Chapter Five
The gala had come and gone in a blur of stilted conversations, clinking glasses, and sparkling lights. The moment the event ended, Harry was more than ready to escape the suffocating atmosphere. He'd managed to maintain a facade of calm all evening, but every moment spent under Draco's watchful gaze seemed to twist in on itself.
Now, standing in the plush lobby of the Ministry, with the remnants of the night's party chatter fading in the distance, Harry couldn't wait to put as much distance between himself and Draco as possible.
"Well, that was exhausting," Harry muttered as he tugged his robes back into place, his mind still spinning from the dance. He couldn't shake the sensation of Draco's hands at his waist, the sharp intensity of his gaze during the waltz.
Draco, who had been trailing behind him, seemed entirely unaffected by the evening. His hair was slightly mussed, and there was a subtle gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, but otherwise, he was as cool and composed as ever.
"I told you it would be tedious," Draco said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a lazy smile. "You did surprisingly well, though. I had my doubts for a moment, but you didn't embarrass yourself."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Harry replied dryly, feeling the sarcasm linger in the air between them. He wasn't sure if Draco was genuinely being kind or if he was just enjoying Harry's discomfort.
The lift doors opened with a soft chime, and they both stepped inside. Harry leaned against the cool wall, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Draco pressed the button for the elevator, and they started the ascent to Harry's office. The silence stretched between them, thick and palpable. Harry felt his pulse quicken, acutely aware of the fact that they were alone. The absence of the party's noise made the space seem even smaller.
"So," Draco began, his voice breaking through the silence, "you really hate these things, don't you?"
Harry shot him an exasperated glance. "What gave it away?"
Draco smirked. "The fact that you looked like you wanted to murder someone the whole night." He leaned casually against the side of the lift, his eyes glinting in the low light. "You can relax now. It's over."
Harry didn't respond, instead letting his gaze drift out of the lift's narrow window as the Ministry building stretched into the night sky. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or irritated. This whole situation had gotten messier by the minute. Draco was his fiancé, for Merlin's sake, and yet Harry couldn't help but feel like they were walking some strange line between rivals and... something else.
"Potter, you're looking awfully serious again," Draco continued, his voice breaking through Harry's thoughts. "What's on your mind?"
"Nothing," Harry muttered. "I'm just thinking."
"About me?" Draco's voice was light but carried an edge of something else. Something sharper.
Harry turned to face him. "Why would I be thinking about you?"
Draco gave a slow smile, his eyes narrowing just slightly. "I think you're lying."
"Don't be ridiculous," Harry said quickly, turning back toward the elevator doors, his face flushed. He hated how easily Draco could get under his skin.
The lift dinged, and they both stepped out into the quiet hall. Harry was grateful for the brief distraction, but as soon as they reached his office, the weight of the evening hit him like a ton of bricks. He needed space. Needed to breathe.
"Do you mind if I—" Harry began but was interrupted by Draco's low chuckle.
"No, don't worry," Draco said smoothly. "You want to be alone. I get it. You're not the social type." He flashed Harry a glance, his eyes full of amusement. "I'll leave you to sulk, then."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sulking."
"You're not not sulking," Draco teased, his lips twisting into a smile as he made his way toward the door. "But don't worry, Potter. I'll let you off the hook tonight."
"Great," Harry muttered, the irritation bubbling up inside him. "Thanks for your mercy."
Draco's smile didn't falter as he opened the door. "Anytime."
Just before Draco stepped out, Harry blurted, "You're not really leaving, are you?"
Draco paused, his hand still on the door handle, his back to Harry. "You really want me to stay?" There was a sharpness in his tone, like he was testing the waters.
Harry could feel his heart skip a beat at the implication, but he refused to show any vulnerability. "No. I just... Don't be surprised if I change my mind in five minutes."
Draco gave a low laugh, the sound echoing in the hallway. "You're a strange one, Potter."
"Goodbye, Malfoy," Harry said, his voice a little too tight.
Draco didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned, his eyes holding Harry's for a moment longer than necessary. The air in the room seemed to shift as he walked out of the office, leaving Harry standing there with his thoughts swirling in every direction.
A Week Later
It had been a week since the gala, and Harry was no closer to figuring out where he stood in this insane arrangement. The whole thing felt like some twisted nightmare, but worse—because it was his own creation.
He'd tried to distance himself from Draco, but it wasn't easy. The next few days had been full of forced interactions—meetings, scheduled interviews, even press appearances. And each time, Draco had been by his side, his presence like a shadow Harry couldn't shake off.
At least, when they weren't pretending to be perfect partners, they were trying to kill each other with insults and sarcastic remarks. The rivalry was a constant, simmering just beneath the surface. But even that felt strange. There were moments when Harry could almost imagine that it was all for show. The biting words, the mockery, the little jabs—they were part of the act, right?
Harry didn't know. He didn't want to know.
"Potter," came Draco's voice as Harry walked down the hall, completely lost in his thoughts. "We need to talk."
"About what?" Harry asked, not turning to look at him.
Draco smirked, that knowing, irritating smirk. "About how we're supposed to convince everyone we're in love."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Right. Because that's going to be easy."
"Would you rather go back to pretending we hate each other?" Draco shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I thought you wanted to make this work."
Harry didn't have an answer for that, so he just sighed. "Lead the way, then."