you about three meters of track to start out with, see how it forms the loops nicely on the back?" the clerk demonstrated, pointing to the pictures illustrating the many features of this train. "You can buy more cargo attachments in aisle three, and that row we passed to get here will give you enough foliage to really make the scene come to life. Aisle four has buildings and stations, and five has miniature figures. You can paint them yourself, if you like."
Harry's smile grew as the man spoke. This was really happening—he was really doing this. Buying something frivolous and fun and not caring about a price tag.
"I'll need a cart," Harry said with confidence upon hearing all the variety of set dressings he could purchase. The clerk looked delighted.
The next hour or so was spent in a trance. Harry walking down the aisles over and over again, letting himself sink into the childhood he'd been robbed of. He allowed himself to be excited, to be happy each time he put a tiny farmer or railway sign collection into his cart.
No guilt, no shame, only Harry Potter playing with trains.
When his cart was full up he took it up to the counter in the front, producing the Malfoy black card. It was truly ingenious of muggles to be able to use a piece of plastic to connect with a bank. It was a sign of the times that even Draco had a credit card, for all his aversion to muggle things in school.
"Would you like a receipt?" asked the man behind the counter. "Our returns policy is good for two weeks so long as the pieces haven't been damaged."
Harry, who forced himself not to look at the total after catching that it went above four digits, shook his head. "No receipt." He didn't need a paper reminder of his thousands of pounds of madness he'd just spent.
With arms full of bags filled to the brim with train accessories, Harry exited the store feeling like he'd just gotten away with something almost like stealing. Every piece was paid for, and on his Daddy's tab. 'Hurt his wallet', Pansy had said, and Harry had done just that.
Still, he wasn't done for the day. Something else Pansy said had caught Harry's attention and he was headed further downtown for a store that would sell the item in question in his size. Harry was going to an 'adult novelty and video' shop, and he was going with bags full of toy train parts under his arms.
His phone guided him to the nearest one, a hole-in-the-wall named The Pleasure Chest. Ignoring what store exactly the bags Harry carried were from he looked like an important, big spender the second he walked into the mirror-walled establishment.
The attendant behind the counter immediately zeroed in on him. "Hello there, and welcome to the Pleasure Chest. Can I assist you in any way? We have a buy-two-get-one sale on personal lubricants today."
Harry was mildly overwhelmed by all of the products for a moment. There was a whole table dedicated to vibrators on plastic cords that could be sampled before making the purchase. There were restraints of all kinds and most importantly, lingerie in a variety of shapes and sizes.
"Um," he began. He just had to draw from within, remember his power, remember the man at home who loved and kept him. "I'm looking for a maid's costume in my size. And I'd like to look at your toys."
With a courteous smile the attendant began to lead Harry deeper into the store. "Right this way. We have a dressing room in the back where you can try on anything you like." They had an undercut and a gauge earring, and Harry immediately felt safe knowing they were a muggle who had no clue of his past and wasn't judging him on his present.
"Thank you," Harry nodded, producing the black card to them. "Just ring me up on this." Harry looked around him, nodding at all the different options of dress and play and knowing any of them could be his with the swipe of Daddy's card. "I think I'm going to be awhile."
"Just remember," Draco said as he adjusted Harry's lapels. "You wanted this."
"And you don't?" Harry questioned, raising a brow.
"No, I do," Draco assured him quickly. "But just remember, when my father says something unconscionable, that you decided you wanted to come."
Harry's face softened. "It's going to be fine, Draco. No matter what your father says, it won't be powerful enough to stop me from loving you." He put a hand to Draco's cheek and Draco nuzzled into it for comfort. "I mean that. No bigoted nonsense or personal attack could stop me from coming back home with you to this Manor tonight."
A small sigh left Draco's lips. He was dressed his best, a powder blue suit with a floral shirt underneath, and Harry in a light green with black accessories. He might as well dress the part in the Slytherins' home, after all. "Thank you for doing this," Draco murmured. "Is what I'm trying to say."
"You don't need to thank me," said Harry, all smiles. "But I do expect a rough round from you when we get back here."
"Don't threaten me with a good time," Draco grinned and kissed Harry's hand. He let his shoulders slump and the worry in his forehead unclench. "Ah, how do you always know how to get me to relax? You work wonders, Harry Potter."
"I could say the same of you, Draco Malfoy. Now come on, let's get going."
Into the Floo they went, and there they were once again on marble floors with the sunset shining through the arched white windows.
