Chaste

Harry bent over the little desk in his office as if bringing his eyes closer to the book in front of him would help find a solution in the ancient pages. Draco was muttering and twisting his wand absently next to him, doing his best to decipher an equally ancient text. Slamming the book shut, Harry stretched and yawned.

“It’s no good. There’s no way to undo it, I'll just marry Ron and get it over with.”

Draco snorted, and closed his tome carefully. “You can’t marry Weasley, he’s already married to Granger.”

“Well how is a necklace going to know that?” Harry demanded, running his fingers through his hair.

“Because, Potter, it is reading your magical signature. It knows you aren’t married just like it knows you’re a virgin, because sex and marriage both change how your magic interacts with everything around you. You’re only getting out of this through genuine marriage. It’s a hideous old custom that is unfortunately still used by a few of the more conservative families.”

Harry crossed his arms to stop himself throwing the book at a wall in frustration. “So, would your family make you wear one?”

Draco scoffed. “Of course not. It’s not expected for wizards to be virgins at the time of marriage, only witches.”

“Your future wife then. Would you ask her to wear one?”

Draco flushed suddenly. “Well - I - there wouldn’t - no. I wouldn’t. And I, err, couldn’t.”

“What?”

“The type of partner I’m likely to end up with isn’t going to… um… need one.”

Harry blinked. He couldn’t fathom what Draco was saying in the slightest. It sounded like he wasn’t intending to marry a witch. But he definitely intends on a partner. 

“Err." Suddenly it slotted into place. "Are you gay, Draco?” he blurted.

Draco’s flush spread all the way round the back of his ears and up to the top of his ears. “I’m. I mean. It’s not really any of your business, Potter,” Draco muttered, having suddenly become very invested in straightening the loose papers on his desk.

“No,” Harry paused, carefully keeping his eyes on his fingernails. “But it’s okay if you are, Draco. You know Charlie is? Ron’s brother who works with dragons?”

Draco made a noncommittal grunt.

“He, err. He taught me how to kiss, actually. After I broke up with Ginny he said I needed proper lessons and that Ginny kissed like a bear. Which was true, actually, compared to him.”

“The dragon Weasel is certainly more useful to you in the current circumstances than anyone already married.”

“Oh.” Harry considered briefly, but shook his head. “No… Charlie’s happy in Romania and I don’t think I could tie him down like that.”

“And why not the Weaslette?”

“Ginny. No,’ Harry gave a wry chuckle. “She isn’t interested in men, actually. Probably my fault, to be honest.”

Draco sighed and flicked a hair from his shoulder. “Potter, I cannot stress this enough: you have to marry. Marry anyone. Place an advert in Witch Weekly for all I care. Just for the love of spells, pick someone.”

“I don’t know anyone, Malfoy! Neville and Luna are together, I think. Or not. I don’t know. Hermione and Ron are married, Ginny’s gay, Dean and Seamus are together, and the only other person I ever see is you!”

Draco looked taken aback. “Well I’m not marrying you.”

Harry paused. It was common knowledge that he and Draco had hated each other in school, Draco had always bothered Harry with his poncy hair, pointy noise, and perfect alabaster skin. Now Harry had learned to tolerate him. And trust him. Working with him was more interesting than working with any of the other Aurors in their department might have been. All throughout training, Draco was the only one who really pushed him to be better, to work harder and learn to use finesse as well as power. But working together wasn't marriage... still. Harry could think of worse proposals. 

Draco was watching him calculatingly. “I suppose I could ask Pansy. She always said she’d marry for power.”

Harry shuddered. “Err. Please don’t. Pansy and I would kill each other before we made it down the aisle.”

“Well Greg isn’t available, he married Astoria Greengrass, thank Merlin, which saved me from the whole ordeal of arranged marriage.”

“You would have married a witch? Even though you’re gay?”

“Yes Potter, even homosexuals need heirs. It was my parent’s decision.”

“That’s barbaric!”

“That’s pureblood inbreeding. Astoria and I are second cousins.”

“Right.” Harry felt slightly queasy.

“Blaise?” Draco offered. “He’s good looking, and I can vouch for his performance in bed.”

“What?" Harry yelped. He didn't think he could handle any more sudden announcements relating to Draco's personal life. It had taken a year of working together before Harry even learned that Draco wasn't living in Malfoy Manor. "You and Blaise dated?”

“I hardly think a few desperate shags count as dating, Potter.” He rolled his eyes. “Do close your mouth or you’ll end up eating flies.”

“I can’t marry Blaise,” Harry blurted.

“Alas, Potter, until you actually offer a viable candidate yourself, he appears to be your only option.”

Harry squinted at Draco hopefully. “You could marry me?”

Draco froze. He turned his back to Harry, inspecting the mantlepiece as if he might find a ruby in the dust. “Absolutely not,” he replied, calmly. 

“Are you sure? I mean, we’re already partners at work, surely a little marriage wouldn’t change much? We could divorce right away.”

Draco barked a laugh and spun back to Harry, drawing closer until he was peering down at him. “You’re still not getting this, Potter. Magical marriages don’t have divorce, they’re annulled when magical signatures become incompatible. Marriage is an unalterable state.”

“Oh.”

Draco shuffled some of the loose pages he’d been reading earlier across the desk. “Not to mention you’d have to sleep with me.”

“Um, what?”

Draco sighed pointedly, again. “Honestly, Potter, do you know nothing about Wizarding relationships? A marriage ceremony involves magical binding and then must be consummated. I believe muggles share this custom?”

“Err. I don’t know. I mean, I think so.”

“So,” Draco sniffed, “I’ll ask Blaise? Will he do for our Saviour’s hand?”

Harry huffed. “I suppose he’ll have to.”

“No need to sound so enthused, Potter,” Draco drawled. 

