Becoming

Author's Note: Thanks to Robert for his beta on this chapter.

Chapter 16 August 12th, 2000

There were a few different things in my childhood home that I cherished above others. The manor was filled with priceless artwork and antiques, but most of those meant nothing to me personally. There was a wingback chair in my father's study that held great importance; I used to sit there on my father's lap while he worked and he would explain his job to me and give me advice that I still recalled vividly to this day. There was an ornate silver hairbrush of my mother's that I often let my fingers caress when I was in her rooms. Every night, when I was a small boy, she would sit at the edge of her bed and sing to me as she brushed her luminescent hair with that brush. I would fall asleep there in her bed and together my parents would carry me to my own quarters.

There were a few paintings I admired - an original Dali in the library always caught my eye - and there was a blue crystal vase in the foyer that had been a gift to our family from the Queen of England for donations my father had made when he was still alive. Above all the material objects, which accrued would count for more Galleons than our vault could hold, I cherished the newest fixture to our home the most.

Harry Potter -my best friend, my boyfriend, my lover- had been living there at the manor since the day he professed his love for me. There had been some debate on whether or not he should get his own place, since Ginny took over the flat they'd shared after the failed wedding, but I just couldn't bear to have him away from me after our struggle to get together in the first place.

Mother set him up with his own private quarters adjacent to mine, but I don't know if he's ever even stepped foot inside of them. Every night he spends curled up with me in our now shared bed, and I couldn't see it any other way. We take most meals together, we fly together nearly every weekend and I have him entirely to myself whenever I like. It's perfect. Almost.

I'm not complaining really, this is precisely what I wanted and I couldn't be happier, but there is some little sliver of our lives that's still missing. Something I've yet to pinpoint, but I know it's there, lurking, waiting to cause us strife when we're least expecting it.

It was this phantom menace that was on my mind while I scanned the paper that morning over tea. It was Saturday and I was chipper since Harry didn't have to leave for work that morning. I thought about what we should do today and turned to the events section of the paper, scanning it for anything that caught my eye. Unfortunately, something did.

"Harry," I asked, folding the paper down so that I could see his face when he looked up. A bit of butter had worked its way into the corner of his mouth and I wanted to lean over to lick it off, instead I merely cast a level gaze at him. "Did you know the Annual Ministry Gala was tonight?"

The look on his face spoke clearly to the fact that he was weighing his answer carefully but in the end he finally nodded. I was relieved he hadn't thought it necessary that he lie to me about it but still, I had more questions. "And were you planning to go?" I pressed.

"No," he said simply, almost rolling his eyes before he caught himself. "I would have told you if I'd planned to go."

"Were you not invited then?" I asked, mildly outraged on his behalf. With all that he did for the Ministry the very least they could do was invite him to their yearly party. Were things tenser at the office than Harry had been letting on? Was his association with me causing injury to his career? Had he been excluded from more than just the Gala because he'd chosen to bed the son of a former Death Eater over the daughter of a prominent wizarding family?

"Of course I was invited," Harry chuckled, as if the question had been utter nonsense. "They were incensed when I declined. The Minister had been counting on my appearance."

"So," I began, but all my questions fell short on my lips. I didn't understand and I said so.

Harry sighed and put down the scone he had been attempting to take another bite of while I asked my questions and kept him from his breakfast. "I don't like Ministry events, I never have. I thought it would be much nicer to spend the evening alone with you."

"I take it that it was I who was not invited?" I whispered, knowing the answer before it met my ears.

Harry got up and moved to my side of the table, clutching my hand in the warmth of his own. "I didn't want to upset you, but no, you weren't invited. The Minister didn't want a scene and he thought that since you and I haven't seen the Weasley family since the wedding that it might come to that."

"Why haven't you seen them?" I asked, veering off topic a moment to yet another problem I could see ready to blow up in our faces. If we were going to be forbidden from events the Weasley family would be attending I'd never get to leave the house.

"I think the answer to that question is fairly obvious," Harry replied, inclining his head toward our joined hands.

"But they're your family," I protested. "I never expected you to give everything else up when you chose me."

A flicker of sadness crossed Harry's brilliant green orbs but it was banished just as quickly as it had arrived. "I'm afraid I knew it would come to this all along. It was what delayed my hand in making the choice to begin with," Harry admitted. "I wrote to them my first week here and they know perfectly well how to contact me if they'd like to talk. Ron works in my department for Merlin's sake and he hasn't said a word to me that isn't work related since March."

