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Dear Potter,
It feels strange writing you a letter, and I'm not exactly excited to do so. But you are my last and also only chance.You told me at my hearing that I could contact you if I ever needed something, and you probably didn't think of this when you offered. I'm trying my luck nevertheless.
I'm fucked, Potter.
Royally fucked. And I know you have a saving people thing, so I'm requesting your aid once again, as if it wasn't bad enough that I'm already so deep in your debt that I'll never get to repay you in my lifetime.
My father, caring as he is, has arranged a marriage for me. I should feel blessed that anyone wants to get involved with me, seeing that my history doesn't exactly make me attractive husband material.
The problem is that I'd very much prefer the company of anyone who isn't a woman at my side for the rest of my life.
I'm gay, Potter, and I can't marry my betrothed. I need to tell my parents, but I'm scared.
They won't be happy about this.
Here's where you join in the game. They can't be mad at me if I tell them I'm secretly dating the Chosen One himself. They'd never believe me so for this plan to work I need you to come with me. Tonight.
It's only dinner. We can be civil guests without showing obvious affection to each other since that wouldn't be good manners anyway, and once they've cancelled the arrangement I can tell them we broke it off. Sounds like a solid plan to me.
I beg you, Potter, please help me out of this, and also spare a poor witch the disappointment of having me as her husband.
Sincerely yours,
Draco Malfoy
Harry frowned down at the letter in his hands, trying to wrap his head around it.
At first he had thought this was just another crazy fan, trying to lure him into a dinner. But then he saw the neatly curved name that closed the letter and his annoyance made way to utter confusion.
He thought about calling for Hermione, so she could check the letter and tell him what she thought. He wasn't sure if Malfoy, if this really was Malfoy, would appreciate Harry outing him to Hermione.
Squinting at the barn owl as if it'd have the answers he was looking for, Harry dropped the letter onto the table.
The owl looked and behaved like a posh idiot, it didn't even look at him and Harry could swear that if the owl could pull up an eyebrow and sigh annoyed, this bird would do so. It had to be Malfoy's owl. There was no chance a bird would behave that way if not taught such behaviour from the beginning.
Stupid Malfoy, and his stupid owl.
Groaning, Harry ripped the bottom part off the letter and scrawled his answer.
Malfoy,
Ignore the so called life debts, but you fucking owe me for this one. Plenty! This certainly was not what I thought of when I told you to contact me. Pick me up whenever, I won't dress up for this.
Harry
Tying the small piece of parchment to the owl's leg, Harry glowered as he watched the bird fly off. Dinner at the Manor. What a good way to spend a boring Friday night.
The doorbell rang at 6.30 pm and Harry had been dreading the moment. Asking himself why and how he always managed to get himself into situations like this, he shuffled to the door and pulled it open much too forcefully.
"Wow. You didn't lie about not dressing up for this, Potter."
Pinching the brig of his nose, Harry sighed. "Lovely to see you too, Malfoy. No need to thank me, honestly. It's my pleasure."
"Of course it is. We started dating after the hearing and kept it low because of the press, yes?"
"Fine."
"We didn't tell my parents because my father can't be trusted."
"Fine."
"You'll go and dress into something nicer."
"Absolutely not."
Malfoy sighed but didn't say another word about Harry's jeans and Band-Shirt combo. "Are we ready to go then?"
"Not really."
"Wonderful!" And with that Malfoy grabbed his arm and apparated them away.
When Harry resurfaced from the nothingness surrounding him, he threw Malfoy a foul look. He couldn't believe he was really doing this. Harry knew he had been bored lately, but he hadn't thought he was bored enough to become Malfoy's fake date at a Malfoy family dinner. The second he came home, Harry promised himself, he'd look for a job or a new hobby. Preferably Hippogriff breeder so Malfoy would stay away from him.
Only then he realised that the path they were taking didn't lead to Malfoy Manor. It led to some kind of random beach house that didn't even look like it'd belong to the Malfoy's.
"Uhm, where are we?" Harry asked, unsure. Maybe this was just a crazy abduction plan, even though he had never believed for a moment that Malfoy could be one of his crazy fans.
"That's my house. We're meeting my parents here. I thought it'd be easier for you than the Manor. It sure is for me."
"Oh." That was quite thoughtful of Malfoy. Not that Harry would say that out loud. But he absolutely wasn't happy about the whole Manor part. Not having to step foot inside the Manor helped a lot.
"They'll be here in about ten minutes so best you just sit on the sofa and pretend to read a book, I know you can't read but they don't, and things will be fine. At least I hope so. You have your wand with you, right?"
"Jesus Christ, Malfoy. Stop fussing, your plan is good, it'll work. You're way too nervous which makes me nervous too!"
Malfoy flinched but slowed down his pace and took a few deep breaths. At least that was something. Once the git had calmed down things would be fine. And if not, he had always been keen to punch Lucius Malfoy square in the face. So it'd be a win-win situation for Harry no matter what.
To his surprise Malfoy's house didn't look like a mini version of the Manor, or even worse, Grimmauld Place. It was open and tidy, light colours and plants in every room, and it smelled like the sea and for some reason freshly baked bread. There was also electricity, Harry realised once Malfoy switched on the lights in his living room so Harry could pretend he had sat there to read for a while.
"What do you think of it?" Malfoy asked.
"Not what I expected. Less gloomy, less slimy. Are you sure this is your house?"
