Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Potter,

It was good of you to come to the closing performance last week. Pansy hadn’t told me that she and Weasley had invited you so I hope you’ll forgive my initial shock when I saw you backstage after the final curtain. I also want to apologize if that headline in The Prophet went a step too far, I’ve already had my solicitor send them an owl addressing it. You shouldn’t be harangued for attending an event with friends with assumptions and claims such as those.

I know you’ve had your fair share of headlines written about you—as have I—and I don’t mean to presume to know how you feel; but if we feel the same about it then you are just as tired as I am with it all. The fact that I can’t have tea with a friend or meet for lunch to discuss a new project without being romantically linked to the individual I’m with is utterly exhausting. Lately it feels as though if I breathe too near someone the press thinks we’re shagging. If I’m being really honest, the worst thing is how utterly and completely wrong they have it. It's been such a long time since my last attempt at dating, and I’m extremely reluctant to drag someone else into this circus that I’m fairly certain my cock is going to shrivel from disuse.

I must admit that my purpose in writing this letter was two-fold. If, you are as fed up as I think you are, then there is every possibility that you may be amenable to an arrangement that may allow us both to control the narrative while engaging in a bit of journalistic misdirection. Especially since I know how much you loathe Rita Skeeter and I think that being able to get one over on her would be excellent fun.

So my proposition is this: come with me to the Gala next weekend. It's the biggest event of the year and I’m supposed to be meeting with a new director while there. It won’t do for me to go alone and having you on my arm may benefit us both. We let the press think we’re dating and all the scrutiny in the press will fall on us when we’re together. That means no more speculations over lunch meetings or outings with friends and it means we can both quietly attempt to date without the papers blowing things up before they’ve had a proper chance to start.

If you’re amenable to this idea then please owl me back quickly as there will be much to prepare before the Gala. If you’re not, well, then let's blame this silly idea on the bottle of Ogden’s I’ve been sampling and pretend I never made it. I do hope you are amenable.

Yours,

Draco

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Malfoy, Draco,

Congratulations on your performance, it really was very well done. If I remember correctly, your talent for drama was nurtured from a young age (don't even try to deny that you were a dramatic little shit) and I'm glad to see it's served you well in adulthood. I guess it goes to show that practice really does make perfect.

I could apologize for showing up unannounced and attracting media attention to us, but neither of us should have to apologize for what that rag writes. You're right in assuming that I know very well how ridiculous their content can be sometimes. It's exhausting, and even worse is trying to find someone who's willing to shag me senseless go on a few dates without selling me to The Prophet the next day. I've even started trying to wear disguises when I go out nowadays. I'm very familiar with a decoy mustache, but your idea of a decoy date is intriguing. I must say, I very much like the idea of this journalistic misdirection, especially if it fucks with Rita Skeeter.

To that end, I'll attend the Gala with you next weekend. I'm almost scared to ask though - what do you mean we'll have to prepare? It's just going to be another boring event, the only preparation we need to do is to iron the most stuffy dress robes we have and find a way to hide that bottle of Ogden's of yours inside them. Right?

Please tell me I'm right. I hate these things. And not just because the press seems to have a sixth sense for when I sneak off looking for a quick blowjob I'm about to trip in the middle of a dance. Oh Merlin, you're going to want me to dance, aren't you?

The more I think about this plan of yours, the more headache-inducing it seems to become. Are you going to want to act affectionate at the Gala? Do I have to talk to people? Do we need to colour coordinate ties? Yikes.

Off to find my own bottle of Ogden's.

Cheers,

Harry

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Good Morning Harry,

If you can call it that. Merlin, when I woke up this morning my head felt like there were 10 tiny bludgers bouncing around on the inside of my skull. I don’t think I’ve ever drunk that much in my entire life. My mother would be appalled. All I can say is thank Merlin for hangover potions. I wasn’t sure if you had any, but if you feel anything like I did upon waking, you’ll need it. Consider it a thank you for accompanying me last night. When we met to discuss the details, I must admit, I didn’t expect it to go anything like THAT.

Just thinking about it makes me laugh. Merlin their faces, I thought their heads were going to pop off! I enjoyed myself immensely. It was nice to have someone to talk to and mock the ridiculous three-ring circus that these events inevitably become. Although, do a shot everytime someone invites you to an event was not one of our brighter ideas. What were we thinking? I blame you. You’ve always been a bad influence on me. On the plus side, once you’ve had a few, your dancing drastically improves. It seems to me that you overthink it. But my god, when you dipped me I nearly died laughing. I looked into your eyes and it made me wonder: is that what relationships are supposed to feel like?