"So, you're not going to try and win their affections back?" I asked, slightly baffled. I held no love for the Weasley family, but I knew that they were a major part of Harry's life and I wanted him to have that sense of home and family he had before. Mother and I couldn't possibly be enough to fill that gap.

"Aside from the fiasco at the wedding, I did nothing wrong," he answered determinedly. "I chose to follow my heart and they should be happy that I'm happy. If they were ever really my family then they would be. I've given them more than enough time to get over my poor timing and reconcile with me and they've made no effort."

"It's their loss," I told him honestly. Harry was the best man I've ever known and had he continued on his path to marry Ginevra I would have had to be content in the knowledge that I was a part of this man's life, however briefly, and cherish those moments for what they were. The thought of anyone abandoning him the way the Weasleys had was just unfathomable to me. I wanted to be with him every moment of every day, how could anyone not?

He gave me a weak smile and I took the opportunity to kiss the offending butter that still lingered on his lips. He kissed me back and it was sweet and gentle as it often was between us, but I still felt the fire in my gut the same way I had that first time over a year ago now.

Thinking on what we'd been through made me consider what we'd been doing almost a year ago today. We'd been at the Gala together, but not together at all. I smiled faintly when I thought of the look on Harry's face upon seeing my date for the evening and I wished this year we could have gone together to show that Harry and I were a proud and beautiful couple.

And that was when it hit me; the problem had been lurking and suddenly reared its ugly head and looked directly at me. Harry was ashamed of me; he was forgoing this Gala because he didn't want people to see us together. He certainly hadn't minded taking Ginevra last year.

"So if we're not going to the Gala, perhaps we can go out and have a celebratory dinner," I challenged. We hadn't been out much at all since we'd been together. Stories of our coupledom floated around on every newspaper and magazine but Harry was uncomfortable going out in public arm in arm so that any of those stories could be confirmed and when we did go out, it was often in disguise. I tried not to bring it up very often because Harry was rather adamant that he didn't want the media attacking us, but it made me wonder if there wasn't something more to it than that.

"I suppose," Harry replied with a nod. "What would we be celebrating?"

"Our five month anniversary," I replied and he chuckled.

"What gift do I give you for that monumental event?" he asked, clearly teasing.

"A night out with you, no costumes," I told him and his mirth died away rather quickly.

"Draco," he began, but I cut him off with a sharp look.

"Harry, I need to get out of this house, and I need to know that you love me and that you want the world to know it," I told him firmly, letting my tone tell him exactly how important this was.

So many emotions flew through his emerald gaze that I couldn't count, let alone identify them all. "I do love you, Draco. Have I not proven that to you?" he asked, his own tone shivering with regret.

"You have," I conceded. He showed me every single day how much he adored me, with every kiss, with every glance I felt it, but ever the Malfoy, I wanted more. "Now I just need you to show the doubters that I'm not some rumor or fling."

"I just don't understand why our relationship can't be kept private," he told me, and not for the first time. "If I had it my way my name would never show up in the papers."

"Well you don't have it your way, and quite frankly I'm tired of mine showing up as 'Harry Potter's boy toy'," I huffed. That had been the latest by Rita Skeeter who claimed Harry was bedding me as an experiment before he ran off to steal Hermione away from Ron. She even had the audacity to hint that Hermione joined us on occasion.

An amused smile quirked at the edges of Harry's lips but apparently he knew better than to laugh outright. "Are you saying that you're not my boy toy?" he asked at last, waggling his eyebrows and obviously trying to lighten the mood but I would have none of that.

"Is that all I am to you, Harry?" I asked, my tone glacial and faint in the suddenly frosty, yet elegant, dining room. His smile dropped at once and he stood, pulling me to my feet as well in one graceful movement. "No," he told me firmly. "You, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, are the love of my life. If I can prove that to you with dinner, then all you have to do is tell me where you'd like to go."

Harry always said the right things to melt me into a puddle of warm liquid at his feet. With him standing there, pressed against me, his hot breath on my lips, all I could do was sigh and give in to his apology. "Very well then," I responded, trying to maintain some sense of decorum, but my shaking voice betrayed my mounting affection. "I think we should go to Anthony's," I told him at last, waiting for his answer.

He nearly refused me; I could tell by the subtle widening of his eyes and the almost imperceptible lightening in the color of his lips as he tightened them. He knew just as well as I did that Anthony's was the favorite for people to stop in for dinner just before the Gala where they only served drinks and light hors' devours. He knew that by going there, it was practically the same as being announced at the Ministry doors together. But my Harry didn't let me down, he simply nodded and kissed me, whirling me around until I was sitting on the edge of the table, his growing erection pressed into my thigh. "Anything for you, My Love," he told me. "But I hope you're willing to reward me for this," he added, rubbing his erection against my own.

