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The ballroom was everything you had imagined the wizarding elite would want it to be. Polished marble reflected enchanted sparkling chandeliers. Live string music drifted through the air. Silver trays that floated around the room, filled with an array of fancy drinks and top-tier champagne, and every conversation seemed to happen behind carefully practiced smiles.
It was beautiful. It was intimidating. And it was your first official appearance as Draco Malfoy's partner.
You smoothed the sleeve of your emerald dress for what had to be the tenth time.
"Nervous?" Draco murmured the question without looking at you. His fingers had already found yours beneath the table where everyone was waiting for the Minister to begin speaking.
"A little."
He glanced sideways. "That's a lie."
You sighed. "I'm terrified."
His thumb brushed across your knuckles. "You don't have to impress anyone. Just enjoy the evening." Easy for him to say, he had been born into this world.
You had been born to two wonderfully ordinary Muggle parents who still thought fireplaces were for warmth instead of transportation.
You understood research, books, potions, ancient magical theory. You did not understand Ministry politics or old wizarding families. Or why everyone seemed to know exactly where everyone else ranked. It was all as foreign to you as if you had been suddenly placed on another planet.
The Minister finished speaking, but you heard none of it as the room dissolved into conversation. Immediately, people approached Draco.
"Mr. Malfoy."
"Congratulations on the proposal you're drafting."
"I'd love a word about the trade initiative."
You stayed close beside him, smiling politely as introductions blurred together.
"This is my girlfriend." Every time he said it, his voice softened just a fraction, a smile gracing his pale lips. Every time, your stomach fluttered.
For a while, the evening wasn't so bad. You answered questions and accepted compliments while hanging for dear life onto Draco’s steady arm. You listened while Draco discussed legislation with people who seemed to speak an entirely different language.
Then someone laughed. It was posh, sounded fake to your ears. "Oh goodness, we're stealing him from you." You looked up at the booming man in front of you.
One of the older witches smiled warmly at you, "Come, dear. Let the men bore themselves." Before you had quite realized what was happening, you'd been gently ushered into another circle. Four elegant witches, three of them wore wedding bands and the other wore enough jewels to sink a large ship.
"So," one of them beamed. "When's the wedding?"
You blinked. "...What wedding?" You were not aware of one you had been invited to.
"Oh, not yet." Another smiled knowingly. "But surely it's only a matter of time before you two are married."
You laughed awkwardly. "I... don't know. We haven’t-"
"And children planned?" The question hit you so fast you almost choked on your drink.
"We're... not..." The women exchanged amused smiles.
"Oh, don't worry. They'll come."
"I've heard Malfoys adore children."
"I imagine Narcissa is simply beside herself."
You smiled weakly. "I don't think we've..." Your sentence died halfway through. No one had actually asked what you wanted. “Draco is drafting new legislation and I have a project about-” you started before you were cut off.
“You have a profession?” the voice was cool and surprised.
Another witch tilted her head. "And what is it you do, dear?"
Finally, a question you could answer. "I'm a medical potions researcher." You actually smiled at that. You loved your job, loved feeling like you were making a difference in the lives of people.
"Oh?"
"I research healing potions and ingredients, trying to find ways to make our medicines more effective, and cheaper where we can." Your face brightened despite yourself. "I've been helping translate an old mermish tale about gillyweed and the effects on—"
"How lovely." The interruption was gentle. Almost dismissive.
"Of course, you won't be doing that once you're married." Silence. You frowned.
"...Sorry?"
The witch smiled as though explaining something obvious. "You can't realistically keep a profession while managing a Malfoy household."
Another nodded. "The entertaining alone is practically full-time."
"And the charitable boards."
"The social obligations."
"The children."
"You'll have your hands full."
You stared. "I... hadn't..."
One woman laughed softly. "My dear." She patted your arm. "You'll learn what it is like to be with someone so prominently placed in society, and I am sure Narcissa will answer any questions you have.."
The conversation moved on without you. Wedding venues. Your potential wedding venues. Family expectations. Heirs and education. Pure-blood traditions.
You smiled when expected. Nodded when appropriate. But inside, something was quietly unraveling.
You looked across the ballroom. Where was Draco? Just moments ago he'd been...there. Near the Minister. No… Someone stepped in front of him and you lost sight again. Another group gathered around Draco. You caught one glimpse of pale blond hair before he disappeared behind a crowd.
Suddenly… You couldn't see him. The room seemed louder and someone laughed right by your ear. Someone else asked you another question.
The chandeliers felt too bright. And your heartbeat stumbled.
Not here. Please. Not here.
You smiled. "I-I'm so sorry." The words barely came out. "I just need the ladies' room." No one questioned it and you turned before anyone could.
Your pace stayed measured until you reached the corridor. Then faster, faster, right past the ladies room. You needed somewhere, anywhere, quiet. Calm.
The first sitting room was empty. You shut the door behind you and leaned against it as your lungs refused to cooperate.
"No..." You pressed trembling hands against your ribs. Not now. Not tonight. You had wanted so desperately to do well.
Instead… I don't belong here. The words rattled through your mind before you could stop them. You slid down the wall until you were sitting on the carpet. Your breathing came too fast, too shallow. You squeezed your eyes shut. Count. Just count—
The door clicked open and you flinched. But there were no footsteps. Not immediately. Only after several quiet seconds.
