Wix Ever After

Sunday

Sundays were always intentionally light camera days. They were given the entire afternoon to unwind from the pressure of constantly being monitored. They were also encouraged not to spend too much time together, to prevent “unfilmed plot advancement.”

Naturally there was no better time for Draco to knock on Silas’ door.

The pop star answered in their version of loungewear: oversized wide legged sweatpants and a short midriff shirt. “Draco. What brings you here?”

“Hi, Silas. I just wanted to check up on you, see how you were.”

Silas stared blankly for a long moment. Draco could see the moment they decided to bring back their bubbly smile. “Doing pretty great, thanks.”

Draco rubbed one toe into the carpet nervously as he considered just leaving. It would probably be wise. He just also thought something was up and didn’t want to leave too soon. “Yesterday must have been rough. I know what it’s like, being in the bottom two,” Draco said. “It sucks.” He was stubbornly refusing to think about how this was the week when it would happen again. When his time would run out.

Silas’ eyes may have narrowed very slightly, but it was hard to tell with their eye makeup. “It’s sweet what you’re trying to do,” Silas was the master of saying and doing things that looked one way but felt another against your skin, “but I’m all rainbows. This is just show biz.”

Draco bit his lip and considered saying he didn’t believe they were telling the truth, but it really wasn’t his place. So instead he ducked his head and stepped back. “Happy to hear it. I’ll see you for the viewing.”

“Bye now.” Silas’ door was very firmly shut.

-

It was hard to live through being picked last, and somehow harder to watch it on screen where the camera zoomed in on his face to show the world he’d been brokenhearted. Then they showed Susan and Jessie hugging gleefully at being on the same team, and maybe even at beating out Draco if their smug smirks were anything to go by. The producers used a split screen to show the mean girls’ sneering at the same time Silas could be seen hugging Draco and welcoming him to the team.

It was Jessie’s voice over that said, “I don’t know he’s even still here” while Draco pulled his black jersey on. “Harry’s too good for him. It won’t be long now until he’s sent packing.”

Keeping perspective meant remembering the producers had used the selection to share all sorts of gossip said behind the scenes.

Then again, by this point everyone knew the producers were out to cause trouble between the contestants, and anyone still talking smack didn’t mind that it would be put out in the open. Maybe they even wanted Draco to have to hear it.

The show leaned in hard to the thrill of a quidditch match. There was natural drama watching all the players give it their all, except for maybe Jessie who at least seemed to be having good fun as she struggled to do anything on the broom stick. Draco came out looking at least as good as Maurice and Roshni, and the producers clearly weren’t out to embarrass any of the lesser players. They were all shown giving it their all, even if Silas’ all was diving hard to catch a ball that passed through their fingers.

The real show was Harry and Marcus’ race for the snitch. They were magnificent, constantly on each other’s tail as they swooped around after the tiny golden ball and traded devil-may-care grins. Clearly, the two had chemistry. The way Draco used to think he and Harry had chemistry back at school when they matched against each other on the quidditch field. Silly fantasies on Draco’s part. Harry had clearly never thought of him like that at all.

Unfortunately, Draco said something along those lines in the confessional and that was what they put on screen. It made Draco sound like he thought he could do as well as Marcus if only he’d had a chance to play seeker. Another facepalm moment.

The episode had started in the Interview Room with Harry telling Lee how important it was that he and his spouse be able to share interests and do things together, because Harry built connection in shared activity.

Of course Harry had that connection with Marcus.

The producers sent them to a dance class, to “see if the romance up in the air was as palpable down on the ground.” Between the two of them there appeared to be four left feet, but the instructor was patient and both men clearly enjoyed being in each other’s arms, even if they stepped on each others’ toes.

Rene and Harry had gone to a wine tasting class, to “see if they could build a connection outside the classroom.” Roshni got a tandem kayak trip, to “give the great outdoors a chance.” Apparently she and Harry had bonded over being workaholics, and this whole being on a dating show adventure was a chance for her to put herself and her priorities first by winning Harry as a husband.

These romantic scenes were interspersed with the other contestants sometimes literally biting their nails nervously back at the castle, along with group conversations about how worried they were that Harry didn’t want to spend time with them. There was a whole subplot of Susan and Jessie crying over it and Everett trying to reassure them.

There was a lot of time spent on everyone getting ready for their presentations. Draco wasn’t the only one who felt like they didn’t get any time with Harry that week, and the desperation to stand out was thick in the air. They gave Otis a fair amount of screen time to explain why he thought rehashing his potion master dissertation was a good idea. Knowing how it all turned out, it felt like foreshadowing. Draco was seen throwing out idea after idea and generally looking despondent. At one point he said to the camera, “I don’t want to be forgettable.” On the bright side, it sounded earnest instead of pathetic.