This time Lucius and Narcissa were in the foyer waiting for them expectantly. This left the pair of men no more opportunities to prepare or collect themselves. It was showtime.
"Mother, Father," Draco greeted a bit stiffly. His parents were in their glamours and their best outfits. Draco knew them well. Father had all of his rings on, like they could guard him from truth itself.
Narcissa was smiling, at least. "It's so good to see you, Draco. And you as well, Harry," she said, moving forward and embracing them both with an arm each. Draco hugged her back, making tense eye contact with Lucius over her shoulder as he did. "Please, welcome, make yourself at home."
Harry had a feeling it would be immensely frowned upon by the patriarch to do such a thing, but he nodded politely after the hug anyway. "Good to see you, too," he said.
"You look well, Draco," Lucius said as if Harry weren't there.
"I am," Draco answered edgily. "We are."
So finally Lucius deigned to look at Harry Potter. It was as if arithmancy maths were flying around Lucius' head trying to calculate just why Draco had to have chosen him, of all people in the world. He inspected Harry's outfit—clearly set up by Draco—and recalled what Harry had said in their first stumbling into each other in this hall: that he had a different outfit for meeting the parents. So, this was that outfit. At least the boy cared how he looked, unlike that mess of a mop he'd had back in school.
"Potter," Lucius finally said airily, breaking a tense familial silence. "You may follow us this way to the dining room."
Harry held his eye-roll in and instead presented a smile. "Thank you," he began. "Your home is lovely." Draco had said something like that to Molly and she'd liked it, right?
"Thank you," Narcissa responded, looking over her shoulder to cast a reassuring smile to Harry. "This estate has been in the family since the 1600's. The Manor is—was—older but I'm sure you know that."
"Do you know the history of the Manor, Potter?" Lucius questioned.
"Draco has told me of it, yes," Harry answered, not sure if he'd be tested on it later.
They came upon a long dining table draped in a fine silk tablecloth absolutely decked out with the most decadent of foods. It reminded him of a Hogwarts feast, cooked poultry prime for the cutting and serving paired with what looked to be a number of gravies and vegetable side dishes. There was one assembly of roasted potato cubes that interested Harry particularly.
"You didn't have to pull out all of the stops," Draco observed of the small banquet his parents had put together. "But you did. Interesting."
Something truly eerie happened next. Like a mirror image, Draco stepped to the table as Lucius did the opposite side, each Malfoy man pulling out a seat for their significant other.
Harry watched this unfold and blinked. Narcissa took her seat with a gracious look to her husband, one that held a great deal of love in it. That gave Harry a few ideas for conversation, if the right time to say them ever came up.
More pressingly though was Harry's invitation to sit in the chair Draco had pulled out for him. He looked to his lover with the corners of his lips turned up because how could he not? This dashing gentleman and sometimes arsehole was everything to him.
So Lucius took his seat at the head of the table, Draco across from his mother and Harry placed awkwardly to the side of Draco. Harry dealt with it in stride.
"It smells great," Harry said of the food.
"My wife and I made every last dish," Lucius boasted, but not having touched his utensils yet. In fact, no one had, so Harry kept his hands in his lap.
"Cooking is a great skill," Harry tried. Why couldn't he think of a word besides 'great'?
Lucius looked thoroughly unimpressed with this lack of vocabulary. "Cooking is a skill much like potioneering, though I suppose we did not find that out until after you dismissed our house elf." The last few words of Lucius' were cutting.
"He wasn't 'your' house elf. Dobby was a free elf," Harry responded like a jerk of the knee to a Healer's tests. Lucius' eyes narrowed. Draco panicked.
"Drinks, drinks, who wants drinks?" He did not wait for an answer. Draco was the first to reach forth onto the table and pop open a bottle of aromatic red wine with his wand. Next with a wave of the unicorn-hair wand he poured out glasses of wine for everyone. He started with his father, then his mother, then Harry and then himself. "Let's drink."
Narcissa was drinking her glass before Draco even got to pouring his own. She got the advantage of speaking first because of this, though. "That was decades past, Lucius. And haven't we found cooking to be something we can do together?" Narcissa gently nudged him towards a calmer response than the one she could see he was formulating in the crease of his brow.
Lucius continued his boring icy holes into Harry's face like Narcissa had said nothing.
"Then let's not let the cooking go to waste, hm?" Draco suggested, motioning towards his father's currently empty plate.
Harry found it mildly infuriating to have to wait for Lucius to decide it was time to eat, but he supposed the pureblood habits ran deep. If Charlie had joked about Draco being in the Lion's Den it was surely Harry in the Snake's Pit now.