Geoffrey seemed impressed by you, honestly Harry, I had no idea you knew so much about theatre. Not to mention your insights on Hamlet were quite thought-provoking. I was worried he would want to put you in the damn thing. I know it sounds silly, but it’s every actor's dream to put their mark on that show. An actor's Hamlet can be so defining and to have the opportunity to do it with Geoffrey Tennant! The man is a genius, and now that he’s left New Burbage to do some work in London; it's just such an incredible opportunity. (I mean—I’d work with him anywhere, but who wants to go to Canada?) I didn’t even know he had ties to the magical community!

Anyway, thanks for being there. At first, I thought our ruse would simply be useful misdirection, but your presence helped calm me down. It almost made me wonder if maybe we could be I think I would have been a nervous wreck without you, so my thanks again.

To that end, Geoffrey has invited me to lunch this afternoon to discuss the project further. It will be him, his wife Ellen, (who I find truly insufferable), and myself. Would it be too much to ask if you wanted to accompany me? It’s just—I’m nervous about cocking this up and also having someone to keep me from smacking Ellen would be good. I could see if perhaps Pansy is free, but there is no one I want with me more than you since he has already taken a liking to you, I thought I’d ask.

If not, do not worry. I’ll be fine. I saw you chatting up that Tom bloke last night. He seems like a totally insufferable twat nice. I don’t know much about him, but we always seem to be up for the same parts. So of course we have to compete for the same fucking man Anyway, if you wanted to see about having a go with him, I understand if you’d rather not complicate things by being seen with me again.

Oh, and Harry, about that thing I did at the end... I couldn’t help myself. Your lips looked so soft and I apologize. I was a bit drunk and I suppose my alcohol-addled mind really wanted to stick it to the press and conveniently forgot that there were no reporters outside your front door. I’ve never felt so bloody alive as I did with my mouth on yours and my arms around you. I know that’s not quite what you signed up for, so I swear on my honour as a gentleman if you find time this afternoon to accompany me to lunch, I will refrain from assaulting you. Even if I have to sit on my fucking hands. Either way, if you find need for it, I hope you enjoy the hangover potion. It’s my own variant, not that store bought sludge.

Regards,

Draco

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Draco,

First off, thanks for the hangover potion. I was barely able to get out of bed this morning to let your owl in. If I never have to see a shot again in my life, I’ll be a happy man.

Aside from the ill-advised drinking game, I thought last night was great too. There are very few things in this world that I love more than messing with the press and all those high-society snobs. I have to admit, I thought you were one of them not too long ago, but last night definitely set me straight. You have a wicked sense of humour, and I find I can be relaxed around you too. Dancing with you, it was the first time I didn’t pulverise my dance partner’s toes by stepping on them. I’d love to accompany you to lunch today. If you think Ellen is insufferable, I can assure you, you don’t know Tom well enough. I definitely won’t be “having a go” with him anytime soon; I was just being polite because he said he knew you.

I don’t think you need to be nervous. You’re a talented actor and a confident man. From what I could tell, Geoffrey was already quite impressed with you, and would never consider Tom in your place (or me for that matter, though I’m tickled that you thought—even just for a moment—that I could do it). The two of you will work really well together, and the play is going to be an extraordinary hit, I’m sure of it. I speak from experience when I say that selling yourself short helps no one.

I also speak from experience when I say that the ink correcting spell Emendatio works beautifully. Though I can’t help thinking, surely a man as accomplished as you must already know that. It made me wonder if maybe all those crossed out phrases weren’t meant to be hidden after all. So to answer your question, yes. That’s what a relationship is supposed to feel like. Like you’re breathless with laughter, dancing safe in someone’s arms. Like there is no one you want to be with more in the world. Two people in a relationship should get lost in each others’ eyes, melt into each others’ lips, and feel so alive when they touch that they could never imagine living without each other again.

You didn’t assault me last night. You breathed life into me, and dammit Draco, I really like you. I didn’t think, a week ago, that I would. But seemingly against all odds, I do. As the bard said, “This above all: to thine own self be true”. I have to be true to myself and admit that I really want the chance to get to know you better and see where this goes.

So what do you say? We’ll have lunch with Geoffrey, and then later tonight, if you’re amenable, I’d like to take you out for dinner. No work, no press, no Tom and Ellen, no reading between the lines (and no shots!). Just us, getting to know one another and building a relationship.

I’d say I’m worried about going too far, but I don’t think I have. This feels right to me. I hope you feel the same.

Yours

See you later

Love,

Harry