"Escort a lady to the dance floor, Chief Potter?"
"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Malfoy."
From the corner of the ballroom where he was talking boring business, Draco Malfoy watched his beautiful wife smile, twirl, and sway with the Chosen One. The Malfoy heir had married Astoria two years before in a traditional arranged pureblood marriage. At the time, he just wanted to be out of the Manor and not to be alone. Marrying a beautiful witch should be easy, right?
It turned out it wasn't. Draco had just spent three years under probation, and during that time, he had become reserved and almost taciturn. Astoria was extroverted and full of life, and he couldn't help but feel that life had handed her a bad deal by tying her up to a former Death Eater. Astoria insisted that she wasn't unhappy, but she certainly wasn't joyful for the first year. Not the way he knew she could be if she had got the relationship that she deserved. Tonight, watching her enjoy her time with Potter, his heart cringed: maybe he should let her go. Let her be happy. But it was not that easy, because it would also mean to let him go.
During his probation, the newly minted Junior Auror Potter had volunteered to be his parole officer. In the beginning, Draco took the news with a grain of salt, assuming that the Boy Who Lived would use this opportunity to get his revenge on everything that Draco had done to him during the years. As always, Potter had nothing but good intentions. The first few months, Draco couldn't stand it: Saint Potter was back, magnanimous as ever, making him feel even more miserable and undeserving. The fact that the Gryffindor was infallibly polite and professional ground the Slytherin's nerves to no end. It would have been so much easier if they were still yelling insults at each other. Or at least, if Scarhead would stop pretending and let his well-deserved ire lose on Draco. Then after about six months, Harry walked through the floo of Malfoy Manor looking like shite. The Slytherin noticed how he was going through the usual paperwork without paying much attention and asked what was wrong. Potter shrugged.
"Ginny dumped me."
For a minute, Draco wished he hadn't asked. An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Then an idea occurred to him.
"Do you want to chase a snitch? For old times' sake?"
Harry's face opened into a smile despite the sadness in his eyes. Draco had to grasp his pureblood restraint not to hug him. That was the first time that he admitted to himself that he was obsessed with Harry Potter. He had sincerely wanted to be his friend the first day at Hogwarts, but of course, that had gone really bad really fast. Then, for the next four years, he had watched from afar how, despite everything that had happened to him, Potter was a happy boy. Genuinely happy. Draco, on the other hand, had it all, yet he was miserable.
That day at the Manor, they chased a snitch, mocked each other, and ended up getting drunk together. Forced to each other's company for three years had cemented an intimate friendship. What both of them kept a secret was that their feelings had grown to be more than friendly.
Meanwhile, the senior Malfoys drafted a marriage arrangement with the Greengrasses to be fulfilled as soon as their heir's probation was over. In an unconscious attempt to consolidate Harry's presence in his life, Draco had tried to fix him up with Astoria's older sister Daphne. Pretty as the witch was, it did not work. Harry, for his part, tried to talk Draco out of the marriage, thinking it was an archaic idea to get hitched because of a contract between families, but the blonde wanted to see his mother happy. The day of the wedding arrived, and Harry stood by his friend's side as the best man.
The newlyweds had a pleasant enough honeymoon, but there were no fireworks. When they came back, Astoria noticed her husband's attachment to the young Auror, so she made the purpose of getting to know the wizard. It turned out, they clicked. Astoria's sweetness made Harry melt, and the afternoons the three of them spent playing board games, flying their brooms, or just keeping each other company were among the happiest of Draco's life.
And that was why tonight, watching them dance, Draco felt so conflicted. His lukewarm relationship with Astoria had become a happy one when she opened herself to Harry. They were perfect together. Every time they were around each other, they irradiated joy. And their happiness spilled right into Draco's heart. That's where the conflict started: would he deny them the chance to be together so he could keep living under the umbrella of their joy? Or should he step back and let the two people he loved the most be happy?
He was shaken from his thoughts by a swirl of said joy. Harry had led Astoria to his side, waltzing and twirling until she landed perfectly in her husband's arms. Draco dipped her gracefully, her sweet laughter filling their shared bubble of happiness. When he helped her up, she said:
"I think I had enough of this stiff party. Shall we go home?"
Harry's face fell, but he offered a coy smile.
"I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow, maybe?"
"Nonsense! You are coming with us! I'm not leaving you here to be devoured by boring bureaucrats." Without warning, she apparated the three of them to the drawing-room of their house.