Chapter Text
...and the dress.
No, wait. The dress robes, Draco corrects himself. And not for the first time either. Every time he imagines his upcoming wedding, for some reason he pictures himself wearing one of those white, fluffy, Muggle-style wedding dresses that look like decadent meringue confections.
Absurd. Ridiculous. And yet, compelling.
Draco looks down at the wedding invitation ideas that he's been idly sketching out. Mister Draco Lucius Malfoy the current one says, in ornate cursive. It's early days yet – Harry proposed less than a month ago – but Draco can't help being excited, can't help toying with possible plans. His head is constantly spinning with thoughts of venues, vows and... veils.
Neither of us will be wearing a veil, Draco sternly reminds himself.
Turning his hands over, the glint of his engagement ring catches his eye. Goblin silver that doesn't blacken, intricately inlaid with dark green vines. Slytherin colours. It's beautiful. But... Pansy's engagement ring has a diamond the size of a grape on it. Not that Draco would want a ring like that. He wouldn't; it would look stupid on his veiny man hands.
This ring is perfect for his hands. It's perfect. Harry had it designed especially for him.
Draco picks up his quill again, starts writing out Mister Harry James Potter, pushing down confusing, painful thoughts the way his therapist has taught him not to.
(Maybe it's his hands that are wrong?)