Lucius eventually pulled his gaze from Harry. He looked, exasperated, to Draco one more time as if to say: 'Really?' and Draco nodded his reply firmly.
Lucius Malfoy was developing a terrible headache, and its name was Harry Potter. He gave one last gloomy glare in Harry's direction before beginning to cut off a piece of the main dish for himself. It was then that Draco and Narcissa got to picking at the rest of the food.
Harry loaded his plate up, shameless about his appetite these days. He was no longer the man who forgot and missed meals; he was eating damn well with Draco. Their cookbook was ever-expanding with more and more pages as they looked up recipes or ate takeout meals and tried to replicate them. "Draco and I cook together a lot," Harry tried again.
"We do," Draco confirmed, glad to steer away from magical creature rights abuses being their central topic of conversation. He'd heard that Dobby had died in Harry's arms. Draco still wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he knew Harry blamed himself like he did for every death, and that wasn't fair. "And on nights I work later Harry always makes sure I have a hot meal."
"That's wonderful," Narcissa said after swallowing a bite of potato. Her table manners were exceedingly proper, and her perfect posture reminded Harry of how Draco was always reminding him not to slump. "Isn't that wonderful, Lucius?" Her tone was more order than suggestion at this point.
"I always heard your potioneering skills were poor from Severus," Lucius told Harry flatly. "So I am surprised you can cook up to my son's standards."
Harry's eye twitched behind his glasses. This needling was so clearly meant to rile him up. He maintained a placid smile in Lucius' direction, refusing to give the man anything. "I improved over time," he said simply, leaving out that for the first five years he'd had a shit teacher.
"Yes, well, you've got nothing but time, I suppose," Lucius went on, slicing his asparagus up and spearing a stalk of it onto his fork. "Being unemployed."
"Father," Draco cut in before either one of them started saying things they regretted. "Would you ever call mother 'unemployed' when you worked in the Ministry and she maintained the Manor and gardens? No. Harry is a homemaker. He makes the Manor a home."
The mention of the Manor was a whole other can of worms. "About that," Lucius began. "Draco, I have… accepted that you will never marry a woman."
"I've been out for about a decade so yeah, I'd sure hope so," Draco retorted.
Lucius continued as if Draco had not spoken. "So all I asked of you after accepting this was to find someone you could rebuild the Manor with."
"And I have," Draco insisted. Harry's heart bloomed in his chest at how convinced he sounded.
"Are you sure?" Lucius pressed. "This is the same boy you wrote home about just about every week in school saying you hated. I have the letters upstairs as proof."
Draco nearly choked on his food. "You saved my Hogwarts letters?"
"We saved everything you ever gave us, Draco. Did you think we would just throw them out? I recall on several occasions your complaints about Harry Potter 'ruining your life'." Lucius couldn't understand why Draco was getting so red in the face about that.
"Lucius," Narcissa cut in, her frustration more evident in her eyes. "Do you think he would subject the poor boy to this if he wasn't sure? What did I tell you just a month ago? Our boy is in love, Lucius. We should be celebrating. I know you're skeptical—"
"'Skeptical' is a kind way to put it," Lucius grumbled.
"Then why not practice a little kindness yourself? Must I remind you of the fact that Harry's kindness once spared us Azkaban? Must I retell the story of that horrible night, the one where all we cared about was finding our boy? How Harry helped me, told me Draco was still alive at the castle?" Narcissa's gaze was centered on her stubborn, old-fashioned husband, digging for the light she knew was in him.
"It was Harry's idea we come here together in the first place," Draco added in his partner's defense. "Right, Harry?"
Harry nodded. "I don't want to be something that comes between you as a family. Believe me, I know we have our disagreements on, well, everything, but what we can agree on is wanting the best for Draco."
"And you think that's you?" Lucius countered quickly. "Do you think you're 'the best' out there for my son?"
"I do," responded Draco before Harry could start a quiet spiral into self-doubt. "Isn't that what matters? I've chosen him, father."
Lucius still couldn't fathom why, but he knew his stubborn son and how he got when he focused on something he wanted. What Lucius couldn't know was if this was a passing rebellion or something serious. He had been hoping on rebellion but the longer this irritating conversation went on the less likely it became that this was just a fad for Draco.
"And what of you, then, Potter? Have you 'chosen' my son?" Lucius questioned.
Harry blinked. "Yes, yes of course I have."