"Always ready for that, My Sweet," I replied, kissing him again until my mother walked into the room and cleared her throat sharply.

"Draco, Harry," she addressed us directly. "Where in Merlin's name are your manners? There will be no fornicating on the dining room table before midnight. Upstairs with the both of you," she ordered, as if chastising a couple of small children for playing Quidditch in the house.

Harry and I both blushed furiously and bowed slightly as we made our escape, chuckling all the way upstairs before falling into bed together. The laughs died quickly once clothing was removed and Harry's hot mouth was on mine as we slithered out of our robes and onto the bed.

I never tired of making love to Harry. It was as if every time I found a new inch of skin I hadn't yet explored or a new sound he made that caused my body to shudder with pleasure. This morning he was forceful and passionate when he took me, his hands pinning my arms above me so that I couldn't protest to his long, deep thrusts -not that I would have. After the world stopped spinning around us, Harry fell to the mattress beside me and curled a leg up over my own as he trailed fingers down the flushed skin of my chest.

"I love you, Harry," I told him, since he'd shown me just how much he loved me that morning and was planning to show me further that night. I thought the sentiment was the very least I could offer in return.

"That's all I need," he whispered against the crook of my neck and I smiled, knowing he would try to get out of dinner at Anthony's at least twice before dinnertime, but I also knew he would take me because it was important to me, and I think he understood that now.

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I was mistaken. Harry only tried once, and rather halfheartedly to get out of dinner at Anthony's. I was impressed. He looked dapper in black satin robes with matte black ivy patterns working their way up from the base. He wore a black on black suit underneath with the only color a small green design on the cuff of the robes with emerald and silver buttons on his shirt. He looked mouthwatering and it was almost me who persuaded him to stay home.

I wore a set of steely gray robes with deep black edging so that the color didn't wash me out. My suit was also black, but I wore a crisp white shirt and a tie that matched the smoky gray of my robes. We were probably the most beautiful couple in all of England and I was a bit miffed that we wouldn't be showing that off at the Ministry Gala, but the important part was that I was with Harry; I tried to remind myself of that fact every time my mind drifted to a dark place that told me Harry was just cooling his heels with me while the whole business with Ginevra passed over and then he'd move on as well. Harry loved me, I shouldn't doubt that, but after a year of his rejections coupled with the hatred of the wizarding world, that was easier said than done. I just knew at any moment Harry might see what the rest of the public did and leave me. I certainly wasn't worthy of him or his love.

"Ready, Darling?" he asked, his eyes sparkling in the light of the delicate chandelier in the foyer. It pulled me out of my revere to hear him speak. Apparently I'd just been staring at our reflections in the mirror for several minutes.

"Ready," I replied, and that word meant so much more to me. I was ready to take the next step with my Harry, I was ready to make him mine forever, I was ready to show the world that we would last and we would always be in love and yes, I was also ready for dinner.

His smile made my heart flutter and he took my arm as we stepped outside before Apparating to the alley outside the restaurant.

Anthony's was a massive and opulent Italian restaurant located just a few blocks north of the Ministry ballroom, so it was only natural that all the elite witches and wizards went there to dine before dancing the night away with their friends and co-workers. I hadn't had much fun the last time I'd come to this restaurant, but that was because I was with Luke and pining over Harry. Now, I was hand in hand with the man I had hoped to call my own so long ago.

"Reservation for two under Potter," Harry told the hostess when we arrived. The woman looked him over approvingly until her gaze extended to his date. Once she spotted me her eyes lit up, as if she were already counting the Galleons she'd be paid by Rita Skeeter for this inside information.

Harry must have seen the same gleam in her eyes because he looked decidedly upset, but it didn't stop him from winding an arm around my waist, letting his hand rest on my hip rather possessively. I smiled in spite of myself and nuzzled into him, feeling Harry relax without even having to look at me.

"Right this way, Sirs," she intoned and motioned for us to follow her to an intimate table along the edge of the room. She handed us our menus and departed with a smirk. I could bet ten galleons that the moment she got back to her podium she'd be calling the Daily Prophet.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," I murmured.

"Why?" Harry asked, his gaze not letting anything slip by him as he took in the other patrons of the restaurant and then settled back onto me. "Because she's about to have the media swarming this place?"

"Exactly," I replied, feeling a little chagrined. "I'm sorry. I didn't think this through. We can go somewhere else if you'd prefer."

"No," Harry replied with a soft smile. "This is our night. We'll handle whatever happens in stride and together."