"You found my favorite sitting room." Draco. His voice was soft enough to make your eyes sting. He didn't rush to you, didn't kneel beside you, didn't touch you. He knew.
Instead he stayed a few feet away, lowering himself onto the carpet opposite you. Enough space. Enough air.
"I opened every door down this hallway looking for you." His voice was soft and kind.
"I'm sorry." you muttered.
"No." His answer came immediately. "No apologies."
You nodded, but tears spilled anyway. "I just..." He waited. Patient. He was alwasy so patient. "It was too much."
"I know."
"No..." You laughed shakily. "I mean... everything." Silence stretched between you. He didn't fill it, didn't rush you. He simply stayed. "I couldn't find you." His face fell. "I looked up and you were gone."
His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. "I'm sorry."
"You were surrounded."
"I know."
"I didn't want to interrupt."
"I should've come back to you." His voice was thick with regret. "I thought... I thought giving you room would make you feel trusted, give you your own friends at these dreadful things." He looked down at his hands. "I was trying not to hover."
Your heart broke a little. "I know."
"I should've checked in sooner."
"You didn't do anything wrong." you assured him.
He shook his head once. "I left you alone in a room full of people who don't know you." His jaw tightened. "That was my mistake."
You watched him quietly. Then another wave of emotion crashed over you. "They were talking about our future." His eyes lifted. "They were deciding it, really." you let out a half-laugh that really was not funny at all.
"What do you mean?"
You laughed through tears. "They asked me about our wedding venue, even though I told them there is no ring." He sighed. "They asked about children." Another sigh. "And then..." Your voice cracked. "...they told me I couldn't have a job." The words came out so quietly they almost disappeared.
"Draco..." Your breathing hitched again. "...I didn't know I couldn't have a job if we're together."
He crossed the space between you before you'd even finished speaking and sat beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. He reached for your hand and lifted your joined hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles.
"Shh." Another kiss. "Love..." Another. "No." His voice was impossibly gentle. "No one gets to tell you what your life is."
"But they said—"
"I don't care what they said." His thumb stroked slowly across your skin. "They don't speak for me, for us."
"They're part of this world."
"So am I." You looked at him. "And I'm telling you they're wrong." His silver eyes never left yours. "Do you know one of the first things I fell in love with?"
You blinked. "...What?"
"The way you chew on your lip when you're buried in research." Despite yourself, you gave a watery laugh. "You'll spend six hours translating a potion text and then look genuinely surprised when I remind you it's midnight and you haven’t had dinner."
Your lips trembled. "I love listening to you explain theories I barely understand."
"You understand them." you half-argue.
"I absolutely don't. I understand about every third sentence." A tiny smile found your face. "That brilliant mind of yours..." His forehead rested against yours. "...isn't something I want to take away or stifle." His voice was barely above a whisper. "It's one of the reasons I love you." Fresh tears rolled down your face. "I don't want you to become smaller because you're with me." His hand cupped your cheek.
"If anything..." He smiled sadly. "...I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you have every opportunity to become more." You stared at him. "I don't need you to work." He shrugged lightly. "The Malfoy fortune can support us both ten times over. But if working makes your eyes light up..." He smiled. "...then we'll fundevery research project you could possibly want."
His expression softened. "I'll build you a library if you want it.."
You laughed through your tears. "You already have one."
"I'll build you another."
"You don't have room."
"I'll make room." You shook your head, smiling now. "I love hearing you ramble about potion theory."
"I ramble?"
"For hours. It is genuinely the most beautiful sound i have ever heard."
"I do not ramble!" you could feel yourself loosening, your anxiety slipping away with each well-aimed joke from Draco.
"You once spent forty-five minutes explaining why two medieval scholars hated each other."
"They had very good reasons. Lord Mont-"
"I'm sure they did” he stopped you before you could tell the story. Again.
"You listened to me tell the whole thing.."
"I'd listen forever." The words settled over both of you. Quiet and certain.
You swallowed hard. "And... marriage?"
His smile changed. It became softer. Hopeful.\ "I do want to marry you." Your breath caught. "One day." He squeezed your hand. "If you'll have me." More tears. "But listen to me." He waited until you were looking directly at him.
"I don't love some imaginary future version of you." His thumb brushed your cheek. "I love this one. You don't have to become someone's perfect society wife. You don't have to host parties if you hate them. You don't have to stop researching. You don't have to have children until you want them."
He smiled. "And if that day never comes..." He kissed your forehead. "...then it'll just be us."
"You'd be okay with that?"
"I'd be okay with whatever life we build." His voice broke ever so slightly. "I want forever with you." He smiled through it. "I am remarkably flexible on the details."
You couldn't stop crying now. Not from panic anymore, but from relief.
He pulled you carefully into his arms. You buried your face against his shoulder. He simply held you. No rush. No expectations. Just steady warmth.
After several quiet minutes, he finally spoke. “You were wrong about one thing, though.”
“What?” You asked with a sigh.
“There is a ring.” He grinned like a boy. You met his eyes.
“Even after this display tonight?” You huffed at him.
“Especially after this talk tonight. I don’t want some haughty society brat. I want you, my little researcher.” You smiled, snuggling back against him.