"Then where," Lucius started, voice rising in urgency. "Is the ring?"
Draco made an exasperated noise. "Father!"
"The… ring?" Harry asked, confused.
"I've told you, Lucius," Narcissa cut in, her voice firm. "Young people these days take things slower."
Harry had conversational whiplash. One moment Lucius didn't consider him good enough, and the next he wanted him proposing? What load of pureblood nonsense had Harry stepped in? Draco had told him about Lucius' hang-ups about Harry helping with the Manor but was the solution to that really marriage?
"I don't think moving in after two days together is 'taking things slow'," Lucius brought up the uncomfortable fact of their getting together. "How long is it you've been together again?"
"Four months now," Harry answered proudly.
"What you have to understand," Narcissa said slowly, translating for her husband. "Is that courtships between traditional pureblood couples were often short and done much earlier in life than what you two boys have found."
"Well, we're not exactly a traditional or pureblood couple now, are we?" Draco replied. He looked to his father. "So stop expecting us to act like one. Your pressuring isn't wanted, or needed. Harry and I will do things on our own time."
Draco's hand found Harry's under the table and they intertwined their fingers in a gesture of unity.
Lucius let out a full-bodied sigh. "You know I only want—"
"What's best, I know," Draco finished for him. "And like I said, Harry is the best, so there."
"I don't want to see you hurt," Lucius pressed, a bit weaker this time, a bit more tired. "I don't want to see the Manor fall into disrepair, or worse, into someone else's hands. If you were married you would be able to draft a prenuptial agreement, and I would be at greater ease."
"Well, all for the ease of your life, hm?" Draco accused.
"You know that's not what I mean."
"I'm not," Harry piped up. "Some kind of gold-digger, you know. I have my own funds. I could buy a house the size of the Manor if I wanted and have plenty to spare. I'm not after Draco's money or his home. Just… him."
Narcissa smiled over the rim of her wine glass at her husband as if to say 'I told you so'.
It was three against one and Lucius was really starting to feel the pressure. "At the end of the day I cannot stop you from pursuing this relationship," Lucius had to admit.
"And neither was that your intention," Narcissa confirmed aloud with him to make sure it was true.
"Yes, yes, well…" Lucius grumbled. "I can only give you advice and counsel from my years on this earth. And my counsel is that if you're serious, you ought to prove it with a serious commitment. A binding one, one that assures things are to be fair if a split was to occur." Always thinking ahead to the worst possible scenario, Lucius had suffered nightmares of his boy coming to him crying, saying the Manor and his glass heart had been stolen by a treacherous, unbound lover.
Lucius knew how sensitive Draco was, even when he'd tried so hard to hide that side of himself, often at Lucius' behest. The elder Malfoy had hoped to train Draco to protect his fragile heart, but here he was giving it away so freely to Harry Potter of all people.
"I'm not leaving him," Harry insisted. Not after everything they'd been through as children and as adults reconnecting. Reforging and reforming their bond, playing roles but ultimately being equals.
"And I'm not leaving him," Draco added. "Our word is going to have to be good enough for you, father. Unless you'd prefer an Unbreakable Vow."
"Actually—"
"Merlin's arse, I was joking," Draco killed that idea before it could grow legs. "Can't you just be happy for me? After everything I finally find someone I want to share the Manor with like you always wanted, too. Just because we aren't wearing rings doesn't mean we're not committed." Draco squeezed Harry's hand. "I wish I could find a way to show you—show you the house and what we've done with it. The gardens are growing in a greenhouse Harry built, and soon the plants will be mature enough to survive outside it."
"We could always do a video tour," Harry suggested.
"A what?" Lucius questioned.
Draco considered it for a moment. His parents couldn't leave France, but maybe they could still see the new Manor in a way the Ministry wouldn't throw them all away for. "A video tour, that's a good idea. Yes, I know, it's a muggle thing, hold your bile in, but look past your prejudice for a second. We could show you all the rooms we've built out together, and how the rose bushes are faring."
"Oh, rose bushes?" Narcissa marveled. "The garden is the perfect climate for roses. How would we view this video?"
"We'd have to buy you a television," Draco considered. Lucius paled. "Oh, don't look so distraught. You want to see how the Manor is coming along, no?"
Lucius was wracking his brain for a magical way to do so but couldn't exactly procure rare charmed mirrors or other such devices stuck in the France Estate.
"And watching this muggle 'video' of your progress will show me…?" Lucius questioned, droll as ever.
"How far we've come, how much Harry has helped me, how he's turned the very walls and floors from a house into a home," Draco explained.
