Permission

“This is wonderful, Mrs. Malfoy,” said Harry, adding a short shake to his fork as he said it.

“Thank you, Harry,” the blonde witch said, smiling kindly at him. “But I’ve told you so many times: call me Narcissa.”

Harry nodded. “Right, sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry.”

The two continued eating quickly, casting nervous glances across the table. Harry at Draco, and Narcissa at Lucius. The table was awkwardly longer than necessary, with Lucius and Narcissa at the ends of it. Harry and Draco sat directly across from each other, their shoes coming in contact frequently.

Harry made sort of a desperate expression at Draco, blatantly telling him that he’d rather get this over with as quickly as possible. Draco’s eyebrows drew together slightly, making Harry roll his eyes and look down to his plate. Similarly, Narcissa frowned at her husband, who pointedly looked away, ignoring Narcissa’s silent plea to at least attempt to be sociable.

“How is the Auror work going?” Narcissa asked Harry politely, giving up with her husband for now.

“It’s going fine,” said Harry simply, wanting more to get to the point of this uncomfortable visit.

“Harry’s being modest,” Draco put in, blind to Harry’s discomfort. “He got promoted again - soon enough he’ll be Head Auror.”

“That’s wonderful, congratulations,” said Narcissa.

“Thank you,” Harry smiled.

Underneath the table, he nudged Draco’s foot rougher than ever; the blonde hissed under his breath but regained his composure smoothly.

“Well,” he stood, looking around, “I’ll take your plates if you’re done with them.”

Harry and Narcissa passed theirs to him with murmured gratitude. When Draco walked over to Lucius, the older man placed his plate atop the others sharply without even looking at his son. Harry frowned at this, and Narcissa sighed lowly under her breath before making her way over to her husband and son.

“Draco darling, why don’t you and Harry go to the sitting room?”

Draco nodded, then caught Harry’s eye before gesturing over to the kitchen. When Harry looked slightly confused for a moment, Draco raised the plates a bit. Harry hurriedly gathered the silverware and glasses from the table before following Draco into the kitchen. As they set the kitchenware down onto the counter-top, Harry heard the hushed speaking of Narcissa and Lucius.

“Must you be so rude to your son and his boyfri-“

“Stop,” hissed Lucius. “Do not say that word.”

“It’s true, Lucius, not matter how much you try to deny it.”

“He’s just confused. He doesn’t love Potter.”

Though he knew this was perfectly false, Harry winced a bit. Draco paused in his wandwork to grasp his hand momentarily. Harry looked up at Draco, who leaned closer to kiss him gently and quickly. Harry couldn’t suppress a smile as he returned his gaze over to the forks. He continued to do his cleaning charms silently so he could hear the conversation from the next room.

“Perhaps if you actually spoke to Draco, you’d know that he does. He loves him very much, actually,” Narcissa continued to persist in this discussion with her husband, and Harry had to admire her because of it.

“It’s wrong and it isn’t true. What’s even worse, if one could possibly imagine, is that it’s the Potter boy.”

“Have respect. Just for today. They came over for dinner today so they could speak to us, and that happens very rarely because of your bitter attitude. You owe it to Harry.”

“I don’t owe him anything.”

Harry heard an uncomfortable pause before heels clicked out of the room. He sighed; would the bitterness linger between Lucius and him for the rest of their days? He certainly didn’t hope so, and especially not with what Draco and he had planned to tell the Malfoys today.

When the two men were done with the dishes, they put their wands back in their robes. Harry and Draco made their way out into the dining room once more, where Lucius was standing, staring angrily at the door Narcissa had most likely just departed through. He sensed their presence and turned around, eyes narrowing at the sight of them.

“What are you looking at?” he spat.

Draco spoke before Harry could have a chance to even think about what he could say, “Never mind that, Father. Harry and I were actually wondering if we could speak to you. It’s - ah - a matter of importance.”

“Truly?” asked Lucius, eying Harry with cold distaste. “Make it quick, then kindly remove yourself and Potter from my presence.”

Draco remained unmoved at his father’s cold voice and instead glanced at the door across from him. “Has Mother left through there? She needs to hear this too.”

At this, Lucius nodded. Draco touched Harry’s hand briefly so he would follow. Before he moved, however, Draco looked back at his father and said, “We would be delighted if you joined us in the sitting room with Mother. It’d be easier for all of us to talk in there.”

Lucius’ glare was icy but he obliged and followed the two out. Harry saw that Narcissa was already sitting down in one of the exquisite armchairs, reading a rather thick and elegant-looking novel. He gave her a polite smile and joined Draco where he sat. Lucius took his place in the most exquisite armchair and looked at his son and his partner expectantly. Draco steeled himself and sucked in a deep but discreet breath, Harry watching him concernedly.

“Well, Father, Mother,” Draco said pleasantly, “As I’ve said, Harry and I have some news for you.”

“Go on, Draco, we’d love to hear it,” Narcissa urged politely, though Lucius seemed like he’d love to leave instead.

Draco glanced at Harry, who nodded nervously, and back at his parents.

“We were wondering, ah, well…Harry,” Draco paused. Harry bit his lip and grinned despite this awful situation; he rarely saw Draco this nervous. “Harry and I would like to get married. We just thought, rather, we’d be honoured to have your, ah, permission. Acceptance.”