I nodded, not wanting to argue further and make things worse. We selected a nice bottle of wine and I was pleased to note that the waiter had far more scruples than the young lady in the front and didn't even hesitate to see Harry and I together on an obviously intimate date. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the boy didn't recognize us at all, but more likely he was just angling for a large tip. Even people handling Muggle celebrities knew that discretion was usually preferred.

While the waiter rattled off the night's specials, I let my gaze wander to Harry, who looked perfectly relaxed as he listened and decided on what he wanted. I ordered the scallops while Harry ordered the mushroom ravioli and then the waiter excused himself to go place our orders with the kitchen.

Harry beamed at me, his entire expression revealing a hopeful desire and I was returning those feelings tenfold. One day I was determined to marry this man and spend the rest of our lives together. At that moment, I got the suspicion that if I were to ask, Harry would have agreed, but before I could muster up the courage for a proposal, or even before our dinners could arrive, our moment of bliss was tarnished.

"Harry?"

The voice wasn't mine, nor was it the waiter's or anyone else we'd mind interrupting our silent moment of acceptance. It was Harry's former fiancée.

Harry looked over and I knew it was the first time he'd seen Ginevra since their broken wedding day, but even if I hadn't, I would have been able to tell from the look of dismay on his face. This was exactly the scene the Minister was trying to prevent at his party. "Ginny," he replied and got up from the table. I could tell he was uncomfortable, as if he didn't know whether to hug her or shake her hand or keep completely to himself. I couldn't instruct him, I could only sit there quietly and hope she went away soon.

"I didn't think you would make it to the Gala tonight. Ron said you'd declined the invitation," she whispered and I could tell she was mentally noting to kill Ron for the misinformation.

"I'm not. We're just out for dinner," he replied gently, and her eyes flicked to me for the first time since her arrival.

"Malfoy," she said coldly, not in greeting, but more as if she was confirming her worst fears. "So, the papers are true. You did leave me for him."

"You of all people should know that the papers are rarely accurate, but yes, I'm dating Draco now," he replied civilly, though there was a note to his voice that was a clear warning that his preference of date was not to be disparaged.

I saw a tear well up in the corner of her eyes and I averted my gaze. I couldn't look at the woman's face after stealing her fiancé. As happy as I was to have Harry, I never intended on anyone getting hurt in the process. I noticed Harry contemplate averting his eyes in a similar manner, but he remained attentive as he stood there, albeit awkwardly.

"I hope you're happy," she replied, and I was certain by her sarcastic tone that she felt exactly the opposite.

Harry however, didn't miss a beat. "I am," he replied honestly. "Very."

Her eyes narrowed and she would have left if not for another person coming up to stand beside her, followed by several others. Beside her, and mostly towering over her was my own ex, Luke and behind them an entire troupe of redheaded Weasleys. Ron, Hermione, Molly and Arthur stood around them and I could see other Weasleys behind them. There was only one word I could have come up with for that singular moment in time.

Awkward.

"I'm sure you both remember Luke," Ginny chimed, her spirits lifted significantly with the delicious Frenchman on her arm.

Luke dipped his head in both our directions. His face was schooled into a careful mask and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Finally Harry sat back down and took my hand across the table. I glanced at him, hoping that I wouldn't see the spark of jealousy in his eye at seeing Ginevra with someone else that I saw when I was in her same position. Having Luke on your arm can turn the purest heart green with envy as I knew from experience. But his eyes were soft and only for me, as if trying to gauge my reaction to seeing Luke there as well. Was Harry still jealous of the French beauty? Did he think the man held even a candle to the flame I felt for him?

"It turns out he is also a magnificent lover of women," Ginny said, interrupting my quiet moment with Harry. Apparently she didn't like the fact that she wasn't getting the reaction she wanted.

"I'm genuinely happy for you, Ginny," Harry replied, turning to face her again. "You deserve someone who will love you for you and who wants the same things you do. Luke's ambition should match your own quite perfectly."

Her eyes narrowed, as if she was searching for some insult in Harry's words, but she'd be looking forever. I knew Harry meant her no ill will and judging from the open acceptance in his eyes, he hoped Luke could provide her everything she'd been looking for. A slight smile erupted on Luke's face and I could tell that he was quickly coming to grips with the situation. "So, the rumors are true?" he asked. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have finally found love?"

I could hear Ron scoff and heard the telltale pop of Hermione smacking his arm sharply while Ron's parents seemed to shift forward to better hear Harry's words. "I've never been so happy in my entire life," he replied, looking at each person in turn to make sure his words took root. "Draco is my perfect companion in every way."