Watching all of their performances pared down into clips was jarring. Draco’s was a perfect blend of cringey humor that made it one of the longest presentations in the episode. They kept in the first text-based visual gag, and Dracos’ joke about pureblood inbreeding (you’re allowed to make it, Pansy had said, because you’re as pureblood as it gets). They kept Draco’s demonstration of casting technique. They included the photo of Draco drooling in his sleep, and lingered on the blush across his cheeks afterwards. Roshni at the end said, “Did you know Draco was funny?” and Everett sounded cross when he shared, “Not all pureblood families are related to each other, that’s a gross stereotype.”

Their Interview Room reveal was between Harry and Marcus, when Harry put down the cards and point blank asked Marcus if he’d let Harry catch the snitch. Marcus had looked flustered, and vehemently insisted that Harry had won fair and square.

The entire lead up to the Rose Ceremony was focused on Harry and Marcus until the shock of the night was that Harry didn’t choose Marcus first.

Monday

10:00 AM: Pool party.

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

Thank Merlin he arrived early because the big scary lady blocked his way out onto the patio. “What are you wearing?”

Draco tried to project the confidence he once had, before the world beat it out of him. “A swimsuit.” It was a swimsuit. It just covered his chest and arms and went down over most of his thighs.

“That is not a swimsuit.” The woman said. She pointed at Maurice strolling by in the smallest patch of fabric Draco had ever seen attempt to hide male anatomy. “That is a swimsuit.”

“That is public indecency,” Draco may have squeaked.

The woman crossed her arms. “If it’s good enough for the censors, it’s good enough for you.”

Draco actually cowered under her glare. He wanted Lee to come by in flamboyant pink board shorts and save him from her terror. No such luck.

“The contract specifically said you wouldn’t require nudity,” Draco tried instead.

She barked out some noise that was mostly anger. “No one said nothing about nudity.”

“Glad to hear it. Then I’ll just be going in as is, won’t I?” He crossed his arms and stuck out his chin just like in the good old days.

“Which one of them buggers is your PA. Pansy, was it? PANSY!” She hollered loud enough Draco had to cover his ears, but Pansy came running.

“Yes Rae what can I do for you?” Never in his life had Draco seen Pansy this eager to please, and she’d once tried to give Draco a handjob back when they both thought they were straight and Pansy wanted to marry him.

“Talk your bird into putting on something appropriate for the scene.”

Pansy turned to Draco and treacherously asked, “What are you wearing?”

“It’s a swimsuit!” Draco demanded.

“For what, 10,000 leagues under the black lagoon?”

“You’re such a cow,” Draco grumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest petulantly. “I think it’s for surfing or something.”

“Surfing?” Rae asked. “Have you once in your life been surfing?”

Draco relished this answer, “Yes!”

“Yes?” Pansy didn’t sound like she believed it.

“I was very rich and very spoiled!” Draco shouted, just in time for Sol and Jessie to pass by and give him unimpressed looks. Draco glared at Pansy as if it were her fault this was happening to him.

“You know what, I have a solution,” she was talking to Rae, not to Draco. “Imagine if all of this was just… tighter.”

Draco actually lowered his hands to cover his nether region. “No, that won’t do at all.” Only Rae was nodding at Pansy and Pansy positively gleamed from her approval. “Pansy,” Draco whinged. But she had her wand out already and was eyeing Draco in way that told him he’d already lost.

-

He definitely lost. He’d talked Pansy down from making the fabric around his groin so tight you’d have no need for imagination, but the compromise had been cutting fabric off for his entire legs, leaving just briefs behind. “Don’t be a baby,” Pansy had scolded when he complained about modesty. “It still covers the mark.” She knew him well enough to know that’s all this had been about in the first place.

And now he was lined up beside nine of the most attractive people he’d ever met putting himself on display. For Harry.

And Harry… Had Draco ever seen so much of Harry’s skin in real life? His tan covered every inch of his muscled body, and someone somewhere had been responsible for putting something all over his skin that made it shine in the sunlight. He looked lickable.

Draco had never felt self conscious about his looks. He was conventionally attractive, with high cheekbones and steel grey eyes. He kept active day to day, and had the sort of sculpted body that comes from hard work. It lacked Maruice’s v cut, or Marcus’s well toned quidditch frame, but Draco was easy on the eyes.

