The Proposal

It had been three days since their conversation in Harry's office. Since then, the bizarre tension between Harry and Draco had only escalated. The moments of sharp, witty banter felt more loaded than usual. Every time Draco brushed against him—accidentally or on purpose—Harry's stomach would churn with an unfamiliar mix of irritation and something else that he refused to acknowledge.

The constant tug of war between their roles as rival wizards and their forced, pretend engagement was beginning to wear on him. And now, on top of everything else, there was the impending visit to Malfoy Manor for Narcissa Malfoy's birthday celebration.

Narcissa Malfoy had been one of the most formidable women in the wizarding world, known for her elegance, sharp tongue, and connection to high society. Harry couldn't help but feel a little nervous as he stood before the large, imposing gates of Malfoy Manor, the architecture towering like something out of an ancient storybook. It felt more like walking into a relic from a past life—a world Harry had barely known.

Draco, as always, appeared completely unfazed by it all, his posture immaculate as he adjusted his cufflinks with a casual air.

"You look terrified," Draco remarked, glancing over at Harry, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm not terrified," Harry muttered, but he could feel the slight tremble in his hands as they adjusted the collar of his robe.

The Manor was intimidating, and the weight of their fake relationship felt even heavier now that it would be put to the test in front of Draco's family. Harry had been invited by Draco under the pretense that they were deeply in love—something Narcissa was bound to interrogate. There was no way around it.

"I'm just... not sure what you're expecting me to do here," Harry continued, clearly uncomfortable. "What if I mess this up?"

"You won't," Draco said, his voice suddenly more serious than Harry had expected. He met Harry's gaze, his expression unreadable. "You just need to play your part. Act like you actually like me for five minutes, and everything will be fine."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Just five minutes?"

Draco grinned, leaning in slightly. "Well, that's all it'll take for my mother to believe we're really engaged. Trust me. She's got an eye for these things."

As they stepped through the large, heavy doors of Malfoy Manor, Harry couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation grow heavier. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals shimmering in the light of dozens of floating candles. Portraits of ancestors stared down at them from every wall, their faces painted with disapproval or haughty indifference. Harry felt like he was being judged before he'd even opened his mouth.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor," Draco said with a flourish, though his voice was still tinged with something almost... fond. "Try not to look so out of place, Potter. They'll pick up on that faster than you think."

"Thanks for the advice," Harry replied dryly, though he couldn't suppress the nervous feeling gnawing at him.

They were met by a house elf at the entrance, who led them through the sprawling estate to the main parlor. Harry's gaze kept flicking around, his senses assaulted by the opulence of everything—everything seemed so pristine, from the delicate china to the polished wooden floors. This place felt like a relic of old wizarding aristocracy, and it unsettled Harry more than he cared to admit.

As they entered the grand parlor, Harry was immediately hit with the unmistakable presence of Narcissa Malfoy, seated gracefully beside Lucius Malfoy, her platinum blonde hair shining under the soft light. Narcissa looked even more elegant in person than Harry had imagined—her sharp eyes narrowing as she regarded him with polite scrutiny.

"Well, if it isn't the famous Harry Potter," Narcissa said with a smile that was as polite as it was cold. Her gaze flickered to Draco before settling back on Harry. "I must admit, I'm curious to see if you live up to the stories. We don't get many heroes around here."

Harry gave a tight smile, doing his best to match her icy composure. "I don't know about heroes, but I'm happy to be here. Thank you for inviting me."

Narcissa's smile widened just slightly. "Of course. Draco has always spoken highly of you, Harry. I trust he hasn't exaggerated."

"I'm sure he hasn't," Harry replied smoothly, though he could feel his palms beginning to sweat. The more Narcissa looked at him, the more Harry was certain that she could see straight through him, that she could tell this was all a ruse.

Before Harry could say anything else, Lucius Malfoy's deep, amused voice cut through the air. "Well, well," Lucius began, his sharp gaze falling on Harry as if examining an artifact. His voice was rich with that same sassy undertone Harry had always associated with him. "The famous Boy Who Lived, playing the part of fiancé now, is he?" He gave a slow, exaggerated glance at Draco before returning to Harry. "Quite the turn of events, wouldn't you say? Last I checked, you two hated each other more than a pair of dementors."

Harry felt his face flush slightly, though he quickly masked his embarrassment with a forced smile. "People change," he said, though his mind was racing. Lucius was already skeptical, and Harry didn't know how to answer without revealing how little of this relationship was actually true. He turned his attention to Draco, hoping for some help.

Draco's smirk was unperturbed as he turned to his father. "Father, you underestimate me. Harry and I have a... unique understanding. Don't we, Potter?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco but managed to keep his voice steady. "Of course," he said with as much sincerity as he could muster, though the words felt foreign on his tongue.

Lucius gave a long, appraising look between them before raising an eyebrow. "Unique, indeed," he muttered, his voice laced with skepticism. "I'm not sure what I find more amusing—the idea of you two as an actual couple, or the fact that you think you can fool me."

Narcissa, who had been watching the exchange with a neutral expression, now spoke up. Her tone was distant but accepting. "Lucius, darling, I believe it's time we gave them the benefit of the doubt. After all, Draco has his reasons. And Harry has certainly been through enough. If they say they're engaged, I think we should take them at their word." She gave a small, encouraging smile to Harry before turning back to Lucius. "I'm sure they'll prove it in time."

Lucius let out a dramatic sigh, but Harry could tell there was a certain begrudging respect in his eyes. "Very well. But don't expect me to be convinced so easily. You'll have to do more than exchange a few pleasantries to win me over."

Harry's stomach tightened as he realized the stakes had just been raised.

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, Harry tried his best to blend in. He couldn't help but notice the odd affection in Narcissa's eyes as she observed him and Draco. There was a distance in her demeanor, but it was mixed with a quiet acceptance. It was clear she loved her son deeply, and Harry had the feeling that, despite everything, she was rooting for them in some strange way.

The evening wore on, and the more time Harry spent in the presence of Draco's family, the more it became evident just how much Draco was entrenched in this world. His casual arrogance, the way he moved through the room with ease, the subtle power he exuded—Draco was clearly at home here. And Harry was painfully aware of how much he didn't belong.

But one thing was for sure: no matter how much Harry wanted to back out of this farce, he couldn't. Not now. Not when it felt like every word and gesture was under such intense scrutiny.