Chapter 11
The month that followed Draco’s outing to the opera was one he often looked back upon with fondness. Harry, an enthusiastic and skilled lover, was found by Draco to be even more enthusiastic in every other way in which he lived. He would often ramble excitedly about the latest in Wizarding technology and screamed his way through more than one Chudley Cannons game he dragged Draco to. Days were filled with random appearances at Draco’s shop with his favorite sweets and evenings were spent over spicy bowls of food and long walks around London’s foggy streets.
A Friday evening after Draco had closed up shop and Apparated to Harry’s house, they were tangled on Harry’s couch watching TV. Padfoot snored softly, curled in the crook of Harry’s arm and Draco absentmindedly ran his fingers along the animal’s head.
“So,” said Draco, drawing Harry’s attention away from the Muggle sports game, “what time are you picking me up tomorrow for Ginny and Luna’s wedding?”
Harry, uncharacteristically, stiffened.
“I, er, did you get an invitation?”
“No, I just assumed I’d be your plus-one,” said Draco, surprised.
“They aren’t doing plus-ones for their wedding,” said Harry, staring at a burr stuck in Padfoot’s ear.
Draco looked at him, confused. Realization, bitter, but somehow expected, dawned on him–
“You didn’t tell them.”
Harry continued to stare resolutely at Padfoot’s ear.
“Harry.”
“We–they were just about to get married, I didn’t want–”
Draco stood up suddenly, brushing off their blanket and startling awake Padfoot.
“No, I get it,” he said softly. “You didn’t want the news of you dating me to overshadow their wedding.”
Harry looked up.
“I’m sorry, Draco, but y–”
“Right, because they would have to call off the wedding the second they heard–Crown Prince Harry James Potter, saviour of the fucking world, dating former Death Eater and all-around morally filthy, posh, aloof, Draco Malfoy–”
“That’s not it, Draco, I swear–” Harry pleaded, getting up as well, grabbing Draco’s arms with his hands.
“No, it’s fine,” said Draco, jerking away. “I’m glad you finally said how you feel.”
And, with one last look at Harry’s lovely blue living room and Padfoot, now heading over to his food bowl, Draco twisted on the spot and Apparated. Harry’s last call of “Draco!” echoed in his ears.
The next day Draco spent holed up in his apartment baking himself comfort sweets and reading Harry’s awful People magazines. Around midday, he heard a sharp knock on the door.
“Go away,” he called. “I’m wasting away.”
“Now, we can’t have that, my darling,” said a voice from the kitchen.
Taking off her stilettos as she came in, Pansy peered in at Draco lounging sadly on the couch. She was holding an incredibly large bouquet of vermilion nasturtiums and a light blue envelope that said “Draco” in scrawled, straight letters. Draco was wrapped in a green knit blanket that proudly said Slytherin in big, silver letters and surrounded by lime green Potter Stinks badges that feebly blinked up at her.
“Oh, love, what did he do to you?”
Draco almost burst into tears. He gestured helplessly to his Potter Stinks badges.
“Well, he seems very sorry, seeing that he’s left this on your doorstep, along with four citrus tarts and a creme pie.”
Draco hated how well Harry knew him.
“Maybe at least read the letter? So you know what he said while you’re throwing it in the fire?” Pansy suggested.
Draco did think that was a good idea.
Draco
You were right. I should have told Gin and the others right after that night on my birthday. For a Gryffindor, I’m really not that brave. I think I spent nearly these two months waiting for you to figure that out. Now you know my deepest secret–I’m a coward. I can’t even begin to hope you’ll forgive me. Maybe that changes how you see me completely. Either way, this letter isn’t to plead for you to accept my apology (though I will plead if necessary). I’ve told Gin and Luna everything about us and this letter is to let you know you are officially invited to the wedding tonight. I’ve enclosed an official invitation from them. They would be incredibly happy if you came. Seriously.
I hope to see you there, at least as a friend. They both mean a lot to me and I would be honored if I could share their happiness with you.