Here, on display, he wasn’t sure he stood out. At least not for anything other than his abnormal fashion choices. It was also a bit more than a little objectifying to hear Lee talk about how the contestants were spicing it up this week to see who could bring the heat and light up a spark with Harry Potter. Whatever censors MAGE TV had to work around clearly did not get in the way of Lee’s fifty puns. He was a walking eggplant emoji (which Pansy had taught him about ages ago when she embraced a cellular phone).

“But let’s not forget, true attraction starts with what’s on the inside.” Draco could only hope that was the case because he didn’t know how he’d ever compete physically with the other contestants. “Only one of you will be able to get hot and heavy in the hottub with our boy wonder, and that honor will go to whoever wins today’s game.”

Wait, what? One-on-one hot tub with Harry? Draco could feel the blush heat his face, and his pulse speed up at the thought that maybe he’d have a chance to stand out, afterall. He just had to do everything he could to win!

Everyone was instructed to get up on a two-part platform high above the pool. Lee would read a question, and everyone would have to choose the answer that best fit them. If their response was the same as Harry’s, they’d stay in the game. Everyone else would be dunked into the water.

“And remember,” Lee said, “this is your chance to show Harry who you truly are.”

Draco could feel his heart beating under his skin. Was there any chance at all who he truly was would be what Harry wanted? He wanted desperately for it to be true. It might be his final chance ever to make a good impression.

There was no time to stress. Lee was already rubbing his hands together gleefully while sporting a wicked grin. “Would you rather: have a cozy night in, or an energetic night out?”

For a moment no one moved, then the answers lit up behind either side of the platform and everyone jumped to one side or the other. A moment later “cozy night in” flashed green to show it was the correct answer. With no further warning, the second platform disappeared and Maurice, Sol, and Everett all fell into the pool.

It was so alarming to watch that Draco almost didn’t see how Marcus standing next to him was glowing red. He blinked and looked around further. Jessie and Susan both glowed red, too.

“Remember,” called Lee, “this is your chance to show your true self to Harry.”

Jessie looked around at her fellow glowing contestants and then went ahead and asked. “We don’t have to jump down, too, do we?”

Lee shook his head. “Lies aren’t an automatic loss. Only those on the platform with the answer that doesn’t match Harry’s have to drop into the pool.”

You could practically see the wheels turning in everyone’s head when they realized… they could just lie, if that’s what it took to win. If they thought their answer would be different than Harry, but they really wanted to be one-on-one in the hot tub. Only Harry would know.

For some reason it was Silas who locked eyes with Draco. They looked nervous.

“Next question! Would you rather: be able to turn into a panther, or be able to turn into a falcon?”

Draco had no idea what Harry’s answer was, so it was an easy choice to jump over to the other platform that had reappeared. Thankfully that one turned green as well, and those on it got to hear Rene laughing while Susan wailed as they both fell down into the water.

“Would you rather: do the yardwork or clean the toilet?”

This was a thinker and Lee gave everyone a chance to come to a conclusion. Draco had to jump over to the other side again. Yardwork, probably. After all, he did it all the time. Jessie, Roshni and Silas came with him. Marcus clearly thought about it, but it looked like he eyed the odds of having four people on the other platform and decided to see if he could luck out and win it.

Marcus flashed red before he fell, leading Lee to remark, “He wasn’t true to himself, and had nothing to show for it.”

Red to Draco’s left caught his attention, and he saw Jessie and Silas were both lit up, too. Jessie looked gleeful, but Silas was staring at their feet as if ashamed.

“Would you rather: be the big spoon or the little spoon?”

That had Jessie giggling. Draco glanced at both answers above the platforms and tried to think about where he fell. He kept one foot on either side to buy him time. He hadn’t actually… not that he was a… he just only ever was intimate in the muggle clubs Pansy used to drag him to before she decided she didn’t like being that close to other people. He’d never actually… cuddled.

He did like it, though, when Silas had held him. He’d always liked it in those rare moments his parents shared affection. The thought of big, strong arms wrapped around him was… nice. Did Harry find it nice?

If he did and Draco jumped over to the little spoon side then there answers would match but their preferences would clash. Draco could hardly imagine ever having the chance to lay down together with Harry, except... He absolutely could. Harry was broad and strong and looked so solid it would feel amazing to press up against his body. Draco wanted him to be the big spoon so bad he thought it must be true. What foolish reasoning, based solely on hope.

If it were true, Draco would need to stand on that side. Only, he’d be called out for lying. He glanced at Harry, who always looked uncomfortable watching people play games over him and today was no different. He had a little frown line between his brows as he watched Draco stand indecisively. Draco suddenly imagined what Harry’s frown would look like if he caught Draco lying just to win a game.

