Chapter 11
The warm peace of the morning quickly gave way to tension as Harry and Draco descended the grand staircase of Malfoy Manor. They had been called to the drawing room by Narcissa’s personal house-elf, who had looked noticeably flustered. Harry could already sense the storm brewing, his hand brushing against Draco’s in silent reassurance.
Draco, however, wore his usual cool, composed expression—one he had perfected over years of dealing with his family’s dramatics. But Harry could feel the tension in his posture.
Inside the drawing room, James and Narcissa were waiting. Narcissa sat in her usual regal manner, her hands clasped neatly in her lap, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. James, however, looked like he was trying very hard to remain calm, though the furrow of his brows and the clenching of his fists spoke volumes.
“Draco,” Narcissa began, her tone calm but with an edge of sternness, “Harry.” She inclined her head briefly toward Harry, though her lips pressed into a thin line. “Sit.”
Draco arched a brow but obeyed, sinking gracefully into one of the velvet chairs. Harry followed suit, his shoulders squared, ready to defend himself if necessary.
James was the first to speak, his voice steady but sharp. “We need to talk about what we saw last night.”
Draco’s lips twitched slightly, but he kept his expression neutral. “And what exactly did you see, Mr. Potter?” he asked, his tone polite but pointed.
James’s jaw tightened. “You, sitting in Harry’s lap, wearing a dress.”
Narcissa’s eyes narrowed slightly, though her voice remained calm. “It was… unexpected, to say the least.”
Draco tilted his head slightly, his pale hair catching the light. “I fail to see why my attire is of any concern to either of you. It’s not as if I’m violating some family code.”
Harry decided to step in, his voice firm but calm. “With all due respect, Dad, Narcissa, Draco hasn’t done anything wrong. And neither have I.”
James looked at Harry, his frustration evident. “Harry, you’re barely out of Hogwarts, and you’re already—” He paused, searching for the right words. “Already entangled like this, in the middle of your parents’ marriage plans. It’s a complicated situation.”
Draco’s cool demeanor faltered slightly, his shoulders stiffening. “Entangled?” he repeated, his voice icy. “As if Harry and I are some inconvenience to your grand plans?”
Narcissa raised a hand, her tone sharp now. “Draco, this isn’t about inconveniences. It’s about propriety, about timing. Your father—” She paused, her voice softening briefly. “Your father wouldn’t have approved of this… display.”
Draco’s gaze hardened, his jaw tightening. “My father isn’t here anymore,” he said quietly, but there was steel in his voice. “And if he were, he’d have more to say about you marrying James Potter than he would about me being with Harry.”
The room fell silent, tension thick in the air.
James sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Look, this isn’t about Lucius or about us,” he said, his voice softer now. “It’s about making sure you’re both thinking clearly. Relationships like this aren’t easy, especially with everything going on. I just don’t want either of you to get hurt.”
Harry leaned forward, his green eyes blazing with determination. “Dad, I love him,” he said simply, his voice steady. “And I know what I’m doing. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Draco’s head snapped toward Harry, his eyes widening slightly. Harry hadn’t said it before—not like this, not so openly. And in front of their parents, no less.
Narcissa’s lips parted, her composure momentarily faltering. “You… love him?”
Harry nodded without hesitation. “Yes, I do. And if you’re worried about timing or propriety or anything else, let me make this clear: nothing is going to change how I feel about Draco. I’ll stand by him, no matter what.”
Draco swallowed hard, his heart pounding. He had never expected Harry to be so bold, so certain. His own emotions felt like a whirlwind, but one thing was clear—he felt the same.
Draco turned to Narcissa, his voice soft but firm. “Mother, I know you’re trying to protect me. But Harry does that better than anyone else ever could. I’m not going to hide how I feel about him, not for you, not for anyone.”
Narcissa looked between Draco and Harry, her usually unreadable expression shifting into something softer. She exhaled quietly, her shoulders relaxing. “If this is what you truly want, Draco… I won’t stand in your way.”
James, though still looking conflicted, gave Harry a long, searching look before finally nodding. “Just… promise me you’ll take care of each other. This world can be cruel.”
Harry reached over, his hand brushing against Draco’s. “I promise.”
Draco looked at Harry, his pale cheeks slightly flushed, and nodded. “So do I.”
The tension in the room dissipated, replaced by an uneasy but growing acceptance. As Harry and Draco left the drawing room, their hands brushing but not quite holding, Harry leaned closer, whispering with a smirk, “You wore a dress and still managed to win them over. Impressive.”
Draco rolled his eyes, but his lips curved into a small smile. “I told you, Potter. I’m irresistible.”
Harry chuckled, his hand finally slipping into Draco’s as they walked away together. “You’re mine,” he murmured, the words soft but full of love.
“And I always will be,” Draco replied, squeezing Harry’s hand gently.