Chapter Text
As soon as we lost sight of Astoria in the crowd, Harry turned abruptly to Draco and me .
“Come,” Harry said, “I have something I’d like to show you.”
Assuming he only meant Draco, and that we were going to take Astoria’s words as a joke, I started to head out in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?” Harry asked, his brow furrowed.
“Did you mean me as well?” I asked, quite confused and already planning the fastest route to the firewhisky bread pudding.
“Yes, of course, Old Sport.” And that was that.
Harry led us up to his personal quarters. As we entered his bedroom, walking into his closet, I became more and more convinced I was trespassing on what could be an intimate moment for the both of them. Though, I suppose, that’s exactly why I was there— to provide an alibi for any accusations of intimacy.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by what I thought was a flash of lightning, but soon realised was Harry changing the atmospheric charms of the room. The ceiling and windows originally matched the dark, peaceful night of the rest of the house, but now it looked as though it were about three o’clock in the afternoon, warm and slow and golden.
Draco turned about the room, arms outstretched, eyes closed, breathing deeply as he took it all in. Opening one eye, he looked at me and softly spoke, “I’m paralyzed with happiness.”
This was the most peaceful he’d looked all evening. Harry looked so pleased, and so fond, watching him, I had to look away. That expression was for Draco, and Draco alone.
Although technically a closet, the room was huge, nearly the same square footage as the first floor of my little cottage. Draco flitted to and fro, hand always hovering but not quite touching the lovely fabrics, before falling onto the settee in the centre of the room. Sensing Draco’s waning energy, Harry began perusing on his behalf.
“Look at these—silk— yes, just like you’d said back when—well, we don’t need to talk about that,” Harry said as he just continued to pull shirt after shirt off the hanger and onto the floor. Some were gently thrown toward Draco, carried by the light breeze floating throughout the room and flirting with the sheer white curtains on the windows.
Covered in shirts, and picking them up one by one, Draco exclaimed, “They’re such beautiful shirts!” His melodious voice turned into a sob, “It makes me sad because I’ve never seen such—such beautiful shirts before.”
Sensing a need for privacy, I excused myself to the restroom, figuring I would give them a few minutes. After speaking to the portraits in the hall for a bit, I checked my pocket watch and decided to go back.
When I returned, they were both on the couch, Harry gently cradling Draco’s face in his hand. Even as an observer, I held my breath, aware of how precious a moment it was. This was the first time Draco’s eyes had betrayed his true emotions. There was conflict, of course, but more than that there was love. Love in both of their expressions, for that matter.
Harry moved closer to Draco, clearly intending to kiss him on the lips, but changed direction midway through to gently press his lips against Draco’s forehead. Draco took a deep and shaky breath as Harry moved back.
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat to announce my presence, and to remind both of them who and where they were.
Harry gave a pained smile, “Welcome back, Old Sport. I trust you found everything you needed?”
“Yes, thank you.” I took in the remainder of their body language, still holding onto one another as though the other might disappear, and asked “So, where to next?” It was clear neither was ready to rejoin the party.
Harry took a moment to think, then rose and lent a hand to help Draco off the couch.
“I know just the place.”
We took a different set of stairs down to the bottom floor of the mansion, past the busy kitchen staff, and into one of the gardens. Not the one full of people and laughter and spectacle, but just to the side, thick with heavy oak trees, filled with leaves and promise.
The two of them talked quietly our entire journey down to the gardens, so I walked a bit away to admire the nature and continue to let them bask in each other.
I waved to the awfully subdued Mandrakes, smelled the colour-changing tulips, and took a moment to sit by the small pond nearby as well. With the stars, moonlight, and fireflies, the night felt almost peaceful, if one could ignore the sharp tension between the couple near the trees. I did my best not to listen, but I believe Harry must’ve pushed Draco just a bit too far because I heard this next part quite clearly.
“Oh, you want too much!” Draco cried to Harry. “I love you now—isn’t that enough? I can’t help what’s past.” He began to sob helplessly. “I did love Astoria once—but I loved you too.”
Draco’s voice then became muffled, which I assumed meant Harry had taken him into his arms for comfort. Deciding I was now very superfluous, I decided to leave them be and go back to the party.
As I entered, I grabbed my who-knows-what number glass of champagne and surveyed the crowd to try and find someone I might know who could hold a decent conversation. This left me open to being very surprised by Pansy Parkinson, who it seemed had magically appeared at my shoulder.
I turned towards her, “Good evening Ms Parkinson. How are you? I was sorry to hear bout the championship.” Pansy, like many of the old money crowd, took up rich muggle sports— Astoria was said to be quite ferocious on the water polo court—and was now a professional golfer, who I’d heard had just lost in the championship match.
With a small quirk of her brow and a slight tilt of her head, she responded. “Good evening. You wouldn’t happen to know where Harry and Draco disappeared to, would you? Astoria informed me you were to chaperone, and she is now ready to go.”
Sensing the shrewdness in her gaze, I responded carefully. “We all just came in from the gardens, they are around here somewhere, I’m sure.”
Just as we both began looking around— her for those two men, and me pretending to help—I felt my pocket begin to vibrate and get hot. Pulling out a gold coin that was certainly not in my pocket when I arrived, I looked at Pansy, who was equally confused. As I opened my mouth, to say what I don’t know, Harry’s voice began coming from the coin.
“Hey there, old sport. I’ve left the house to you, this is your party now. The staff have been notified, so there shouldn’t be any issues. We, the two of us, have left and will not be returning, nor will we be found. We’re in love. Be a pal and tell Astoria for us.” Harry had tried to sound chagrined, but his joy was much too evident.
“Well. I’ll be damned,” I said, eyebrows raised.
Pansy looked at me incredulously, then stalked away, presumably to tell Astoria.
Now, only talking to myself, I rubbed my jaw and repeated, “I will be damned.”
I shook my head with a small chuckle and decided I could deal with the house stuff tomorrow, and made my way towards the exit. At the top of the grand staircase, I looked over the crowd once more.
“Cheers to you, old sport,” I lifted my glass in salute to Harry, wherever that crazy man might be. As I headed back over to my little cottage, I let my facial features relax and return to normal, the need for pretending over.