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Harry couldn’t remember ever feeling more nervous in his life than he did in this moment. Which, given all that he’d been through in his life, was saying something.
“Relax,” Draco said, his fingers threading through Harry’s as they walked up the walk to the home that Draco’s parents had moved into after the war. “What’s going on with you? Everything’s fine,” he assured.
Harry had been to the Malfoys’ enough not to be nervous about brunch, but this time was different; Draco didn’t know it, but today was important.
Narcissa met them at the door, greeting Draco with a hug and kiss first, then moving to press a kiss to Harry’s cheek as well. “Come in,” she said, ushering them through the door. “Mimsy’s helped me to set up brunch on the patio,” she informed them.
The good thing about brunch with Draco’s parents was that Harry rarely had to say anything at all and he got to watch his boyfriend glowing with the joy of talking to two people who adored him and clung to his every word. Today Harry was especially glad to be able to just listen passively while he went over what he was planning to say to Mr. Malfoy later.
As Draco was talking a mile a minute about one of the new potions he was trying to develop the efficacy of, he interrupted himself to ask, “Could you pass the salt, daddy?”
Harry reached for the salt shaker, bumping hands with Mr. Malfoy as he did. In the ensuing silence, Harry replayed the words that Draco had said and realized that he hadn’t said ‘Harry’ but 'daddy’.
And he further realized exactly what he’d just unwittingly implied about their relationship.
Harry felt his entire body heat up in embarrassment and he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. What does one say to something like this? After another moment of everyone staring at one another in something akin to shock, Harry stood up, his chair scraping over the uneven ground loudly.
“Sorry,” he rasped with a wince. “I’m just gonna…” he trailed off uncertainly. “Loo.” Without another backward glance, Harry Potter, vanquisher of dark lords, fled from brunch.
He all but ran to the loo and hastily went inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Putting his back to the door, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor and tried to catch his breath.
After a mere few minutes of panicking, there was a soft knock at the door, “Harry?”
Harry groaned and buried his head in his knees he wasn’t ready to face the world, to face Draco or his parents.
“Babe,” Draco said, knocking lightly again. “Come on, open up. I know that you’re just sitting on the floor in there.”
“Go away,” he groaned. “Just leave me to die.”
There was a soft, “Alohomora,” on the other side of the door and Harry barely had the presence of mind to sit forward so he didn’t go tumbling out as the door opened.
Draco came in and shut and locked the door behind him. He moved around Harry until he could sit down cross-legged on the floor in front of him.
“You’re going to wrinkle your trousers,” Harry muttered.
“There are spells for that,” Draco replied. “It’s okay,” he said, “I know you’re embarrassed but honestly it’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” Harry hissed. “Draco, your parents now think that you call me daddy!”
Draco laughed and Harry wanted to hate him, he really did.
“Don’t laugh,” he whined. “It’s not funny. It’s humiliating.”
“Oh, darling,” Draco murmured, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Harry’s lips, “you were distracted. You weren’t even really listening to me.”
“Well I know that and you know that,” Harry said, “But your parents-”
“Honestly, it doesn’t matter,” Draco said.
“It does so!”
“It doesn’t,” Draco argued. “Truly. It doesn’t. I could call you literally anything and my parents would not care. You make me happy and I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he replied.
“They want me to be happy, it’s all that matters to them at this point.” He chuckled, “I did explain to them that you weren’t actively listening to me and I don’t call you daddy, though.”
“Great,” Harry said with a huff. “Now they think I don’t listen to you.”
“Harry,” he said reaching out to take his hand. “What is going on?”
“I wanted everything to be perfect today.”
“Why?” Draco asked, brow furrowing.
Harry sighed, “Because I wanted to ask your dad for permission to ask you to marry me.”
Draco froze, he blinked once, then twice before he threw himself at Harry, climbing into his lap and pressing him against the door as he kissed him.
“mmphupmh,” Harry managed inelegantly before getting his arms around the other man and fisting his hands in Draco’s shirt.
“Really?” Draco gasped, when he pulled back, his cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, his eyes crinkled with joy at the corners.
“Yeah,” Harry said softly, stroking his thumb over Draco’s cheek.
Draco leaned in and kissed him again, soft and sweet. “Yes,” he replied. “Yes, of course I will marry you.”
“I haven’t even gotten to ask for permission yet,” Harry protested, “And I know it’s important to you that things are done traditionally-”
“I don’t give a rat’s arse,” Draco replied. “I want to marry you, Harry Potter, and I do not care what anyone else has to say about it.” Draco stood up than, “Come on, I cannot wait to tell mummy.”
He pulled Harry off the floor and tugged him out of the door. Harry was already back outside by the time he remembered what had driven him from the table in the first place, but by then Narcissa was screaming with excitement and Mr. Malfoy was headed inside to fetch champagne.
Maybe it wasn’t the end of the world after all.