"Wow. Slimy, really?" Malfoy asked as he shoved him on the sofa and pressed a book in his hands. "The bathroom is over there, there's a second one upstairs that I'll refer to as our bathroom so you should use it. It's on the left."
"I know where our bathroom is, darling." Harry cooed as he opened the book. It was the same novel he was currently reading at home so he only had to find the page he had left of—
The fireplace roared up and Harry nearly dropped the book at that. The Malfoy's were about to arrive.
Narcissa was the first one to step through. Her face switched from the blank mask she usually wore, to confusion upon seeing Harry, to happiness when she spotted her son.
Lucius Malfoy on the other hand looked disappointed, then still disappointed when he saw Harry, then even more disappointed as he laid his eyes on Draco. "You should have told us that there would be another guest, Draco."
"I sent an owl, you must have missed it." Draco answered.
Harry heard the lie, he didn't even need to look to see Draco fumble with his sleeve or whatever it was this time to know it. But Lucius Malfoy obviously didn't, or he didn't care.
"It's wonderful to see you again, Harry," Narcissa Malfoy said as she stepped closer to them. "I didn't know you and Draco had befriended each other. The elves will serve dinner soon, there is enough for you as well. You'll stay, won't you?"
"Of course I'll stay," Harry smiled. Maybe he'd stick to talking to Narcissa for the night. Harry felt like she was the least exhausting member of the family. And they had shared a moment in the forest, so it couldn't be worse than that.
"Wonderful! Draco, lead the way?"
"Of course mother."
Harry got up and followed the Malfoys out of the living room, not willing to walk in front of any of them. Lucius looked almost feral at this point and Draco hadn't even told him yet…
"You can't be serious?!?" Lucius Malfoy roared the second Draco had closed his mouth. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you a suitable wife? How much time I've spent with Mr Greengrass to make this betrothal happen?"
"Well, you could have spared yourself this tiring ordeal by simply asking your son about his own plans. Or, I don't know, maybe by not being trapped in the middle ages?"
Malfoy stepped on his foot under the table and Harry realised he should have probably kept his mouth shut. But now the damage had been done.
Lucius Malfoy's face switched through an impressive catalogue of colours before it finally stopped at a greyish-yellow as he pinned Harry with an icy glare, his lip twitching in disgust.
"Middle ages, Mr Potter? Well, if this is the case. I hope you don't mind me asking if you plan to make a honourable man out of my son soon? I have to break a deal for your thoughtless liaison after all."
"Father, do we really have to have this conversation now?" Malfoy asked weakly.
But both Harry and Lucius Malfoy were too occupied by their glare off to even react to Malfoy's question.
"I asked you a question, Mr Potter. Will you marry my son then?"
"Yes," Harry growled, feeling his blood burn through his veins.
"When?" Lucius Malfoy pressed through gritted teeth.
"Whenever."
A quiet whimper from next to him made Harry snap out of his rage. Malfoy looked miserable. His face was pale as he stared back and forth between his father and Harry.
But Lucius Malfoy obviously wasn't done yet. "How about now? I can arrange for an official to arrive in less than five minutes."
"Lucius, dearest, don't you think—"
"Narcissa, not now! Mr Potter and I have a disagreement, and it will be solved tonight. Except my son wants to admit he was lying only to embarrass us some more."
"You know what, call your friend. But once I'm married to your son you won't ever treat him like this again. I want a written contract that you won't disown him, and that you'll only contact him on his terms. And that you'll also keep his name out of your dirty business. You're a disgrace, Lucius Malfoy, and I can't have you taint my name."
"Are those your terms for marrying my son?"
"Yes," Harry growled.
"Then so be it. I'll get everything ready."
"What have you done, Potter?"
They were alone now, with the disgruntled Ministry official and Malfoy's parents finally gone. Harry was still fuming and he didn't feel the tiniest bit sorry for what he had done.
"Saved you from your father. He's an arsehole."
"You managed to get us married! This was meant to be fake! You ruined it!" Malfoy's voice was shaking as he spoke.
Letting out a deep sigh, Harry looked at him. "Did you plan to marry someone else? If yes then I'm sorry. I'm sure I can cancel this—"
"It's not about me, Potter! You ruined your own life! You allowed my father to rile you up and now you're trapped with me! Do you even realise this?"
"I know what I did. I don't mind having this arrangement. It looks like stuff like that is rather common in the Wizarding World. Your name is cleared through this marriage, I don't give a shit about my own name. I haven't planned to get married to anyone ever seeing that the risk of my spouse being nothing but a crazy fan would always be there. So I'm rather content with this. You're not a crazy fan, therefore not the worst match."
Malfoy shook his head before burying his face in his hands. "I can't believe that happened. This is—you're fucking nuts, Potter. Honestly."
"You're not the first one to tell me. How about you go to bed, I'll stay on your sofa, and tomorrow we'll work out how we're somehow going to make this work."
"Lovely wedding night," Malfoy sighed. "The dream of every little boy."
"I can fuck you over your kitchen table while you stare at the half eaten plate your father left behind if that's what you want?" Harry huffed. "But I barely think this will help us."
"Speak for yourself, Potter. I kind of enjoy this idea. It's definitely the best of today's chain of grand ideas."
"Let's get to work then, dearest husband of mine. Let me fuck you over the kitchen table on our wedding night."