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“I feel like this is house discrimination,” Harry complained, pulling discontentedly at the heavy suit of golden-brown fur. “I feel like there were a lot of ways that this could have gone that weren’t this one.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Draco’s voice had gone that special level of posh that Harry knew from long experience meant that his boyfriend knew exactly what he meant but would deny it to the grave. He didn’t bother to meet Harry’s eyes, instead giving himself a critical look in the mirror as he smoothed his hands over the voluminous froth of pink and glitter flaring from his narrow waist. “I feel like this could use more tulle.”
“Draco, come on.”
Draco’s wand twirled in his hand and his skirt ballooned another foot in each direction, pushing Harry even further out of his sightline. “Stop being such a child, Potter. This isn’t about you. Your godson wants to be Dorothy for Halloween. It’s your duty as his guardian to support him. You don’t want to reinforce toxic gender roles by refusing, do you?”
Harry gave him an incredulous look. “Did I miss the part of the conversation where I said ‘I don’t want to wear this monstrosity, so the whole group costume has to be scrapped?’”
“It was implied,” Draco drawled.
“It wasn’t even a little bit implied.”
“Teddy wants you in that costume.”
“Teddy is four and extremely suggestible.”
Draco ran his fingers through the smooth ringlets of his hair, narrowing his eyes at his reflection. “It isn’t my fault that he is an excellent judge of character. Do my cheeks need to be pinker? I feel like they do.” He swiped a fluffy brush over his cheeks in a way that made absolutely no difference that Harry could see before finally glancing over. “Besides, would you rather have been brainless or heartless instead? And anyway, those costumes were already taken.”
“I could’ve been the wizard,” Harry grumbled.
“Ah, yes, the conman, that would have been much better.”
“At least the outfit would have been cooler.”
Adjusting his tall silver crown one last time, Draco turned from the mirror to face Harry fully. “Trick or Treating is going to start in twenty minutes. Stop pouting and put on your costume.”
Giving up, Harry reluctantly climbed into the hot, baggy, rented monstrosity, grumbling under his breath all the while. “Ron and Hermione are meeting us here?” he asked as he straightened, wrinkling his nose as Draco cast a charm on his face to make the mask adhere more realistically to his features and rearranged the stupid little bow sitting atop his curly mane.
“Any moment now,” Draco confirmed.
As if on cue, Harry heard Ron’s irritated voice calling up the stairs. “Malfoy, get your petty arse down here!”
Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco, who didn’t deign to acknowledge the look, instead brushing past Harry and somehow managing to exit the room and descend the narrow staircase gracefully despite his dress being at least three times its width. “Weasley, Granger,” he greeted. When Harry finally managed to climb out from behind him, he found his two best friends looking distinctly unamused.
“The Scarecrow? Really?” Ron asked dryly. “This is because I beat you at chess, isn’t it.”
Draco looked at him innocently. “I have no recollection of that.”
Ron snorted disbelievingly. “And Hermione?” Reaching over, he knocked twice on her metal-enclosed chest, giving Draco a pointed look as the sound echoed rather more than physics would suggest it might.
“They’re just costumes, Weasley. Stop reading so much into it.”
The conversation was cut short by the flare of the Floo as Andromeda guided an excited and extremely adorable blue plaid pinafore-wearing Teddy through. “Don’t keep him out too late or let him have too much candy,” Andromeda warned Harry.
“Got it. We’ll see you in a few days, okay?”
“See you all soon,” Andromeda agreed before leaning down to kiss Teddy goodnight. “Be good.”
“Trick or Treat!” came Teddy’s excited answer.
Andromeda gave Harry a look that fell somewhere between sympathy and amusement. “Good luck.”
As Teddy grabbed Ron by the hand, dragging him toward the door and beginning a loud and offkey rendition of Follow the Yellow Brick Road, Harry looped his arm through Draco’s. “So tell me, really, what did Hermione do to earn herself the Tin Man?”
“She keeps refusing to put my petition for updated uniforms before the St. Mungos board.”
“Those massively expensive ones that look like they just came off a runway?”
“I maintain that it’s heartless to make someone who looks like me wear lime,” Draco insisted. “It’s a complete waste of my complexion.”
“You are an absolute nutter.” Looking over at Draco’s ensemble, he couldn’t help but ask, “So, why Glinda, then?”
“Have you seen The Wizard of Oz?” Draco asked him, not bothering to pause for an answer. “Glinda is absolutely a Slytherin. She could have told Dorothy how those shoes worked at any time, but she decided to use her for her own purposes, first. She has an impressively diabolical brain wrapped up in all the glitter. Besides—” He stepped away from Harry to give a little twirl, “I look fantastic in pink.”
Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile as he pulled the blond in for a kiss. “I’ll give you that one. But next year, I’m getting Teddy hooked on something I like before you can get into his head with something else that’s going to make me and my friends look like idiots.”
“Is that so? And what sub-par piece of media do you think you can manipulate him into choosing?”
“I was thinking Star Wars. Pretty sure I could rock a Han Solo costume.”
Draco studied Harry for a moment, his cheeks flushing slightly as he licked his lips seemingly-unconsciously. “I suppose I could live with that.”
Harry grinned devilishly. “Besides, I think you'd make a great Chewbacca.”
Draco’s squawk of displeasure was barely audible over Harry’s cackling laughter as he slipped away from his boyfriend to link his arms with Teddy as he, Ron, and Hermione, skipped gamely down the road.