"You can't be serious."

"I'm dead serious, Harry."

The dark-haired wizard stared at the outfit set on the trunk in his private living quarters. After Harry and Draco had officially reinstated themselves into the school, their luggage had been taken swiftly back to their living quarters - their original ones. Therefore, Draco was back in the dungeons, and Harry was set in the secret wall in his office, inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"You want me to wear that? These are your clothes. Isn't that a bit forward?" Harry asked, holding up a rather nice set of clothing that Draco had displayed before him. It was a white, button-down shirt with black trousers, a black vest, and a black and silver bow tie.

"As I have raided your closet time and time again, yes, you are wearing this. Your clothes simply will not do in my mother's house." Draco explained, running his finger along the sleek bow tie.

"I'll look like a pompous twit!" Harry exclaimed, and the blond frowned him. "Sorry."

"You won't look like a pompous twit, you'll look like an established member of society. You'll look like someone worthy enough to date me. Mother loves a well-dressed man." Draco further explained, and Harry nodded as he recalled how Lucius had never, not once, looked disheveled. Indeed, he was an arse, but he was a nicely-dressed arse.

"You owe me for this, Malfoy." Harry sighed, beginning to pull his jumper over his head, grabbing the button-down. Draco quickly grabbed his hands, stopping him. "What?"

"Please tell me you're planning on showering before you put these on." The blond fretted, and Harry groaned. "If you're going to wear my clothes, you're going to have a clean body whilst doing so, Mr. Potter."

"Why not just take me shopping? Help me pick out some nice clothes of my own." Harry asked, setting down the shirt as he finished pulling the jumper over his head. He stood, bare-chested, and Draco glanced at his front.

The marks from their multiple make-out sessions, and the occasional hand-and-mouth-play had begun to fade, but they were still noticeable, and the blond smirked. Due to the cold temperature, Harry's nipples had hardened considerably, and Draco flicked one teasingly, causing the dark-haired wizard to glare at him.

"Mmm, it's a shame we're running late. Get your shower and get dressed. You got lucky this time." Draco ordered, stepping away, and Harry shook his head.

"I'd have gotten luckier if you stayed."

"Don't tempt me, you self-righteous punk. Move along." The blond ordered, and then moved to the mirror on the wall, carding a hand through his hair as if to make it neater than it already was.

~△⃒⃘~

Harry and Draco made it to the Malfoy Manor a half hour later, and the blond couldn't help but stare at his lover the whole time they were in the magical cab. Sort of like the Knight Bus, the cab was unable to be seen by the non-magic eye, and it was roomier than your standard cab would usually be.

Harry looked good in Draco's clothes - really good. In fact, he couldn't help but think back to the night of the Christmas dance, and how nice Harry had looked dressed in formal robes, even before he had taken the Veritaserum unwillingly, which had spilled his thoughts out. He really hoped to find out who'd done that to him, as he would gladly enjoy the pleasure of having them expelled. It was probably a no-good, dirty rotten Gryffindor.

When the cab pulled around the curved drive out front of the Manor, Draco swallowed heavily and tipped their driver before heading out of the vehicle, Harry by his side. They grabbed their overnight bags, as they would only be staying a day, and the blond led his lover up the marble steps proudly. Classes were due to start the day after tomorrow, two days after the new year, and so Draco was sad at how he'd have to cut his visit undeniably short with his mother.

The doors opened almost as soon as the pair had made it up the last step, and Draco led Harry inside, nodding to his butler as he passed.

"Leave your bags here, and Grimsby will take them up for us." He claimed, and the butler tipped his hat. He then took Harry's hand, and walked with him down the echoing hallway to the lounge, where his mother sat in front of the fire, a teacup in her hand, staring into the flames. "Mother."

The blonde woman turned, and smiled happily at her son, lips perfectly painted in red. She wore a long-sleeved black dress with diamonds encrusted around its waist and neck. On her feet, impossibly shiny black heels held her to stand taller as she walked towards her son, enveloping him in a hug.

"Draco, dear! You scared me half to death when you left unannounced. Oh, Mr. Potter..." Narcissa began, eyes trailing up and down Harry in shock. Then, she looked at her son, blinking.

"Mother, I'd like you to meet my, um... my lover, Harry, properly." Draco stated, placing his hand on the small of Harry's back, pushing him forwards lightly.

"Mrs. Malfoy, what an honor it is to meet you." Harry said, taking the woman's extended hand and placing a kiss to the back of it.

