Harry sighed unhappily while Pansy applied some more powder on his face – so his skin wasn’t reflecting the lightning, she’d said. Just why in Merlin’s name had he agreed to this?
Luna waved enthusiastically at him from across the room and Hermione gave him a thumbs up. Right. Both women had talked him into posing for a calendar and some posters which would be sold. The earnings would be donated to various charities and creature rights projects.
Heaving another grave sigh, he padded to the camera set. At least Draco didn’t know he was here – that would have been a disaster. The blond would jump at the opportunity to dress him – at home he always tried to persuade Harry to pose for a private photoshoot and he had managed to escape somehow until now – and would insist he try on so many outfits he would be standing here for hours!
“Now, Harry, how about a little smile for the camera?”, Luna asked, taking position behind the camera. Harry grimaced and the bulb flashed.
“Maybe it’s the outfit,” Hermione suggested as the women eyed the resulting photograph critically. “Yeah, maybe we should try the–“ whatever Pansy was saying was interrupted by the tumultuous entrance of one Draco Malfoy.
Panting and red-faced, the blond rushed towards the group, shoving staff people out of his way while shouting, “Move, I need to be gay!”
Harry groaned. Then, he glared accusingly at Pansy who shrugged guiltily. “He’s my best friend, I had to tell him about the shoot!”, she exclaimed defensively.
“Alright, everyone. Back to business! What outfit should Harry wear?” Hermione’s question resulted in outraged yelling of suggestions, but Draco’s shouts were the loudest. “Everyone shut up! He’s not going to try on whatever lame shit you all said he should wear! I wanna see Potter in a maid dress! Do that!”
Harry’s horrified exclamation’s of “NOOOO!” were promptly ignored by the crowd who was flipping out in approval.
Needless to say, Harry had a very long day. He just hoped it was worth the effort to pose in a dress, a sexy Santa outfit and a muggle police officer costume he was pretty sure only strippers wore. When Draco went down on him at home, though, Harry thought dressing up and posing wasn’t so bad once in a while.
The calendar was sold out after the first hour of selling and is currently being re-printed a hundred times over. Draco bought four calendars himself – for every room he walked in.
“Why are we here, again?”, Ron asked, adjusting his fake moustache again.
“Because Hermione said a little fan contact is good for our public image and the charities we’re funding”, Harry said struggling with his fake moustache himself.
“But we have two hours before our scheduled appearance. I really don’t see the need to see this crazy convention for myself,” Ron whined, ducking as a group of squealing fans rushed past them, waving flags with the inscription “Golden Trio”.
Right behind the group was Draco, his arms up to his shoulder full of bags and fan-merch, laughing maniacally.
Ron whispered to Harry, “I think Malfoy’s gone feral.”
Harry sighed lovestruck, Draco was just so cute when he was in his fan mode. “Yeah. I can’t wait to marry him.”
“Pottah, Pottah! Over here! Can you please sign this, sir?” A fan had managed to fight his way through the crowd in front of the red carpet that led to the ministry’s ball. Sighing, Harry forced a smile on his face as he turned to the fan. Then he did a double take.
“Draco, what are you doing?”, he asked mortified as the blond held out a Chosen-One-Poster and a pen imploringly.
“I want your autograph on this. I need it, Harry, it’s important! And I don’t know when else I get the chance to do this!”
“Draco, we are married!” Harry exclaimed, utterly confused.
“Yes, but will you sign this?”, Draco whined, staring at Harry with big, pleading puppy eyes. Groaning, Harry grabbed the poster and signed it. Handing it back to his beaming husband, he snuck his arm around the blonde’s waist.
“Happy?”, he whispered into the blond hair.
Snuggling up into the broad chest of his husband, Draco looked up and kissed Harry’s chin lovingly. “I have the best husband in the entire world, of course I’m happy.”
Harry grinned soppily and was about to snog his silly husband silly when Draco suddenly perked up and escaped Harry’s arms. The blond pointed at someone in the crowd which had watched the couple rapturously, discretely oohing and aaahing. Draco asked threateningly, “You! Yeah, you in the red t-shirt! Where the fuck did you get that Harry-Plush from? That’s the limited edition of spring 2003 and was immediately sold out. They produced so few, it’s a mystery if the plush existed at all. How the fuck were you able to get it?”
Before Draco could get into a fight over the stupid plush, Harry enveloped Draco in his arms. While Draco flailed helplessly, Harry addressed the crowd, grinning apologetically, “Don’t mind my husband. He’s just an enthusiastic collector.”
The End.