“Pick a side, Draco!” Lee yelled at him.

“Sorry!” Draco yelped. “I was just thinking…” he blushed rather than say it. That had Lee grinning at him and Draco suddenly worried if he didn’t finish the thought they’d edit something lude over his nerves. He licked his lips and tried to recall his confidence earlier when he refused to make himself uncomfortable with a change of clothes. He didn’t feel confident at all. “I was just thinking,” he said through his fear, “I hope I lose this one. Because then Harry and I would be the perfect fit.” Then he stepped over to the little spoon.

A second later he was plummeting into water.

Wednesday

Draco reminded himself this could be his last chance to make an impression on Harry when he cast a spell to do a perfect knot in his dress robe tie. Draco tried not to worry that Harry could find dress robes stuffy and old fashioned. Draco didn’t have a proper muggle tuxedo, and at least the royal blue dress robes brightened his eyes.

Harry was wearing a muggle tuxedo. Unlike that first night on the show, he looked comfortable in this one. Perhaps it was what he wore to all the fancy events he attended. He looked good in it. Sophisticated. He’d even managed to comb his hair down to something ruggedly charming and presentable.

Draco only wished Harry’d dressed that way just for him.

Harry led all five of his dates out the grand castle doors and to a long, black muggle vehicle. Inside wasn’t what Draco expected. It felt more like a compact lounge with plush chairs and refreshments. Once the vehicle started to move, Harry pulled out a bottle of champagne and toasted to everyone with lines someone else had certainly written. Draco accepted a glass of bubbly, passed down to him because he was once again the furthest away from Harry.

The ride wasn’t long, but every time Draco looked back at Harry Jessie had squeezed herself further into Harry’s personal space. Harry made a point of switching seats at the restaurant when Jessie tried to sit next to him again.

Harry still didn't sit next to Draco, and shouting to be heard across five people and a table wasn’t the romantic candle light dinner Draco had hoped for. There was absolutely no spark to be found. He didn’t fight it when Harry stopped talking to him all together.

This might be the last chance Draco got. Another week was passing and Harry still hadn’t talked to him. His fear caught in his throat, made it hard to speak. He felt like one of the cameras, watching Harry discover true love. Only not with him. This is what it would be like next week, once Harry sent him home.

Draco didn’t leave with the other contestants when he was instructed to. He got up and walked around the table as if he was going to, but he paused where Harry was still sitting for some television purpose. He stayed there until Harry noticed him and looked up, until the PAs noticed him and almost stepped in to make him leave.

“Can I walk you out?” Draco asked before anyone could get to him. Forward in a way the contestants were told not to be. Rae’s first rule was follow the schedule, and Draco was diverting from it.

Harry was frowning at Draco the way he always seemed to. The way he didn’t with anybody else.

“We need you for more shots-” a PA was saying to Harry.

Harry found a more exasperated frown for the production. He pushed his chair back and stood up. “A walk sounds good.” Harry took hold of Draco by the arm and practically pulled him towards the exit. His fingers felt warm and solid. It was almost like he’d taken Draco’s arm. As if they were actually dating.

Draco shook his head out of the fantasy and immediately slowed his stroll. He wouldn’t have Harry actually drag him to the car. He wanted… he wanted…

Harry was forced to slow down from his determined escape from filming. He glowered at Draco when he did so, as if his surliness might make Draco speed back up so all of this would be over sooner.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Draco asked, because it looked like Harry did. And also, Draco wanted… “We could go on a walk for real.” It felt so exceptionally bold to suggest it. Only… “We’re good at walking.”

Harry blinked and it was like his face shifted. They were outside now, almost to the limousine, but Harry was looking to their right and to their left as if maybe there was actually somewhere else to go. Draco could see the moment Harry decided not to. “We’d be behind schedule,” Harry lamented.

“Ah,” Draco said, trying to hide his disappointment. He tried to offer a plucky smile. “Rae would murder us if we fell behind schedule.”

Harry blinked again, and then he looked at Draco. Actually looked at him. Actually saw that it was Draco who was standing there, in his best robes, with his hair styled with potions and with his best attempt to use the eyeshadow technique Jessie had taught everyone the week before. He looked quite perplexed. “Right,” he said softly. “She definitely would.”

Draco dropped his gaze to his shoes so he wouldn’t have to decipher Harry’s stare. Clearly Harry was tired. It must be a grueling schedule, and it seemed no one could get enough of him. Draco understood, really he did, because he knew he would never get enough of Harry. Not with how he’d be sent home in two days and Harry would never think of him again. Well, maybe Draco could make sure he was remembered fondly. Maybe he could at least try. “It’s fine. It’s a short ride back. Why don’t you just sit in that one corner spot, and I’ll sit next to you, then no one else will be able to get to close and it will be over before you know it,” Draco offered.

