Chapter 6
**The Drawing Room, A Month Later**
*It had been weeks since Draco had started embracing his feminine side, and with each passing day, he felt more comfortable in his own skin. What was even more surprising to him was how Harry seemed to gravitate toward it—not out of curiosity, but with genuine admiration.*
It was late afternoon when Harry walked into the drawing room, his usual casual demeanor replaced with an energy that made Draco’s heart skip a beat. He had become so attuned to Harry’s presence now, to the way he moved, to the way his eyes softened when they landed on him. But today, something was different.
Harry’s eyes lingered on Draco longer than usual, and there was a warmth in his gaze that Draco couldn’t ignore. He was sitting by the large window, a book in his lap, though he hadn’t read a single word. The sunlight poured in, casting a soft glow over his outfit—another delicate piece he’d chosen, this time a silken blouse with floral embroidery at the collar. It was feminine, graceful, and it made Draco feel like he was finally becoming the person he’d always been afraid to show.
Harry didn’t even bother with the usual greeting. Instead, he crossed the room with purpose, stopping only when he was right in front of Draco. The air between them felt charged, a tangible electricity that neither of them could deny.
“Draco,” Harry murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. “You look... breathtaking.”
Draco’s breath hitched at the sincerity in Harry’s voice. He wasn’t used to hearing such things—not from anyone, least of all from Harry. But Harry didn’t stop there. Without warning, he reached out and cupped Draco’s cheek, his touch gentle but firm. Draco’s heart raced at the tenderness in Harry’s touch.
“Harry...” Draco whispered, his voice trembling slightly.
But before Draco could say anything more, Harry leaned in, his lips brushing softly against Draco’s forehead in an almost reverent kiss. Draco froze, his entire body reacting to the softness and warmth of Harry’s kiss.
For a moment, Harry pulled back, just enough to look at Draco, his eyes darkened with something Draco couldn’t quite place. “You deserve to be treated like this, Draco,” Harry said, his voice soft but filled with intent. “You deserve to be adored.”
Draco’s heart skipped. He had never felt so seen, so cherished, and it was terrifying in the best possible way. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the words sink in, before he whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before.”
Harry’s thumb stroked the skin of Draco’s cheek, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Then let me show you, Draco,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Let me show you how much I care.”
Draco’s breath caught in his throat. Harry was more than just fond of him now—he was falling for him, and Draco could feel it in every touch, every word. He leaned into Harry’s touch, his own hands reaching up to rest on Harry’s chest, pulling him just a fraction closer.
The space between them was electric, and before Draco knew it, Harry had leaned down to kiss him. It was gentle at first, tentative, as though Harry was asking for permission, but Draco opened up to him, letting the kiss deepen. Their lips moved together with an ease that was startling, the growing connection between them undeniable.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard, and Draco felt something he had never felt before—a sense of belonging, of being truly seen.
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**Later That Evening, The Malfoy Garden**
*The evening air was cool, and the garden was quiet save for the distant rustling of the trees. Harry and Draco found themselves walking side by side, the silence between them no longer awkward but comfortable. Draco still couldn’t believe how much had changed between them in such a short time.*
Draco had never been one for public displays of affection—he had always been taught to maintain a certain level of composure, of distance—but now, with Harry, it felt different. Harry wasn’t asking him to hide anything. If anything, he was making it clear that Draco didn’t need to hide.
Without thinking, Harry reached out, slipping his hand into Draco’s. The simple gesture was enough to make Draco’s heart race. He turned to look at Harry, but Harry wasn’t looking at him. Instead, he was focused on the path ahead, his thumb gently brushing against Draco’s hand, as if to reassure him that this, whatever it was, was real.
“Harry,” Draco said, his voice soft, “are you sure about this? About me?”
Harry glanced at him, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Draco.”
Draco swallowed hard, his chest tightening with emotion. “But... I’m not who I used to be. I’m different. I’m—”
“Perfect,” Harry interrupted, squeezing Draco’s hand. “You’re perfect the way you are. I’m not asking you to change.”
Draco felt a warmth spread through him, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe those words. He wasn’t perfect in anyone else’s eyes, but in Harry’s, he was exactly what he needed to be. It was a feeling so rare and so fragile that he almost didn’t want to let go of it.
Without another word, Draco leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed Harry softly. It was a kiss of reassurance, a promise that they were in this together, no matter where their journey took them.
When they pulled away, Harry smiled, a smile full of affection and certainty. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Draco. I love you just the way you are.”
Draco’s heart swelled, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he was pretending. He didn’t have to hide behind a mask, behind the expectations of his family. He was finally free to be himself, to embrace the softness, the femininity that had always been inside him, and to do so with someone who adored him for it.