The Proposal
“Oh, look, Draco. It’s Mr. O’Sullivan, the Arithmancer. We should introduce ourselves,” Harry said in an overly-chipper tone.
Draco eyed his boyfriend speculatively over his glass of champagne. Harry usually hated Ministry events such as this, and he hated meeting the people there even more. Draco did not for one second believe that Harry wanted to meet Mr. O’Sullivan, especially considering that the man’s job was one of the most boring in the Wizarding World.
“Should we now?” Draco asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.
“I just said we should, didn’t I?” Harry kept talking in that annoyingly buoyant way and Draco rolled his eyes.
“If you insist, love.”
Harry and Draco crossed the crowded room, Harry’s hand placed possessively on Draco’s lower back. The smile on Harry’s face was about a mile wide when they reached Mr. O’Sullivan. Draco was smiling too, but not in the manic way that Harry was, his was simply a polite nice-to-meet-you smile.
“Mr. O’Sullivan?” Harry said and the middle-aged man who had been gazing out the window turned to face the two gentlemen.
“Yes? Oh, my. It’s you.” O’Sullivan’s eyebrows lept up to where his hairline should’ve been, had he not been bald. Draco’s smile widened almost imperceptibly, as he found it quite amusing when people twice his age were awed to be in the presence of his boyfriend.
“Yes, it’s me,” Harry responded. “I’ve heard that you’re a very talented Arithmancer and I wanted to introduce myself.”
O’Sullivan turned a horrid shade of scarlet as he said, “Oh, my. Oh, my. That’s very kind of you, Mr. Potter, but I’m just one of many Arithmancers in the world. But you, Mr. Potter, there’s only one of you. It’s such an honor to meet you.” O’Sullivan gazed admirably at Harry and only when Draco cleared his throat did he seem to realize that Harry was not alone. “Oh dear. I’m sorry. It’s an honor to meet you as well, Mr. …”
“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” Draco said, forcing himself to ignore the way O’Sullivan’s eyes widened as he realized that Harry Potter was accompanying an ex-Death Eater.
When O’Sullivan failed to reply, Harry spoke up, “He’s my fiancé.”
It was now Draco’s turn for his eyebrows to rise to his hairline and his eyes to widen. He and Harry weren’t engaged. If they were, Draco was fairly certain he would know about it.
“Congratulations,” O’Sullivan said. He didn’t sound like he meant it.
“Thank you,” Harry said, his smile as ardent as ever. He promptly led still-confused Draco away from O’Sullivan without so much as a goodbye.
Once they were a safe distance away from O’Sullivan, Draco blurted, “Engaged? Are you completely insane? We’re not engaged!”
Harry winked and replied, “Not yet, we’re not.”
Draco looked at his boyfriend like he was a madman, but was too stunned to argue.
“Oh, look!” Harry’s gleeful voice rang out like a bell. “There’s Mrs. and Mrs. Oswell. Let’s go meet them!”
And for the rest of the night, Harry kept introducing Draco to everyone they encountered as his fiancé. It wasn’t until they were strolling down the streets of Muggle London on the way back to their flat that Draco got to question Harry.
“What the fuck just happened?” Draco said. He tugged on Harry’s hand and whined, “You can’t just go around telling people we’re engaged when we’re not!”
“We will be, soon enough,” Harry said cryptically.
“That’s the most vague yet prophetic thing I’ve heard that didn’t come out of Dumbledore’s mouth.”
Harry chuckled and smirked smugly.
“Are you going to propose or what?” Draco asked anxiously.
“Yes,” Harry answered.
“You are? When?”
“Soon.”
Draco elbowed Harry and scowled. “Soon? That’s all you’re going to give me?”
Harry laughed again. “Yep. Deal with it, Malfoy.”
“Are you kidding me?” Draco let go of his boyfriend’s hand and pouted pettishly.
“Calm down. You knew this was going to happen soon anyway. You’ve been leaving ‘hints’ for me all over the place. You think I didn’t notice when our Froot Loops were transfigured to look like rings?”
Draco had stopped listening to Harry and started ranting about all the things he needed to know about the proposal. “Is it going to be fancy and romantic with rose petals and all that? Or are you just going to hide the ring inside a burrito like a hooligan? Because, I love you Harry, but I’m not willing to risk my life by eating something that contains a ring I could choke on. Which means that I can’t eat anything until you propose. Oh, and what if it’s in public? I’ll have to practice my shocked face. You’re not going to have, like, a secret photographer or anything who jumps out and takes pictures when you get down on one knee, are you? I think I might have a heart attack if you do. Shit. And now I’m also going to have to look really nice everyday.”
Harry shook his head in amusement and touched Draco’s cheek fondly. “Slow down, babe. Everything’s going to be okay. And by the way, you already look really nice.”
Draco sighed and allowed Harry to pull him into his arms. “Thanks, love, but there’s a difference between casually looking really nice and getting engaged looking really nice.”
Harry chuckled. He broke the hug so he could kiss Draco. “Well, I think you look nice enough to get engaged right now,” Harry said slyly.
“You mean-” Draco started and Harry nodded.
“The ring is in my pocket,” Harry told him. Draco nearly stopped breathing right then and there.
Harry smiled as he got down on one knee and retrieved a white velvet box from his dress robes. He snapped open box to reveal two rings, one gold and one silver. “Dra-” was all Harry got to say before Draco interrupted him.
“Yes,” Draco said, his eyes fixed on Harry’s.
“You have to let me ask you first,” Harry pointed out.
Draco frowned. “Fine.”
“Draco Malfoy, I love you and I cannot imagine a life in which I don’t. You-”
“Yes,” Draco said, cutting off Harry again.
“Not yet,” Harry said, a bit irritably.
Draco rolled his eyes and Harry went on, “You’re my keeper, my person, my everything. I want you to be my husband too. Will you-”
“Yes.”
“Stop doing that. I’m trying to make a memorable moment here.”
“Right now the only thing memorable about this moment is how much of an insufferable prat you’re being.”
Harry scoffed. “I’m the insufferable prat?”
Draco groaned loudly. “You’re killing me, Potter. Would you just ask me to marry you already?”
“Fine,” Harry said petulantly. Then, tenderly, “Will you marry me?”
There was a beat of silence and Draco didn’t say anything.
“Are you for real right now?” Harry asked.
“Well, I don’t know if I want to marry you anymore. You were being mean,” Draco said, crossing his arms childishly.
“You kept interrupting me! Will you just fucking marry me already?”
Draco stroked his chin, pretending to consider before finally answering, “Yes. Of course I will, you git.”
Harry grinned and laughed. He slid the silver ring onto Draco’s finger and the gold onto his own. After shoving the box back into his pocket, he stood again and pecked Draco lightly on the lips.
“That’s it? That’s our engagement kiss?” Draco said.
Harry laughed wickedly and dragged Draco into a nearby alley.
“No, this is our engagement kiss,” he said. He pulled Draco into a deep, passionate kiss and Draco Disapparated in an instant, apparently very eager to celebrate the engagement in a deeper, more passionate way.