“You want to sit next to me?” Harry questioned.

Draco was immediately defensive. “Not if you don’t want me to. I don’t mean anything by it. I just thought, with how Jessie was acting, and everyone else, maybe you’d want some space.” The following pause went on long enough that Draco was concerned he might have to take the Knight Bus back to the castle.

Then Harry broke it. “Yeah, okay.” Draco looked up and wondered what Harry’s expression could possibly mean. There was no scorn or frown wrinkles or anything.

In the limo, Harry made people move aside so he could sit down and Draco could sit next to him. Draco pointedly asked Jessie to move even further. She pouted, but she made the space so Draco wasn’t forced to scrunch up against Harry. The moment the car began driving people tried to weasel their way into Harry’s personal space. Draco did everything he could think of to blockade and distract. He kept asking anyone who got close to do something - find how to turn the music on, find another champagne bottle, pour the drinks, sing karaoke, tell everyone about that time that thing happened.

Sometimes he would glance at Harry himself, and Harry would be staring back, expression completely unreadable.

Thursday

Draco had never before in his life heard of hot yoga and could go the rest of his days without doing it again. If Lee was right and that’s what it took to look sexy, Draco was well and truly fucked.

Friday

2:00 PM: Meet Harry in the Drawing Room.

This was it. Possibly the last chance to make a good impression.

At the start, four episodes had sounded like a dream. The stipend was modest, but more than the nothing he brought in at home. And Pansy had promised that Wix Ever After would help all of their contestants get paid interviews with different news outlets (or at least the gossip rags). It was promotion for the show, after all. And it was the money that Draco needed.

Plus, Harry would be there looking for love.

Draco bit at his lip as he buttoned up his third choice in shirt. It shouldn’t matter so much to him what he chose to wear this afternoon. He’d known from the start he had no chance to win this.

Draco looked hard in the mirror at his own grey eyes. Blast it, he wished he didn’t still look hopeful.

The drawing room had been rearranged with chairs and sofas being lined up in an arch. They all faced Lee, and a very nervous looking Harry. He looked even more uncomfortable than usual, and Draco worried someone had done something wrong.

“Love birds, this week we’ve sent the heat through the roof to help our Prince Charming discover which of you wonderful suitors should be taken out of the friend zone and become his happily ever after. There’s just one final test to see who can bring the sizzle.” Pause for dramatic suspense as everyone, Draco included, waited with baited breath for what the test might be. Lee grinned mischievously. “Harry, if you’d please?” Harry sighed like he really didn’t want to do what Lee was asking, which would probably be edited right out. The cameras did catch him turning his back to Lee so that Lee could pull out a pink cloth and secure it tightly around his face, blind folding him. Lee then used Harry’s shoulders to navigate Harry to center stage so everyone would have a view of what was about to happen.

“Pull out your lip balms! It’s time to lock lips with none other than Harry Potter.” Pause for actual gasps. “And in the end, Harry will choose which wix’s kiss was the best of all.”

That nearly caused pandemonium. Too many people were talking at once, either whispering to each other or shouting out questions to Lee as host.

Draco stayed perfectly silent and perfectly still. He couldn’t believe it. He’d been fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss Harry since he was a teenager. He’d had dreams of Harry flying his broom through Draco’s bedroom window and declaring that he’d loved Draco all along, and that Draco should come with him to fight against the Dark Lord and be Harry’s boyfriend or something. It had been a very juvenile fantasy.

Not that he still didn’t think it some time. All the time. He didn’t subscribe to Witch Weekly, but he did catch himself staring when he walked by magazine covers featuring Harry Potter. He’d broken down and bought a copy the first time Harry had been named most eligible bachelor, because he still harbored a dream that maybe he’d stumble across Harry’s path again, and Harry would realize they were meant to be together all along.

Draco thought about Harry in that bathing suit. He thought about Harry in the tuxedo. He thought about Harry rolling out on the couch in a ratty jumper at the end of a long day, smiling up at Draco because he’d chosen Draco to be his forever partner.

Harry licked his lips and Draco could tear his eyes away from the wet saliva left behind.

Draco’s palms were sweaty. He wasn’t going to get happily ever after, but at least he’d have this.

Lee put ten numbers in a pointy hat then walked it around the room so everyone could draw. Draco unrolled the tiny scroll, his heart hammering.

