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It was the second week of June, both of them curled on the velvet couch in their living room, having finished with work hours ago and finally ready to be quickly absorbed in the intertwining voices of Molly's, Hermione's and Narcissa's voice which would undoubtedly haunt them for the next couple of weeks (or months rather), laced with excitement and triumph after tomorrow's monthly dinner.
Really, it was kind of exciting - this whole engagement thing - and the fact that both Draco and Harry agreed that the stunned silence at the table when the finally revealed the truth would be just precious. Although Harry noticed that Hermione has her suspicions about tomorrow's event, he made sure not to give too many clues that would make it seem like their lives were no somehow different.
And they weren't different in a lot of things but it still felt like the reality has shifted a tiny bit to the left after Draco said that glorious "Yes!" a couple of days ago.
At first, they didn't really plan for no one to know until the Saturday dinner, but it accidentally happened so they decided to keep it in their own four walls only for a little while. Namely, Draco prefered not to wear any of his jewellery to work as it seemed inappropriate and unprofessional and also, he was convinced that all his coworkers would swoon over the ring on his finger if he wore it. The fact that he swooned over the finger when he wore it was enough. And on Harry's part, it was mostly the inconvenience of The Golden Trio's jobs which kept him from telling either Ron or Hermione; Ron was out on some raid and Hermione was stuck in a nasty case she's been working on for weeks.
And as days went by, the secret only became sweeter and sweeter because for the first time in Harry's life it felt like he knew something that was only his. His secrets weren't spilt over the table for dozens of other people to see and he loved enjoying the glimmer of a promise on Draco's finger when they cuddled like this with wine in their hands, chatting lazily.
Currently, they were discussing the issue of the already mentioned women and developing strategies for defensive attacks if their wedding planning went overboard. They were also trying to picture their friends reactions after they found out about the fact that this was real and Harry and Draco weren't some stupid experimental fling like The Prophet had suggested when they first started dating.
It seemed like ages ago when Draco burst into Harry's kitchen one morning with a mix of nervousness and anger on his face, cursing those obnoxious reporters and mostly everyone his tongue could think of. But it wasn't long before Harry found another purpose for Draco's tongue after convincing him that Prophet could go fuck itself and that Harry is not going to bloody leave him because Prophet thought Harry might.
It seemed like ages ago when they were so anxious for their future, so nervous about every step they made with each other because, as Draco had mentioned the morning after Harry had proposed, nothing huge will change in their lives. They will have a ring or two more than before, a different surname and that was pretty much all; even their friends never failed to mention how incredibly domestic they with their stupid black cat named Butterbean and them switching their clothes regularly and the goodbye kisses and the hello kisses and them making each other lunch and the pet names and the flirting etc. etc. etc.
So maybe it wasn't such big of a deal but Harry was certain Molly will make it a big deal and Hermione will want everything to be perfect and Narcissa won't leave them alone until they fulfil all the wishes the other two have.
"You know what would be perfect, though?", Harry asked softly, taking Draco's hands into his after putting their glasses down. He rubbed the pale knuckles and then turned the ring over a couple of times, feeling Draco's gaze on him.
"What would?", Draco tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips, Harry's soft fingers intertwining with his own.
"If we ran away to Las Vegas and got married tonight," Harry chuckled but then got all serious and caught Draco's eyes. The blond knew that look so well and Harry uses it rarely because it is leverage he doesn't want to lose. Draco had seen it twice in his life: the first time he ended up with crimson Curtains in their bedroom and the second one with the pesky creature which carefully jumped from his thigh as he tilted his eyebrow and asked, his voice slightly high: "Have you lost your damn mind?"
"You've scared Butterbean away!", Harry tried to reach for the cat but Butterbean slipped away from his grasp and disappeared into the kitchen. "And you know that I've lost my mind a long time ago, Draco."
Draco watched him with raised eyebrows, waiting for a punchline or anything that would indicate that Harry was, in fact, joking, although he knew nothing of that nature would come.
"We can't just run away and get married, Potter," he stated after a moment or two of Harry attempting to make a puppy face; it was rather a pathetic attempt and Draco was well aware that his, now, fiance could do much better than what he was then displaying.
"Why not? what is there to stop us?", Harry countered with a smirk.
"My mother who would kill us both for not telling her that we were getting married so she could buy us a yacht or something, Molly who would kill us both for not letting her make us a feast for a thousand people and then invite like twenty, Hermione who would kill us for being foolish and not thinking our wedding through, all the people who would kill us because they wouldn't be able to witness you crying when I say "I do." and the list could go on, to be honest."
"You will be one to cry, Malfoy, not me."
"We will both cry and you know it but it will be adorable and it should not go unwitnessed."
"We could call some of our friends to go with us if you want?", Harry suggested but Draco shook his head.
"If we are running away and getting married in Las Vegas, we are doing it properly without anyone knowing."
"So are we really doing it then?", Harry's eyes were full of hope and love and anticipation as he waited for Draco to grin at him and then kiss him finally. They jumped off the couch and Draco was blushing, glancing at his watch and then back at Harry.
"Yes, if we manage to catch a portkey in half an hour!", Draco hurried down the stair and Harry walked slowly after him, not really seeing the point in hurrying as he will certainly be ready before the blond just as always. He walked into the bedroom, already finding a bunch of clothes scattered around the floor and their bed, Draco huffing stressful, in worries about what to wear.
"Hey, Malfoy?", Harry waits for him to turn an "I love you" already on his lips when Draco checks him out with and a raised eyebrow and the blush still covering his face. Harry smiled at his soon-to-be-husband and decided that this was the most beautiful image he could choose to see for the rest of his life; Draco with his messed up hair, in Harry's old pyjama bottoms and blushing cheeks.
"What is it? Scared, Potter?", Draco challenged with a smirk and Harry shook his head at the ridiculousness.
"You wish."