InsaneJournal

“My parents are always too busy to pick me up from the train. That’s why they always send,” he paused mid-sentence and his eyes lit up.

“Marjorie!” he exclaimed, running into the arms of a woman old enough to be his mother, but clearly not Narcissa Malfoy. “Harry,” Draco announced, turning around, “I would like you to meet my nanny, Marjorie.”

Harry couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “You have a nanny?”

Draco made a face. “She’s been my nanny since I was born, Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes, stepping around Draco. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he said, taking Marjorie’s hand. “My name is Harry.”

“Well, Draco, at lease you’ve found someone with manners,” Marjorie said, giving Harry a pleased once-over. “Come on now, your parents are waiting.”

She pulled a small brass key out of her pocket. “Alright, you two, make sure you’ve got a finger on it.”

When Harry and Draco did as they were told, Marjorie said firmly, “Home.”

With a familiar pull behind their navels, Harry, Draco and Marjorie were deposited in the main hall of Malfoy Manor.

“Welcome home, Harry,” Draco said, spreading his arms wide.

Harry found he could only gape at the magnificent architecture. The room in which they were standing was nearly as large as the Great Hall and decorated with adornments twice as expensive.

“Peach!” Marjorie called out.

With a loud crack, a house elf dressed in a tea cosy appeared before them.

“Peach, take Master Harry and Master Draco’s things to their rooms.”

Reluctantly, Harry allowed Peach to take his bag, along with Draco’s trunk, that he didn’t remember seeing arrive.

“It’s good to have you home, Draco,” Marjorie said, hugging the young blond. “You too, Harry,” she added, giving the Gryffindor’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Come on, Harry” Draco said, taking his hand. “I’ll show you your rooms.”

Harry dutifully followed as Draco led him up the grand staircase at the end of the hall, up the stairs to the left, down a hallway, a right, another right, another set of stairs, and a left, where they finally came to a dead end.

“These are my rooms,” Draco said, pointing to the door on the left. “And these are my guest quarters.”

He opened the double doors, and led Harry into a sitting room decorated in calm grey and navy tones. The room’s only furniture was a low table, two armchairs and a settee, but the simplicity was elegant.

“The loo is through that door,” Draco pointed to a set of doors on the right. “And this is the bedroom.”

He opened another set of double doors across from the entrance and Harry had to stifle his gasp. A large bed- much larger than his bed at Hogwarts- dominated the centre of the room. He ran his hand over the duvet gently.

“It’s made from _______ down. The sheets are silk.”

Harry nodded, although his attention had turned to the French doors leading to a balcony on his left. He rested his hand on the handle, but did not open the door.

“This view is incredible,” he gushed.

Both the windows in Draco’s guest room, as well as the ones in his own quarters looked out over the rolling expanse of the Malfoy estate’s front lawn. A long sloping driveway curled up to the front door from a wrought iron gate bearing a large “M”.

“I love this room, Draco. Thank you.”

Draco gave him a bright smile. “I thought you would. Do you want to see my rooms?”

Harry nodded, begrudgingly pulling himself away from the window.

He followed Draco across the hall to a set of rooms that looked similar to the guest quarters, only in the architecture. Draco’s sitting room had two armchairs, a settee, and a table. IT also had a fish tank that dominated the entire left wall.

“Draco, this is beautiful.”

The blond smirked. “If I were you, I’d hold my applause until I saw the bedroom.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He followed Draco once more, and his jaw actually dropped when he saw what his boyfriend had been gloating about. His bed was a four-poster made of a deep chestnut. Charcoal and grey covered the bed in a mound of pillows.

“Do you like it?”

In reply, Harry climbed up onto the bed, and curled around a few pillows. “This is heaven,” he sighed.

“As much as I would love to crawl up there with you and sleep for days, my parents are waiting for us.”

Harry groaned audibly. “Come lay with me,” he insisted. “Your parents will still be here tomorrow.”

Draco turned and headed for the door. “Let’s go, Harry.”

“What if I said my back hurts?” Harry asked, pouting.

“I’d say you’re a liar, and I’ll rub your back later for you. Now get up.”

Harry huffed and pulled himself off the bed slowly. “It really isn’t as easy for me to lie down, as you think it is.”