"Same goes to you, Mr. Potter. Would you like some tea?" She asked, blushing as Harry set her hand down. She stared at her son again, who grinned proudly. Oh, she would have words to him!

"I'd love some." The three of them made their way back into the lounge, and Narcissa sat in Lucius's old armchair regally. The two boys sat beside each other on a love seat, facing the woman. As the woman poured the two men tea, she cleared her throat.

"You'll have to excuse my outfit. I wasn't expecting company today, but this is a lovely surprise." Narcissa claimed, staring pointedly at her son who only shrugged and accepted the tea.

"Oh, you look lovely regardless, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry claimed, surprised. This woman looked almost like a goddess and she wasn't expecting company? He couldn't imagine dressing up for nobody but himself.

"Thank you, dear, and please, call me Narcissa." She blushed, taking a sip of her drink.

"Mother, I did write to you, and I told you I was planning on bringing him around before the start of the new semester." Draco spoke up, grey eyes meeting his mother's.

"I guess I never realized how soon that was. I'm glad you're here, though. You know how lonely I get." Narcissa's eyes drifted off, a sad smile on her face. Harry frowned. Usually, when he thought of Lucius Malfoy, he thought of the evil man who worked alongside Voldemort and treated people horribly. He never realized that, in some way, Lucius had been a husband, and apparently a good one to Narcissa, as she missed him terribly.

"Well, ma'am," He began. "I'll be sure to have your son come along more often." The woman smiled at him, a twinkle in her eyes.

"So, what encouraged the two of you to- uh, work out your differences and get together?" She asked, taking a sip of her drink again.

"Mother, you already know-"

"I do know your side, Draco. I know all about your years of fancying him, even before you two had officially met aged eleven. I'd like to hear Harry's side." Narcissa interjected, and Draco blushed.

"Well, uh... I don't know much about Draco fancying me before aged eleven, and I really didn't know he did at all until this year at Hogwarts. I'd always thought the two of us had a ridiculous amount of history, and most of our fights were more comical than anything else. Though, if you'd have asked me aged eleven if I believed I'd be dating Draco Malfoy in a good eight, nine years, I would've told you you're mental. I don't regret it though, not one bit." Harry smiled, taking his lover's hand and squeezing it. Narcissa watched the action, smiling sweetly.

"You two make quite a pair, I'll admit. And I know my son cares deeply for our bloodline, but I'd like to admit I hold some credit in inevitably getting you two together - officially, that is."

"How so?" Harry asked, interestedly.

"At the start of the break, my son came to me distraught over you." Draco blushed, hiding his face behind Harry's shoulder, emitting a grin from the aforementioned lad. "He began to talk of you like he had feelings for you, and that's when I really knew the extent of how far these emotions went. But, my son is hopeless when it comes to love, and is too much like his father when it comes to blood."

"As much as I wanted you, I was afraid of what would happen if we wound up together. I don't just date people for the hell of it, Harry, you must understand. I see real potential in you, no matter how scary the thought, and if we do marry, I'll never be able to carry on the Pureblood Malfoy name." Draco admitted, feeling selfish for how the words slipped from his tongue.

"But the thing is, Harry, magic is- well, magic. And I don't know what the two of you do behind closed doors, and I do not care to know, but there are magical alternatives. Just so you're aware." Narcissa explained, and Draco's mouth opened in surprise.

"Mother, you're not saying what I think you're saying." Harry blushed, as he believed he'd caught on to just what the two Malfoys were talking about.

"My father came from a line of Purebloods. And with that potion, or spell, I can't remember, a Malfoy child's blood would be only slightly tainted." Harry stated, blush coming even harder as his own words really sunk in. Similar to Draco's point of view, he didn't date for fun either, and the possibility of the two of them marrying was very plausible.

"But you do realize you'd be the one carrying said child, right Harry?" Draco asked, an embarrassed frown on his lips.

"Boys, you only just got together! I shouldn't have brought this up; it was foolish. I still think I've got a good few years in me before I go begging for grandchildren, so please, focus on your careers and uh, making up for lost time." Narcissa claimed, a blush covering her own face.

"But Mother, as you always said, it's good to be planning ahead." Draco stated.

"Draco, enough. Let's discuss something else. School, perhaps? How are your classes?" Thankfully, the conversation switched, but as the three talked, Harry placed his hand on his lover's back, a lightness in his eyes. Though the thought was scary, it also seemed exhilarating, and if everything did go right between them, he figured it wouldn't hurt to try. Being a father might even be fun.