I nearly laughed aloud at Ron as his face turned a sickly green. It was his own fault for assuming Harry was talking about sex, or only sex I should say. I couldn't help but flush a bit at his words myself. He'd paid me every kind word and compliment I'm sure he could ever think of, but this was something else altogether.

"And you, Malfoy," piped in a voice I hadn't expected. I looked up and into the round face of the Weasley matriarch and she gave me an appraising look. "How do you feel about our Harry?"

I could feel the warmth flowing out of my date at her words. I knew a heartfelt apology was all it would take to win his heart again. If things progressed the way I would like for my lovely boyfriend, perhaps we would be spending Christmas at two homes this year.

"I love him heart and soul and I would never part from him, even if my life depended on it," I answered honestly and Harry's flush matched my own a moment later.

"That could be arranged," Ron muttered, but Hermione's elbow to his ribs cut that remark off and the others seemed to ignore it as typical.

"Well, I think you both look lovely tonight," Hermione chimed in, winking at us, "and I think we've interrupted your dinner enough for one night."

"I agree," Molly huffed and began bustling the other Weasleys to their own reserved table, which I was happy to note, was separated in another room. Ginny cast Harry one last lingering glance but Luke shuffled her along and only Molly hung back. "Harry dear, I'll be expecting you and Draco along for Thanksgiving dinner," she mentioned. "You two can bring the cranberry dressing. And if you'd like to come for a Sunday dinner before hand, just send me an owl."

Harry chuckled and smiled. "I'll do that, Molly. Thanks."

Mrs. Weasley just beamed at him and pinched his cheek lightly. "Don't be a stranger, Harry. We've missed you, even Ron, though he's too stubborn to admit it."

With that, she left, following the rest of her dinner party into the next room and I let out a sigh of relief that they were gone. Now for damage control. "Alright, Harry?" I asked and he looked over at me with shining eyes.

"Everything is great, Draco," he replied and leaned over to kiss me, a deep and unabashed show of affection that made my knees weak. "I'm glad you talked me into coming out tonight."

"So, Thanksgiving?" I asked, utterly baffled at the prospect.

"It's an American Muggle Holiday," Harry explained. "Molly just searches out excuses to get everyone together for a big dinner."

I just shook my head in dismay, though I should have expected as much from the woman who had bustled in and out just now.

Dinner was fabulous, in fact, I think it tasted better now that everything was out in the open and Harry was being welcomed back into the Weasley fold. I knew how important it was to him and I was grateful that the family didn't ruin our night and could see the error of their ways; at least most of them could.

As we left I tensed again, seeing a barrage of reporters and photographers swarming the exit. I waited with bated breath for Harry to lose his temper or shuffle us off in a hurry but his stride never broke as he took my hand and pulled me through the crowd.

"Mr. Potter, is it true you and Draco have been living together?"

"Yes, it is," Harry answered without slowing down.

The reporters were shocked to get something out of him and they pressed in on us, demanding more. I thought the influx might make Harry change his mind about going out in public, seeing that the media had no intentions of leaving us alone anytime soon.

"Mr. Malfoy, have you been brainwashing Mr. Potter?"

"What!" I balked, but Harry only rolled his eyes.

"That's ludicrous," Harry responded and the tiny bald reporter pursed his lips.

"Would you care to give a statement, Harry?"

Harry stopped then and apparently recognized the speaker. I looked over to see Luna Lovegood with a hovering quill and paper and then flicked back to Harry who looked pleasantly surprised. "I think I would Miss Lovegood," he replied, looking defiant. He glanced at me but I didn't know what he was asking exactly; permission maybe? Either way I didn't know what to do, so I just shrugged.

"This man at my side, Draco Malfoy, is my companion and lover and I intend to keep him forever," Harry told her with a smile, as he winked at me. I couldn't help it, I was so overcome with adoration for the man who had been showering me with compliments all night, making me feel all the love I had been worried about for months and here he was declaring his love for me to the very people he had shied away from. It was too much.

I leapt at him and kissed him fiercely, feeling his deep chuckle as he kissed me back. "I love you," he whispered for my ears alone and I felt warm all over.

"Does that mean that you wish to marry Mr. Malfoy?" another reporter asked and I held my breath.

Harry didn't falter for even a moment. "Yes. I do."

"Let's go home," I purred against the shell of his ear. I couldn't wait to get him back to the manor and show him how much I adored every inch of him. Harry smirked and waved to the gathered crowd before Apparating us back to Malfoy Manor. I was the happiest man alive.

Author's Note: So fluffy. I think they deserved a bit of fluff after the tormenting year I'd put them through.