“I’m sorry, love, but my parents don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Narcissa rose delicately and lady-like from her seated position in the drawing room.

“Draco, it’s so good to see you,” she said, giving her son a hug.

Harry stood nervously to the side, trying to avoid Lucius’ gaze.

“Harry,” Narcissa said, taking his hands. “Let me have a look at you.” She gave the boy an appraising stare and frowned. Harry’s stomach clenched. “I thought you said he was with child,” Narcissa said, dropping Harry’s hands and turning her accusing blue eyes on Draco.

“He is, mother,” Draco said. “Harry, drop the glamour.”

Biting his lip, Harry fished his wand out of his pocket and cast the incantation, allowing his robes to fill out once more.

“They allow you to cast glamour charms at Hogwarts, Potter?” Lucius drawled, stepping up to stand beside his wife.

“Yes, sir,” Harry nodded, struggling to hold Lucius’ gaze. “I have special permission from Dumbledore.”

Lucius harrumphed. “Of course, you do.”

“Lucius,” Narcissa hissed. Louder she said, “Have a seat, we need to discuss the details of this . . . arrangement.”

Harry shot Draco a confused look. Draco sat down and patted the seat next to him. Trust me, his eyes said. Harry sat. Nervously, he turned his gaze to Draco’s parents.

“When are you going to have the engagement party?” Narcissa asked, smoothing her dress over her lap.

“After the announcement, of course,” Lucius said, giving Draco a pointed stare.

Harry’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. He glanced at Draco, who appeared unconcerned.

“Some time this summer. July or August, because we’ll want to do it after the naming ceremony.”

“Naming ceremony? What are you on about? Jamie has a name, already.” His voice got softer. “And you said we were announce our engagement when we were ready,” he said the last for Draco’s ears only.

“No grandchild of mine will be introduced to the wizarding world without a naming ceremony.” Lucius declared, narrowing his eyes.

“I don’t even know what a naming ceremony is!” Harry shouted, throwing his hands into the air.

“A naming ceremony is just a formal affair to introduce a pureblood child into the wizarding world.”

“Well, why is it so important?”

Before Lucius could murder Harry with his glare, Narcissa interrupted.

“Harry, a naming ceremony is the same as an engagement ceremony. It will just be a fancy party, here at the Manor, with all of the elite from wizarding society to honour the newest Malfoy and Draco and you.”

“We never agreed that Jamie’s last name would be Malfoy.”

This time, Lucius very nearly flew out of his seat.

Draco stood up and stepped between his father and Harry. “Father, Harry and I need to have a discussion of our own before we have this one.”

Although his face was red with anger, Lucius merely pursed his lips and nodded. Draco quickly pulled Harry to his feet before the older Malfoy could change his mind.

“That child’s name had better be Malfoy when you return,” Lucius ground out between clenched teeth.

Harry didn’t speak the entire way back to Draco’s room. He even elected to sit in one of the armchairs in the sitting room, rather than on Draco’s bed, which he had become attached to so quickly.

“You’re mad at me.” Draco said, sitting down on the settee.

Harry drew in a breath and let it out through his nose. “No,” he corrected. “Mad would be if you had already made these decisions with Lucius yourself. Irritated is you didn’t tell me about any of this and I’m expected to know.”

“Harry-” Draco sighed. “I’m sorry. I take for granted that you weren’t brought up in proper wizarding society the way I was.”

“Proper.” Harry snorted. “No, I wouldn’t exactly consider a cupboard under the stairs ‘proper’, would you?”

“Harry, I’m trying to help you understand.”

“And I’m trying to help you understand that I don’t! I don’t know why any of this matters! And Jamie’s last name will not be Malfoy.”

“What?” Draco’s grey eyes flashed. “She already is a Malfoy. Denying that right would be ludicrous.”

“Denying her the right of being a Potter is ludicrous.”

Draco rubbed at his temples in frustration. He scrubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath before facing Harry again.

“I’m not trying to deny her the right of being a Potter. I just know that she will have better opportunities in life if her name is Malfoy. It will also make it easier for her to gain her inheritance.”

