The Proposal

The following morning, the weight of their conversation lingered like an invisible presence in the air. Harry sat in the back of the carriage as it made its way toward the Ministry, his mind buzzing with the words Draco had said—and, more notably, the ones he hadn't. The briefest flicker of vulnerability had passed between them the night before, and Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted.

But what exactly had shifted? And did Draco even realize it?

Harry had never been one for self-reflection, always too busy putting out fires or dealing with the latest crisis to think about his own emotions. But with Draco, it was different. The constant push and pull, the rivalry that had once defined them, had been replaced with something else. Something more complicated.

"Potter, you look like you've just been hit with a bludger," Draco's voice broke through Harry's thoughts, sharp as ever.

Harry blinked, snapping back to reality. "What?"

Draco smirked at him from across the carriage, his posture relaxed despite the early morning chill. "You're staring off into space like some lovesick fool. What's got you so distracted?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not distracted," he said, his tone gruff, but even he could hear the slight falter in his voice. "Just thinking."

"About what?" Draco pressed, his tone growing more insistent.

"Nothing," Harry muttered, looking out the window. The snowy landscape outside blurred as they sped toward the city, and Harry found himself wishing for the solitude of his flat rather than the inevitable swarm of reporters and press waiting for them at the Ministry.

Draco didn't press further, but Harry could feel his gaze on him, sharp and calculating, even through the quiet tension in the carriage. It seemed that Draco always knew when something was off with him, even when Harry didn't want to admit it.

When they arrived at the Ministry, the usual chaos surrounded them. A small crowd had gathered outside, the eager flash of cameras reflecting the bright sunlight as reporters shoved microphones in their faces. Harry had long gotten used to the attention, but today, it felt different. The whispers and the pointed questions seemed to carry more weight than usual.

"Mr. Potter, is it true that you and Mr. Malfoy are getting married?" a reporter asked as they stepped out of the carriage.

"Are the rumors true that you're already planning your wedding?" another shouted.

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Draco placed a hand on his arm. "Let's not dignify that question with an answer," Draco said, his tone smooth, as if he were addressing an unruly crowd at one of his father's events. "We're here for business, not for your gossip."

The reporters murmured in disappointment, but Draco's words had the desired effect—he'd shut them down without missing a beat. Harry gave him a sidelong glance, impressed despite himself.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, his tone a bit more subdued than he intended.

"Don't mention it," Draco replied with a small smirk, though his eyes lingered on Harry for a moment longer than necessary. "It's not like I want to talk about my personal life either."

The two of them walked side by side through the Ministry, the murmur of the crowd following them as they made their way to the large atrium where the meeting was set to take place. Harry could feel the eyes of the Ministry workers on them, but he tried to ignore the prying stares. This was business. This was what they had to do.

But as they entered the meeting room, Harry's nerves began to rise again. He wasn't sure why this particular meeting made him feel uneasy, but the tension in the air was palpable. It didn't help that Draco was standing just a bit too close, his presence so sharp it almost made Harry feel exposed.

They were supposed to be playing a role. It was just an engagement for appearances' sake. That's all it was.

But the longer Harry spent in Draco's company, the more difficult it became to separate the pretense from reality.

The meeting began with introductions and the usual pleasantries. The higher-ups at the Ministry were cordial, but there was no mistaking the undertone of curiosity as they watched the two of them interact. It didn't help that Harry and Draco had become the subject of so many rumors in the past few weeks.

"We'll need to present a united front," one of the Ministry officials said, looking between Harry and Draco. "If the press is to be believed, the Malfoy name is all but bound to the Potter legacy now."

Draco's lips curved into a wry smile. "I'm sure that will be a very popular story among the masses."

Harry suppressed a groan. He could already imagine how the press would spin that line. But there was something about Draco's smirk, the way he so effortlessly played the game, that kept Harry on edge. It was as if Draco enjoyed the attention, enjoyed the manipulation, while Harry simply wanted to escape it all.

"We'll be happy to cooperate," Harry said, cutting in before Draco could say anything else. "Just...don't expect us to turn into the next power couple overnight."

"Of course," the official said with a tight smile. "But your engagement has already stirred up quite a bit of interest, Mr. Potter. We're hoping it will help shift public opinion on a number of matters."

Harry could tell they were being pushed into something they hadn't fully agreed to, and it made his skin crawl. He wasn't about to let the Ministry dictate his personal life—not without a fight.

Draco seemed to sense his unease and gave him a quick, almost imperceptible nod. Harry returned the gesture, grateful for the silent understanding between them.

The meeting carried on for what felt like hours, filled with more discussions on their "engagement" and how it could benefit both the Malfoys and the Potters in terms of political and social influence. Harry was barely listening anymore, his mind wandering back to the conversation with Draco the night before.

But it wasn't until the meeting came to a close, and they were stepping out of the room, that Harry finally found his voice.

"Draco," Harry said, his tone low but firm. "About last night..."

Draco raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, a sharp voice interrupted them.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Malfoy!" A reporter from the Daily Prophet had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, her camera crew in tow. "Can we get a statement on your engagement? Any wedding plans? The public is desperate to know!"

Harry's stomach churned, the walls closing in as the questions came at them faster than he could process. But before he could say anything, Draco stepped forward, taking control of the situation with his usual cool demeanor.

"Don't you think it's a bit too soon to be planning a wedding?" Draco said, his voice laced with mock sincerity. "Maybe we should leave that for a few more years."

The reporter blinked in surprise, her smile faltering. "But—"

"We're here for business," Draco interrupted smoothly. "And we've already told you all you need to know. You can take your questions elsewhere."

Without another word, he turned and began to walk away, his steps confident, leaving Harry to follow behind.

As they stepped out of the Ministry, Harry felt an odd mixture of gratitude and irritation. Gratitude because Draco had protected him, as always. Irritation because he couldn't shake the feeling that Draco had somehow made this whole situation worse.

But more than that, Harry couldn't stop thinking about their conversation the night before. The unspoken truths that had almost surfaced.

And the more he thought about it, the more Harry realized one thing for certain: nothing about this engagement—or his feelings for Draco—was as simple as he had once believed.