There was a silence at the table.
"…Very well," Lucius sighed. "You may capture this 'video' and we will view it."
Draco and Harry looked to each other with a smile. It was hardly a victory, but it was progress, and that was what they'd been hoping for in the first place. They knew they weren't going to change Lucius' mind overnight, but maybe if they kept at it, maybe if they stuck together and stood strong, they could convince him over time that this was a good thing they had going.
"You know," said Harry. "I had a question earlier I meant to ask."
"Oh? And what was that?" Narcissa asked.
"Well, you've spent some time describing what a 'typical' pureblood relationship is like, but I want to know about your own. I know you must have met at Hogwarts, but how did you meet? How did you first get together?" Harry asked of his beloved's parents.
This caught Lucius off-guard. He interacted with few people other than his wife and son, who both knew the story of their courtship well. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to inform Potter of what they had done, maybe inspire him to do the same.
"We didn't actually meet at Hogwarts," Lucius corrected. "We met as children at a Gala in the Nott household. I was taken with her beauty, even then."
"Oh, you old flatterer," Narcissa accused fondly. "We barely even spoke. But I heard stories about you from Andromeda and Bellatrix—the handsome and powerful wizard that was the sole Malfoy heir. You see," she said to Harry. "We were a year apart, so he was in Bellatrix and Severus' class. When I came in as a first year he'd already established himself as quite the force to be reckoned with at Hogwarts. He racked up House Points for Slytherin like no one else."
Because every teacher had wanted to get in with the richest wizarding family in England back then, of course. The Black and Nott heirs were treated similarly. Hell, at first Draco had been treated similarly.
"And when my seventh and her sixth year came we attended a Hogwarts dance for the first time together. Shortly after her graduation and my gaining a position at the Ministry we received our parents' blessing and began a true courtship," Lucius went on, his old grey eyes with a hint of a sparkle in them as he spoke of the past.
"He leaves out many details," Narcissa said lowly but allowed it. "I had a crush on him all my life, but he saw some other girls at Hogwarts before I finally got his attention."
Lucius' head whipped around to look at his wife. "They were nothing, Narcissa," he swore vehemently, embarrassed she'd said this in front of Potter.
"Yes, I know, my love," she laughed, pressing a soothing palm to her husband's shoulder to placate him. "In the end you were mine, and proposed to me at a joint-family dinner. My parents were thrilled, and so was I." Narcissa took her hand back and admired her wedding ring, a massive diamond-encrusted thing.
Did Draco like diamonds? Harry hoped he wasn't quizzed on that. Did he know what kind of ring Draco would want? Why was he thinking so much about rings? He wouldn't let Lucius get to him.
"We were married right around the time your parents wed, Harry," she recalled, the memories coming back to her. "We had nary a guest in common between us so the two ceremonies went without overlapping. I remember their announcement in the Prophet, though." Hers had been bigger. She had paid specifically so it was.
"I am just a month older than you," Draco nodded to Harry. "At least no one can accuse us of having an age complex," he said under his breath.
It struck Harry then. Draco's birthday—this weekend! He tried to maintain his cool, train his face to not look like he'd just had a panicked epiphany.
"I don't even want to know," Lucius said of the weird look on Harry's face and whatever Draco had just muttered aside to him.
"Oh, Draco," Narcissa remembered. "The lawyers are on the case of whoever leaked your letters and say they are close to something. Have you been able to find anything out? It could help them greatly."
As discussed before they arrived, Draco and Harry played dumb. "Nothing yet," said Draco. "But we're playing the long game."
"Whatever that means, I simply hope you aren't doing anything reckless," Lucius warned. "We should let the lawyers handle this. They're quite capable witches."
The pair of sisters were Lucius and Narcissa's left and right arms into the wizarding world of England. These two die-hard lawyers had been half the reason they avoided Azkaban while so many of their old classmates had not. The other half was Harry Potter's personal pardoning on the stand.
"I don't doubt their skills," Draco answered diplomatically. "I'm sure we'll have a name and someone to sue very soon." But it would come from the trap they laid in the Dungeon. "So, father, would you permit I give Harry a tour of this estate? I want to show him the gardens and the peacocks after dinner."
"Yes, I will allow it," Lucius answered.
Harry hated that, that Lucius had to 'allow it'. To Harry, Draco was the smartest man he knew—man of course because no one was smarter than Hermione—and he still had to ask permission for things from his father. It made sense at least, Draco lacking control in his home life with his parents and wanting it in his home life with Harry. Perhaps not an age complex but a father one they shared, this idea of a man in charge who could do anything he wanted.