Harry’s face fell. He knew he had been defeated. Drawing in a shaky breath, he closed his eyes and lowered his chin, nodding once. “Fine.” His voice was tight and choked.

Draco’s brows knitted in confusion. “Harry?”

Harry sniffed in reply.

Draco’s voice softened. “Harry, are you crying?”

Harry shook his head, but Draco couldn’t see anything past his unruly mop of hair. Draco stood up and perched himself on the arm of the chair Harry was sitting in. He carded his fingers through the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck. “Look at me, love,” he whispered.

Again, Harry shook his head. Draco cupped Harry’s cheek in his hand and gently lifted to look into his puffy red eyes. Seeing the tears rolling down Harry’s cheek caused the tears to sting in Draco’s eyes as well.

“Please don’t cry,” he said, wiping at the tears with his thumbs. “Tears don’t look good on you.”

Harry shook his head once more and he drew in a shuddering breath. “Please don’t,” his breath hitched, “take this from me,” he said unsteadily.

“Jamie’s name?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded as more tears streamed down his cheeks. “It’s the only thing my parents have to,” he drew in another breath and let it out slowly, “offer.”

“Oh, Harry,” Draco pulled him into a hug and Harry buried his face in the blonde’s shoulder. “Would you be okay with a hyphen?” he whispered.

Harry smiled into Draco’s robes before nodding a final time.

Harry followed Draco to the dining hall, pulling at the tight collar around his neck uncomfortably.

“Why do I have to wear this bloody thing?” he asked, jerking at his dress robes.

Draco smoothed his hands down Harry’s chest. “You look stunning. Besides, it will make my parents happy. Dressing for dinner is just good etiquette.” Draco’s hands came to rest on Harry’s belly. “Thank you for agreeing to leave off the glamour.”

Harry shrugged. “I told you, it’s more comfortable anyway.”

Dinner went better than Draco had expected. His parents were polite and Harry was gracious. It was only when dinner ended that Draco became worried.

“Harry,” Lucius said, setting his napkin on the table, “won’t you join me in the study?”

“Of course, Father,” Draco answered, quickly, standing up. “We would love to join you.”

“Sit down, Draco. The invitation was not extended to you.” Lucius corrected. “Harry?” he asked again.

Harry, who had kept his eyes carefully trained on the lace tablecloth, flicked them nervously to Draco. The youngest Malfoy gave him a small nod.

“Come to my room when you’re finished.” He stood from the table and gave Harry a soft kiss on the cheek before disappearing out the door.

“Well then. Shall we?” Lucius asked, standing up.

“Yes, Sir,” Harry answered quietly.

When they got to the study, Lucius shut and locked the door.

“I do not wish to be disturbed,” he explained.

Harry nodded weakly, sinking down into once of the chairs in front of Lucius’ desk.

“I’d over you some brandy, but not in your condition,” he said, pouring himself a measure. He sat down behind the desk and set the glass in front of him. “Do you love my son, Harry?”

“What?” Harry asked, caught off guard.

“My son. Do you love him?”

Harry nodded slowly. His eyes glazed over as he thought about Draco’s smile, his determination, and his unconditional love for both Harry and their unborn child. He cleared his throat.

“Yes. I do love your son.”

Lucius gave him a rare smile.

“Yes, I can see it in your eyes.” He took a sip from his glass. “As- understanding- as I am of this union, I still have one reservation.”

Harry knotted his hands together nervously. “What is that?”

“Draco is the sole heir to the Malfoy fortune. It is his job to make sure the line stays intact. Although you have conceived a child together, it is a girl who will grow up and marry into another pureblood family.”

Harry managed to bit his tongue, allowing Lucius to continue.

“This is not a request, Harry,” Lucius said unkindly, taking another sip from his glass. “Before I am dead, you and Draco will produce a male child, or I will make sure you and your daughter are erased from the Malfoy family completely.”

Harry kept his stare even. He also managed to prevent his hands from shaking. “My daughter and I don’t need your bloody charity or your demands.”

Harry rose from his chair.

“If you walk out that door, you can forget about marrying my son,” Lucius growled.

Without looking behind himself, or responding to Lucius’ comment, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. “Alohamora,” he whispered, ignoring Lucius’ soft sigh as the lock clicked out of place.