Ten. He’d have to wait until the very end. Harry would be comparing him to absolutely every other contestant and it would be obvious Draco was less experienced than the rest.

It would be fine. Draco would still have that one kiss. He’d still know what it felt like to touch Harry and brush their lips together as if they really were lovers. He’d know what that felt like for the rest of his days. It was torture to sit still and wait his turn.

Draco wasn’t actually a prude or anything, not like his parents, but he also hadn’t spent much time watching other people lock lips. At least not since Daphne and Theo tried to be madly in love and wouldn’t stop making out in the Slytherin common room. Watching these people was… different. Sadly, none of them had his school friends’ challenge of doing far too much too poorly with their tongues. Draco thought Harry rather seemed to like what everyone was doing.

Sol’s approach was gentle, starting with soft touches and barely parted lips that eased Harry into reciprocation until both their mouths were open and it was nipping Sol’s lips.

Rene was tentative and sweet. She wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him down to her lips, her hand guiding him and stroking him lovingly.

Maurice was bold. He started with a flick of tongue over Harry’s lower lip, and when Harry’s mouth parted in surprise Maurice was there to taste him.

Jessie was a mess. She clung to Harry and used far too much tongue while making sure he could feel her chest pressed up against him.

Silas was deliberate. They brushed their fingers into Harry’s hair and gripped it when they were ready to take the gentle kisses up a notch. They did not rush, but managed to systematically break Harry apart until he was panting, then Silas left him wanting more.

It was all so fucking hot, to see the man of his fantasies actually engage in carnal pleasure. And so fucking revolting.

Draco hadn’t stopped to think what it would be like to see so many people kiss the man of his dreams, and to see that man open himself up to their kisses. This wasn’t like any of Draco’s fantasies. Not once had he ever imagined Harry treating him so impersonal.

Draco watched Harry accept kiss after kiss and realized how fucking interchangeable everyone was. Their identities didn’t matter. It was… off putting.

The idea of a first kiss with Harry had sounded appealing in concept, but Draco couldn’t actually imagine what it would be like to kiss him like this, like Draco didn’t even matter. Then Draco would be sent home. One uncomfortable, distant kiss with Harry would be all that he ever had.

It wasn’t worth it. The money, the exposure, none of it was worth it.

“Ten,” Lee finally called out Draco’s number.

Draco didn’t even look at him when he shook his head.

The following pause was far too long. “Ten,” Lee said again, more sternly.

Draco could feel his hands shaking when he got to his feet. He built up the courage to meet Lee’s eyes, and saw a warning in them. Draco shook his head anyway.

“Ten.” It sounded like a threat. Lee was making it clear Draco was ruining the scene.

What the hell, it wasn’t like he hadn’t reached the end of the line anyway.

Draco walked out of the room.

-

Pansy shoved Draco into the confessional so hard it hurt. “Fucking sit down, shut up, and say something good enough that I’m not fired come morning.”

“Which is it, shut up or say the lines?” Draco grumbled, but he got on the chair.

Pansy snapped harsher than ever and the red blinking lights of the cameras turned on. “What. The. Fuck.” was her opening question.

Draco tilted his head back so he could look up at the ceiling. “It’s all gone tits up, hasn’t it.”

“My career, or your emotional maturity?”

Draco made himself sit back up straight and wave her off. “Fine, fine.” He muttered. He took a deep breath and made himself look at the camera. He didn’t want to talk about it, but this is what he’d signed up for. It’s what he promised Pansy.

“It was very uncomfortable to watch the man I want to marry kiss all those other people.” Draco said it forcefully because he worried he’d chicken out otherwise. He owed Pansy enough that he had to give her something, even if that something was embarrassing. “Harry really seemed to enjoy kissing so many people. The idea of having our first kiss be something interchangeable with everyone else, something he wouldn’t value or remember, made me feel sick.”

He didn’t look at Pansy so he wouldn’t have to see what she thought of him right now.

“What would an ideal first kiss be?” She finally asked.

It wasn’t what Draco was expecting. He had to blink and look away from the camera for a moment. He’d imagined it any number of ways, and of course when he spoke next he sounded wistful. “I wanted our first to be something special. I guess I hoped we would run into each other one day, randomly somewhere he didn’t usually go, and he’d decide to ask me out maybe for tea, and then maybe for dinner, and at some point it would just be the most natural thing in the world for us to be kissing.” He knew he wasn’t talking about being here at the castle, and any facade that he hadn’t been here for Harry from the beginning was being tossed out the window.

“Which kiss made you feel most uncomfortable?”

