Chapter 1
Draco Malfoy never imagined himself in a relationship with Harry Potter, yet here he was—held in the arms of the Boy Who Lived, cherished and adored. At first, it was everything he could have wanted. Harry loved him, and for the first time in his life, Draco felt safe.
But then, the requests began.
"Grow your hair out for me, love," Harry had said, fingers twining through Draco’s pale locks. "You’d look stunning."
It was a simple request. Innocent, even. So Draco agreed.
Then came the next request.
"I bought you something." Harry presented him with a silky, emerald-green nightgown. "Wear it for me?"
Draco hesitated—but Harry looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world. How could he say no?
One request led to another. His wardrobe changed. His hair cascaded down his shoulders. The affectionate "Draco" became "love," then "darling," then... "my pretty girlfriend."
At first, Draco laughed it off. Harry was just teasing, right? He wasn’t actually *serious*. But the way Harry’s grip tightened when Draco hesitated, the way his lips curled in displeasure when Draco protested—it unsettled him.
"I’m not—"
"Shhh," Harry whispered against his lips. "You like making me happy, don’t you?"
Of course he did. So he swallowed his unease and smiled.
The love remained. The affection never wavered. But with each passing day, Draco felt himself slipping away. The mirror reflected someone he barely recognized—pretty, delicate, exactly the way Harry wanted him.
Yet, he couldn’t leave.
Because he loved Harry.
And Harry loved *her*.