Harry finished up his meal mulling this over, remaining silent for now but having much to say later.
Draco finished his second and third glass of wine and stood up. "Shall we, Harry?" he offered with his arm.
Harry rose and took it, looking only at Draco. "Let's."
They were out of the dining room and back into the maze of rooms. Draco led him gently away, closing the glass door behind them when they got out to the yard.
As promised there was a flock of albino peacocks in various tableaus of respite, resting amongst one another by pond and herb garden. Now that they were alone and out of earshot Draco led Harry to a pristine white gazebo.
"Pureblood traditions are literally nonsense," Harry grumbled. "Complete garbage, so twisted and like, vaguely sexist and definitely homophobic and probably transphobic and—"
"Please ignore literally everything that just came out of his mouth," Draco requested of Harry, stopping in the center of the gazebo with him. "I know you're angry, I can feel it," Draco went on. It was like Harry's magic coalesced around him, like he might put out an eye with a fork or, perhaps more aptly, inflate an aunt when faced with family dynamics. That story was a wild one to hear. "But Harry, you did very well in there. If you want we can just go home now, forget about them," Draco offered.
"Wouldn't it be rude to go home without saying goodbye?" Harry questioned, tempted as he was.
"Yes, but If you want out—"
"No," Harry replied firmly, offended that Draco had offered him the out before he said their safe word for this evening in particular: Toad. "I don't want out. I'm going to do this right with you. We do things on our own schedule."
Draco's knees quivered slightly to hear Harry speaking once more with the conviction of a man in love. "Well then, if you're serious…" Draco said, smoothing back Harry's hair and giving his forehead a kiss. "Shall we go tell mum and pop we're off for a fuck?"
Harry burst out laughing and Draco laughed with him. They rested their bodies together for a moment as the laughter died down.
"I want you to know," Harry spoke first in their embrace. "I meant everything I said, and I mean this: You shouldn't have to ask permission from parents or anyone else to love the way we want to."
Draco smiled dreamily over Harry's shoulder. This man was his greatest love he'd ever known, so brave and at times wiser than his years. "Right you are. Attaboy." He reached beneath Harry's chin and raised it up. "Chin up, shoulders back." Draco followed his own instructions as Harry did. "Let's go say goodbye our way."
They walked back to meet Draco's parents and they were thankfully still at the table, not having followed the couple.
"Thank you both," Harry said as calmly and coolly as he could. "For the food and hospitality. We will be going now, but I hope we can do this again in the future."
"See?" Narcissa said as if Harry had caught the older couple mid-bickering. "Harry still wants to come back after all that. What a man. I like him very much, Draco."
"Thank you, Narcissa," Harry said serenely. "I've been told I take a beating well."
Lucius paled; Narcissa snorted a very unladylike laugh and covered her mouth.
"And to you, Lucius," Harry began and everyone held a collective breath. "Thank you for sharing the story of how you first met your lovely wife with me. You've raised an incredible man, Healer, and partner."
Lucius was almost disappointed there was nothing in there he could truly barb at. Almost. Really he must have been relieved somehow, for his headache was starting to fade, "Yes, well," Lucius said just like Draco always did when he was at a loss for words. "I love my son above all else. If you were a parent you would understand. I hope I have mentioned that before, that it is essential to continue the Malfoy line—"
"Okay, great seeing you, love you, bye!" Draco cut him off, leading Harry away and waving with his free hand as he backed up. They'd dealt with enough today in terms of pressure to get married or split up, and he didn't need to hear Lucius' spiel on why they ought to have children.
"We will send your gifts on your birthday!" Narcissa called after Draco as he took Harry to the fireplace in the entrance parlor.
"Did you hear that, Potter? Birthday! Don't forget it—" Lucius cried while the couple retreated.
"Oh, of course he didn't forget, Lucius. Now, if we can talk about how rude you've been…"
Their voices and arguing faded as Draco dragged him away.
They stepped through the Floo and were home at last. Quiet, simple home where things made sense to Harry. He let out a breath he was holding, and as soon as he did so Draco's lips were upon his. "You are the eye of the storm, Harry," Draco murmured low. "My life is madness, as you've seen, and we're mad, as you probably know."
"Oh, I know," said Harry, understanding his every meaning. "But to share a life with you is worth all the madness and more."
Soft as a feather and mad as a hatter, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter smiled.