Draco actually shivered in discomfort thinking about it. “I hate how Jessie touches him,” he said. This was going to make it into the episode, he was sure, but that’s what Pansy was asking him for. “She wouldn’t stop touching him in the limo, and today it was like she was grabbing at him when he didn’t want it.”

“How would you feel if he chose her to stay instead of you.”

Draco had to blink back tears. Maybe that had been Pansy’s goal the whole time. “She’d never make him happy.” Draco said, his voice cracking. He might not actually know Harry, but he believed that with all his heart.

“What would you tell Harry, if given the chance?”

Draco couldn’t go there. He couldn’t. He brushed tears away from his eyes and began to shake his head. He was done. This was going to have to be enough.

Saturday

Harry was tapping the note cards against his leg when Draco walked in. Draco could feel Harry’s eyes tracking him all the way to his seat but he was too embarrassed to look up.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The cards were the only ones talking.

They were given very clear instructions that the Interview Room was a space for Harry to lead the conversation. Draco was terrified Harry was going to silently let the time run out and never think of Draco again. Draco would hardly be a blip in his life. Some lesser villain from his childhood, followed by a failure to use the three weeks he’d bought himself to make any impression at all.

What was it Draco had said? He thought they could fall in love, if Harry just gave him a chance?

Harry was never going to give him a chance. What had possessed him to hope it was ever possible he might?

“You didn’t participate in the kissing contest.” Harry’s words were shocking in the silence. Draco wrapped his arms around himself protectively, as if it had been an accusation he needed to hide from. “There were a lot of people who wanted to be on this show. Did you really have to take a spot from someone who’d take it seriously?”

“I’ve taken it seriously,” Draco said because he was pathetic enough to need to defend himself.

Harry actually scoffed. “I’m actually here to find a connection. At the end of this, I’m going to get married. Don’t I deserve to have all the contestants sign up in good faith? Did you really have to try to take this from me?”

Harry sounded actually pained. It squeezed something in Draco’s chest to know he’d caused it. “I’m here in good faith. Please, Harry. I’m not trying to take anything from you. You could,” Draco gulped. “You could marry me.” Merlin and Morgana he said it.

Harry laughed like it was the least funny thing he’d ever heard. “Marry you?” The squeezing sensation was now ice cold and it pooled in Draco’s stomach. Draco turned bright red and couldn’t look away from his hands clasped in his lap.

Gods, Pansy was going to see this. She was going to see him making an ass of himself. Maybe the whole world would see it.

“You don’t want to marry me,” Harry snarled. “You don’t even want to kiss me.”

Something in Draco broke. “You wouldn’t even have known it was me!” Oh Merlin he was shouting.

Harry looked taken aback. “The reveal at the end-”

Draco cut him off even though it was against the rules. “It’s the during part I was concerned with,” Draco snapped. “I would have been kissing you, and if you liked it and responded I would know that the things you did to me… you’d do them for anybody. You wouldn’t care that it was my lips, my body. And I know lots of people are okay with that, which is f-fine,” Draco did not actually sound like it was fine, “but I’m not. I want you to kiss me because you want to kiss me. I want you to know you’re kissing me. I want you to remember it and cherish it and think of it as the first kiss with the person you’re one day going to marry, because I am taking this seriously. I want to marry you. You’re the one not giving me a chance!”

Harry was wide eyed at Draco having the nerve to yell at him. Probably a foolish mistake, which would leave Draco forever known as the man who exploded at Harry over a failed kiss before being sent home.

Draco didn’t care. He thought he had cared what he looked like on camera, but he’d been lying to himself because what he actually cared about was not wasting his last actual chance with Harry Potter.

Typical Harry furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “Are you saying you want to kiss me?”

Draco might have groaned in frustration but he heard the uncertainty in Harry’s words. He found he was incredibly sincere in his answer. “Harry, of course I want to kiss you. But not… for some game. Not if it just… doesn’t matter. To you.” He hadn’t meant to be so vulnerable. It was agonizing to know how complete Harry’s rejection would be when the time came.

“Then kiss me.”

Draco looked up. Harry’s jaw was set in a stubborn line and he was staring hard as if Draco was a mystery to unravel.

“What?”

“Kiss me.” Harry said again, no question in his tone.

Draco licked his lips. His fingers twitched on top of his thighs. “Now?”

Harry nodded, a sharp jerky move that betrayed the slightest bit of nerves. That small vulnerability made Draco feel like maybe could do it.

Draco got to his feet. Harry hesitated a moment, then stood up, too, so the two men were nearly even. Draco looked at the space between them. A gulch. A chasm. A universe.

