The Proposal

The days following their Ministry meeting felt like a whirlwind of appearances and rehearsed smiles. Each time Harry and Draco found themselves facing reporters or Ministry officials, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that their lives were being scripted by someone else. They were expected to play the role of a perfect couple—despite the fact that their bond was anything but perfect.

It didn't help that the press seemed more determined than ever to get a glimpse into their "relationship." Paparazzi camped outside the Ministry, snapping photos as they walked to meetings, and reporters hounded them for every scrap of detail about their "love story." It was exhausting, to say the least.

Today was no different. As Harry and Draco arrived at Malfoy Manor for a supposed "family gathering," the usual flurry of photographers swarmed around them. Draco, ever the pro, ignored them completely, his face set in an expression of bored indifference. Harry, on the other hand, found himself trying—and failing—to look casual, all the while wishing he could just disappear.

"Smile for the cameras, Potter," Draco said with a smug grin as Harry fumbled with his coat.

"I'm trying to pretend I don't want to hex them all," Harry muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Draco to hear.

Draco chuckled, the sound light and almost genuine, which made Harry's chest tighten in a way he couldn't quite explain. "That's the problem with you, Potter. You take everything too seriously."

"I'm supposed to be a fucking public figure now, Malfoy," Harry shot back. "And I'm supposed to pretend this is normal."

"It's only normal if you let it be." Draco's voice dropped a notch, his usual arrogance replaced with something a little more thoughtful. "Besides, you're not the only one playing a role here."

Harry looked at him, curious despite himself. "What do you mean?"

Draco shrugged, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "You think I'm thrilled with this whole situation? This... engagement?" He gestured vaguely to the crowd outside, as if the whole world was watching. "I didn't exactly sign up for it."

Harry's lips pressed into a thin line. "I didn't either, you know."

Draco's gaze softened for just a moment before it turned into something unreadable. "We're not the ones pulling the strings, Potter. We're just doing what's expected of us."

That stung more than Harry wanted to admit. In that moment, it felt like Draco was finally acknowledging the truth—this engagement wasn't about love. It was about appearances, about politics, about doing what was necessary. Harry's chest tightened again, but he pushed the feeling down.

"We don't have to be happy about it," Harry muttered, feeling the weight of the situation pressing on him. "But we can at least make it look real."

Draco nodded, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Now that's the spirit."

As they entered Malfoy Manor, the grandiosity of the estate seemed to swallow them whole. The marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers, and the air smelled of expensive perfumes and rare potions. It was exactly the kind of place Harry had expected from the Malfoys: cold, imposing, and yet impossibly elegant.

"Welcome to the family gathering," Draco said in a low voice, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Try not to get too comfortable."

Harry shot him a pointed look, but the smirk that played on Draco's lips was impossible to ignore. "Do you always greet people like this?"

"You've met my parents," Draco replied, raising an eyebrow. "What did you expect?"

Harry didn't have a good answer for that. He'd met Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy before, but it had always been under tense circumstances. There was a time when the Malfoys had been enemies—when Harry had seen them as nothing more than obstacles in the way of defeating Voldemort. Now, here he was, pretending to be their son's fiancée, caught up in a web of lies and secrets.

"Draco, Harry," Narcissa's voice cut through the air as they entered the sitting room. She stood at the far end of the room, her arms extended in a warm, inviting gesture. "I'm so glad you could join us."

Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as she approached, her presence calming in a way that contrasted with the coldness of the house. Narcissa Malfoy was the antithesis of her husband in many ways. Where Lucius was sharp and commanding, Narcissa was soft-spoken, with an air of elegance that made her seem untouchable.

"Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said, smiling politely. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Of course, Harry," she said, her eyes soft and knowing. "I'm sure you've had a busy few days. But tonight, let's forget about all of that. Tonight is about family."

Family. Harry couldn't suppress the bitterness that rose in his throat at the word. It was a concept he had long since lost faith in. But tonight, he had to pretend.

"Is Draco being a good host?" Narcissa asked, her voice light.

"Of course," Harry said, though there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, she turned to Draco, her tone becoming more serious. "Your father is waiting in the study. I suggest you go see him."

Draco's face darkened slightly, but he nodded. "I'll be there in a moment."

As Draco stepped away, Harry was left alone with Narcissa. She studied him for a moment, as if weighing her next words carefully.

"You're doing well, Harry," she said softly, her voice almost motherly. "I know this isn't easy for you. But I can see how hard you're trying."

Harry blinked, thrown off guard by her sudden kindness. He hadn't expected it, not from someone like Narcissa. But then again, he supposed he hadn't really given her a chance before. She'd always been Draco's mother, someone who had stood on the other side during the war. Now, it seemed as though things had shifted.

"I'm just trying to get through it," Harry replied, unsure of how to respond. "I don't really know what I'm doing."

Narcissa's lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. "None of us do, Harry. We all have to play the hand we're dealt."

"Is that what you're doing?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Narcissa's gaze softened. "I'm doing what's best for my family. And sometimes, that means doing things we don't want to do."

Harry felt a flicker of understanding pass between them. Maybe there was more to Narcissa Malfoy than he had originally thought.

As Draco returned from his conversation with Lucius, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Draco looked more tense than usual, the weight of his father's expectations settling on his shoulders.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked, frowning slightly.

Draco gave him a tight-lipped smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just another Malfoy family discussion. Same old, same old."

Harry didn't push him further, but he couldn't help the feeling that there was more going on with Draco than he was letting on. The walls between them were getting higher, and Harry wasn't sure how to bring them down.