“What he’s trying to say is that I’d like your son’s hand in marriage,” Harry put in quickly, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking as much as he thought.

Harry felt his neck grow hot and kept his gaze to his shoes. Nervously, he glanced up towards Narcissa first, as he expected her to be much more accepting. He wasn’t let down, for she looked more surprised than anything. Breathing out slowly, he shifted his gaze towards Lucius. His breath caught in his throat, for Lucius looked absolutely livid. And disgusted.

“Marriage?” spat Lucius, his pale brows drawn together and his whole body emitting loathing. “Why would you ever suggest such an unnatural thing? You are a Malfoy, you are a Pureblood! You have expectations to meet from us, from this ancient bloodline of ours. You can’t just throw that away for - for him.”

Harry flushed red and hung his head. He felt Draco’s tense body move against his own, and then heard his shaky voice.

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Draco insisted. “Father, please, I don’t want to meet those expectations. I can’t! I’ve told you already so many times, you just won’t accept it -“

“Accept it? Is that what you expect me to do? Accept that my only son, the only remaining Malfoy, is a homosexual and a complete disappointment to your mother and I?”

Harry heard Narcissa start to speak, but Lucius cut her off before she even got a chance to.

“Draco, what you’re feeling is false. You’re going to marry the Greengrass girl, who is a Pureblood, mind you, and continue this long-lasting bloodline because it is expected of you. You do not like men, you especially don’t like him,” he said the word with such loathing, such disgust, it made Harry flush even more, “You are just confused, Draco.”

“I do, Father, I honestly do,” Draco tried to say, but he was interrupted once more.

“I won’t hear of this insolence any longer, Draco! And you!” Harry looked up, shocked by the volume of Lucius’ voice now and how he was glaring at him with such loathing. “You’re the one who made him this way, who altered him. Get out of my house and don’t ever you come back or I swear I will -“

“Lucius!” Narcissa’s voice finally carried over Lucius’ own, sharp and serious. “How dare you threaten a guest, and such an important one as him!”

The man glared at her. “Shut up, woman, you’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course I do,” she said coldly. “How dare you suggest I don’t. I know that Draco is happy with him, and he loves him, and Harry obviously does too.”

Harry felt incredibly grateful for her words, though his heart was still beating like mad.

“They don’t,” hissed Lucius. “It’s unnatural, and it’s wrong. Surely you have the sense to realize that, Draco.”

“What I realize, Father, is that I love Harry, and you - or anything - cannot change that.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat, as silly as it sounds, and he felt an urge to prove that he was worthy of Draco’s love and Lucius’ permission.

“Sir,” he said firmly while standing up, causing a look of mingled surprise and disdain on Lucius’ pale face. “I would really appreciate it if you listened for a minute, just please, let me get this out.” When it looked as if Lucius would allow him to continue, Harry did so nervously. “I know you really don’t like the idea of Draco and me together, and I realize now that you had all these expectations for Draco to continue the Malfoy line. It’s true that I don’t understand the, err, gravity of that, but I’m just asking you, to think of it through Draco’s perspective.

“He honestly feels no attractions to girls, and I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. There’s nothing to change it, and I’m just pleading with you to accept it. It may not be the easiest thing, but I wish that you would understand. I really love him, and I would never do anything to hurt him. I will treat him how he’s meant to be, and I’ll definitely try to always be there for him. He deserves it; I want him to be happy. And sir, wouldn’t you like him to be as well?”

He let out a giant breath after that, heart pounding in his ears as he awaited an answer from a seemingly speechless Lucius Malfoy. He heard Draco stand up behind him and take his hand behind him. Draco squeezed it and murmured an ‘I love you’ soft enough for only Harry to hear. He felt shivers go up his spine and yes, yes, yes, he’s the one I want. He’s the one I need.

Harry spared a glance towards Narcissa, and she had a softened look to her generally stern face. She was watching her husband anxiously, it seemed, but when she felt Harry’s gaze, she gave him a small smile. It was better than any she had given him though; it felt warm and real. With renewed confidence, he met Lucius’ eyes.

“Well, sir? Will you allow me to take your son’s hand?” he said firmly, though not unkindly.

Lucius frowned, his grey eyes unreadable to Harry. They flickered down to where his left hand was undeniably being held by Draco’s. He tensed visibly, and his jaw worked a bit, but other than that, he had no reaction. Instead, he said in a calmer yet stiff tone, “Fine. You may marry him. You do not have my acceptance, remember that, Potter, and I’m still considerably disappointed about all of this, but you’re right about one thing. I - I want him happy.”

Harry’s lips stretched into a wide smile; he felt as if he couldn’t breathe.

“Thank you so much, sir. I - I’m really pleased and grateful, really,” he didn’t know what to say, how to say whatever it is he wanted to say, but he knew he was so incredibly happy.

He twisted around to face Draco, who looked rather like a deer caught in headlights. Harry took Draco’s spare hand in his own and clasped them all together, beaming at Draco and still having difficulty breathing. Draco seemed to snap out of it and shot Harry one of the biggest smiles he had ever seen. Harry didn’t dare do anything more as Draco’s father was still leering at them, but he honestly didn’t care - he and Draco were going to get married. Nothing else mattered.