It took only one step to close the distance. To be standing so close to Harry that he could feel the warmth of breath against his skin. They were nearly the same height. It meant their eyes were near level. Harry’s eyes were brilliant, green, mesmerizing orbs and Draco couldn’t imagine ever choosing to look at anything else.

Draco remembered how other suitors had touched Harry and he wanted to know how that felt. He lifted his hand slowly, as if Harry would push them away. Only he didn’t. Draco was able to raise them all the way to Harry’s face and brush his fingers over Harry’s cheeks. He wrapped his hands around the back of his neck, his thumbs brushing Harry’s ears. His hair was fuzzy. Draco could touch the soft fuzz of hair on Harry’s neck for the rest of his life.

He wanted to see everything, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from fluttering closed as he leaned in and brushed his lips over Harry’s. The tingle of sensation pulled a moan from him, and it was Harry who chased the noise, opening his mouth slightly to offer his own kiss. The first flick of tongues came with Draco’s entire body flushed against Harry. Draco’s hands were now in Harry’s hair. It felt as amazing as he’d always thought it would. Then there was a gentle pressure on Draco’s hips. Harry’s hands were on him, holding him. The tip of Harry’s thumb rubbing Draco’s lower back. Draco groaned and let go completely, twisting his tongue into Harry’s mouth in search of all the sensations he’d ever dreamed were possible.

Harry let him. He opened up completely. Draco lost himself in the taste and feel of the man of his dreams.

Draco made a pitiful noise when Harry broke off the kiss. He almost followed when Harry pulled back and away, before coming to his senses. Draco was already red but he might have managed an even deeper blush. His saving grace was Harry looked equally wrecked, with his eyes blown wide and kiss bruised lips.

Draco would remember how Harry looked just now for the rest of his life. He’d remember how Harry stared at him, like Draco was worth something. Like he wanted him.

“Thank you, Harry,” Draco breathed. Harry blinked himself to alertness and frowned at Draco’s comment. Draco needed to say more. He needed to say everything. “I-”

“Times up.” Harry’s words were sharp, cutting into Draco. Reminding him none of this was real.

-

There were many tricks to occlumency. In his youth, Draco had closed off his compassion and let a jaded heart block out his feelings from prying eyes. These days he practiced something different. He didn’t need to be hateful and cruel. He’d learned to be nothing. An empty shell of a person who could take anything with a charming, affable smile. Which was how Draco floated through the Rose Ceremony, trying to mentally be anywhere but there.

He couldn’t remember the feel of Harry’s thumbs rubbing gentle circles into his skin when Harry gave Sol the first rose. He didn’t process Harry’s words when he told Sol he’d definitely felt the spark, that he looked forward to one-on-one time soon.

He didn’t think about how tremendously soft Harry’s hair was when Rene came second. It went in one ear and out the other when Harry told her that her inner beauty lit up everything on the outside, the spark was definitely there.

There wasn’t even satisfaction to see Harry offer a rose to Silas third, pulling them back up from the bottom and assuring them that he liked them exactly for who they were, that he hoped they’d feel confident enough to be their authentic self in the competition. Draco hated to think of who should win Harry if not him, but Silas had always been kind.

Draco didn’t twist his hands or fidget at all. He didn’t remember the soft feel of Harry’s lips, or the wet pleasure of Harry's tongue. He blocked out all of it. He made himself empty.

That was the only way he could stand there and take it when he was forced to step from the far corner of the stage (where the producers always thought he belonged) to stand in the middle with Jessie. The final two. It was always going to be this way. Draco, thinking he could be perfect for Harry, watching Harry choose someone so ill suited for him instead. Just in case it wasn’t one thousand percent clear to Draco that he had never stood a chance at all.

Jessie’s eyes were puffy, her lip trembling. She was going to be so dramatic when Harry called her. Draco would have to see her run up in her wobbly heels and wrap Harry up in a hug. Draco would need to keep his mind completely blank. The cameras would be watching, and while he’d offered the cameras his hope, he couldn’t bear to give them his despair.

It wasn’t as hard, this time, waiting for Harry to say something. Draco kept his mind a blank slate. As calm and blue and beautiful as the lake Harry and he had wandered round merely days before. He tried very hard not to remember what it felt like, to bump shoulders. How warm it had been to stand near another person. How cold it would be in the manor, all by himself.

There was no uncertainty in Harry’s face. No second guessing. He’d come with his mind made up.

Draco had been staring calmly at Harry, facing his fate head on, but he had to close his eyes. He couldn’t stare at this man and not remember how Harry had asked him for a kiss. How he hadn’t stopped to ask why Harry would want that. Now he’d never have another chance.

“Draco, will you take this rose?”