“Will he want me though? Won’t he have plans of his own?”

“Blaise? Of course. He plans to drink and gamble away his inheritance and only intends to marry someone famous and rich enough to help him do it. You check both of those boxes, at least.”

Harry grimaced. “Fine. If he agrees, and he really means it, let's get this over with.”

“Well, we can get it started, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“With the Zabini’s heritage… I’m not as familiar with the customs usual for his African heritage, but certainly the Italian family is old blood and will expect an engagement of two years,” Draco shrugged. “We can probably negotiate them down to one, for the Saviour.”

“A year!? Malfoy, I can’t be engaged to Blaise for a year!”

“Its a courtship process, Potter. The chastity charm will demand certain elements of courtship anyway, you might as well take your time and allow your future in-laws a chance to flaunt the match publicly, as is their right.”

“Draco, I’m serious. I can’t be unable to work for a year. I can’t - I swear, I’ll go mad. And Blaise’s family will hate me if they’re fussy about customs, you know I’m shit at all that stuff.”

“Yes, I do know how you feel about ‘all that stuff’,” Draco moved back across the room and perched on the desk in front of Harry. “Unfortunately, I’m not the one who discovered the chasitity charm, or else neither of us would be having this conversation.” He looked Harry straight on. “Blaise is your best option.”

“Blaise is a terrible option,” Harry muttered into his lap. 

“He is. I’ll admit you have next to nothing in common, and I expect he’ll actively enjoy destroying whatever joy you have, it’s his mother’s influence… but it’s Blaise or it’s me.”

Harry looked at Draco carefully. He looked as if that had slid off his tongue without thought, and there was a soft blush in his cheeks. Harry stood, which closed the distance between them considerably, and brought his chest in line with Draco’s face.

“Draco, would you mind marrying me?”

Draco let out a harsh bark of laughter and kept his eyes trained on the carpet vaguely to the left of Harry’s feet. “Is that how the mighty Saviour proposes?”

“I could get on one knee, if you prefer?” Harry offered, searching what he could see of Draco’s blond head for some sign of disgust or… Harry wasn’t sure what else he might find. On the one hand, it was nauseating to imagine marrying Draco, but on the other hand, the twisting in his stomach felt sort of exciting, and there was a thudding in his chest that compelled him, probably to madness. 

Draco sighed and shook his head slightly. “I can’t really see how either of us have any alternative here.” He lifted his face and turned his silver eyes tinged with sadness toward Harry. “No one else will work with me, and no one else will marry you.”

“Is - is that a yes?”

“I suppose it must be,” Draco said softly, almost to himself. “Provided, of course that our signatures match sufficiently for the engagement to proceed.”

“Draco! Thank you!” Harry grasped Draco’s shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you!”

“Don’t get too excited, Potter. My family isn’t Italian, but we are of the Noble House of Black.” He stood, straightening his robes. “It’ll take some months, even omitting as many of the superfluous arrangements as possible to satisfy the bond and my parents.”

“Okay. That works. What do we do in the meantime? Since I apparently can’t work?”

“Well traditionally we’d announce our courtship,” Draco said wryly, “but as you’ve already asked and I’ve agreed, I suppose the announcement of our engagement is more fitting.”

“Oh. Err. Right. And how do we…”

“In lieu of your parents, Granger and Weasley can fill in as witnesses at our engagement and as your chaperones going forward.”

“Who will your chaperones be? Will you ask your parents to come back from France?”

“I don’t require chaperones, Potter, as I haven’t been so foolish as to set off a chastity belt.” Draco frowned. “We will both need to apply for desk work until this is done though.”

Harry groaned, which brought a snort from Draco. 

“That’s what bothers you? Not the part where you are being forced to marry the only single person you know, lack of attraction aside, but the part where you have to do desk work?”

“I wouldn’t say lack of attraction,” Harry blurted, immediately feeling heat flood his face. 

Draco’s eyes slid suspiciously over him. “Really, Potter? You like what you’re looking at, do you?”

“I - err. Um. You’re not unattractive, I mean.” Harry squared his shoulders. “You’re not as pretty as Blaise.”

Draco scoffed, and his face relaxed. “No one is as pretty as Blaise. He’s African Italian, for Salazar’s sake.”

“Yeah. I’d rather marry you though.”

Once again, Harry’s face burned.

“I just mean, I know you better, and um, I mean, we work together and it’s not, um, weird, or anything.”

Draco sighed. “In terms of marriage potential, Potter, yours is not the worst proposal I’ve ever had. Pansy once suggested we elope to avoid our arrangements, and I very nearly arranged a quick flight from the top of the astronomy tower.”

Harry laughed. With Malfoy’s help, this whole thing might not be a complete disaster. “So when do we do the announcement?”

“When can you get Granger and Weasley on board?”

"Err. Tonight? I normally have them over for Thai on Fridays anyway. You could come too and we can do it then?"

Draco gave a curt nod. "Fine. I presume Granger knows the charms to invoke an engagement?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess so. I mean, she's already married to Ron, so she must have seen them, at least."

"It'll have to do, I suppose. There's no chance of getting someone else as soon. I'll write the papers tomorrow to announce it, and once that's done we'll need to arrange some chaperoned appearances. I'll let mother know, of course, but I expect Aunt Andromeda will be able to stand in for her when necessary. Then we'll need to arrange the exchange of tokens, and plan the wedding ceremony."

"Fuck, Malfoy, this is going to take forever! How many appearances do we need to make?"

"Again, Potter, not my fault. I'd say a couple of lunches - "

"That's not bad!"

"a couple of lunches, three, maybe two balls, and at least two hosted dinners. Oh. And the engagement party, of course."

Harry sighed, letting his head drop. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. Let's do it. Let's get married."

Draco smiled sadly. "Let's."