Lastly, if I might just remind you of one thing–how far we’ve already come from the fighting, prepubescent boys that we were when we met. To come to the point that we already have has required a lot of luck, hormones, and maturing on both sides. We’ve both managed to overcome almost a decade of prejudice, hatred and schoolboy scorn, and I think that’s fucking awesome. I guess this is my way of saying that if I could go back in time to that day when you offered your hand to shake on the first day of school, I would tell my younger self that the boy in front of him would grow up to be the most intelligent, charming and caring man I’ve ever had the honour of loving.
I hope to see you tonight. Wear something nice.
Harry
“Bullocks,” said Draco, smearing his hand across his eyes.
“Do I need to hurt anyone?” she asked, rubbing her hand on Draco’s back. He let out a watery laugh.
“No, but thank you, Pans.”
“Pleasure.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” said Draco, shrugging off the blanket and wiping his eyes again, “but I need your help figuring out what to wear tonight.”
The wedding was nice. Draco had to admit it. Enchanted gold vines twisted their way up gleaming gold canopies and around comfy gold chairs. The brides’ guests, ranging from a seemingly endless supply of redhead family members to foreign, spiritual witches sporting odd contraptions and confusing vocabulary, were all decked out in glimmering greens and maroons and silvers. The brides themselves wore complimentary silk wedding robes, the gold flecks and beads in Luna’s hair matching beautifully to the golden rings that ran up Ginny’s ears and shone from her nose.
Draco had snuck in at the last minute and was sitting in the back row, fidgeting. Harry stood up at the front of the ceremony in a black tux, his hair pulled into a neat bun at the nape of his neck. His chin was shoved up and out, and though he looked incredibly happy for his two friends, Draco saw flickers of somber when he turned his head to clap.
The ceremony itself was small and lovely, ending with a large release of golden doves by the brides and a loud whooping and hollering from the sea of redheads sitting in the front left two rows. After they moved the chairs and a small wizarding band was escorted to the stage, Draco hovered on the edge of the celebration, hands shoved in his rather plain dove-grey suit. His plan was to wait until the congratulations died down and dart in to thank the brides, before making a quick exit. He didn’t want to make a large scene.
The first song of the night began as the dusky sky began to darken. Small, golden magical bugs darted in and out of the crowds, and candles had been spelled to hover around the tent and above the crowd of people.
“This first song is for our lovers,” began the singer, plucking out a small tune on his guitar. “Weddings are an expression and a celebration of love, beautiful and mysterious and necessary. It’s the best thing in the world.”
Ginny and Luna smiled, clutching each other’s hands and making towards the dance floor. “So lovers, Ginny, Luna, everyone else, pull your lover close and hold them tight.”
A cheer went up as Ginny and Luna started to dance, and then more and more witches and wizards started piling onto the dance floor; Hermione and Ron leaving their daughter at the snack table, Seamus and Dean already cheek-to-cheek, Parvati pulling a laughing Lavender into her arms, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, beaming, their fingers entwined; and, across the crowd, Harry, his dull expression out of place and mimicking Draco’s, staring into his cup. He hadn’t seen Draco. Draco felt a lump in his throat.
“The honour of loving,” Harry had said. Love. Harry loved him.
The song started in earnest and another cheer went up, startling Harry. He glanced up from his cup and his eyes met Draco’s. Green meeting grey-blue.
Harry looked like he was going to weep. Instead, he put down his gold glass and slowly made his way to the back edge of the speckled white dance floor.
I’m sorry, he mouthed. Dance with me?
“I love you, too,” said Draco, starting to smile.
What?” mouthed Harry.
Draco shook his head as Harry held out his hand from across the room. The music played steadily on and it seemed to pull Draco in towards the floor, snagging at his suit jacket and pulling around his waist, shining gold like the flecks in Harry’s gleaming green eyes.
In full view of the maroon sky and the gold canopy tents, feeling like he was coming home, Draco stepped forward.