'𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍

Chapter 6

Christmas will arrive, quietly and unobtrusively, casting silent gold into the pitch dark sky.

As though by magic, Harry will start and wake. He will stare at the sky, and at the sleeping body beside him, and carefully sneak out of the room.

When Harry made his way back into Draco's life a year ago, he never expected that it could turn out anything like this. He had never dared to hope they could mend whatever they had between them. He would have been glad if Draco deigned to speak to him again. He would have been content to be Draco's friend. What he has been given is so much more.

Downstairs, Harry will make the preparations. The fireplace comes alive. The fairy lights start to dance. In the background, soft music begins to play. Spanky will be snuffling around in his cage; Harry will retrieve him and cast a protective bubble around him before he sets him on the floor. Draco will never admit it, but Harry knows how much he adores the little guinea pig.

As the smells of breakfast starts to pervade the house, Draco will shuffle to the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes, and slowly pad down to where Harry is frying the eggs. He will slip his arms around Harry's waist and tuck his head in the crook of Harry's neck.

"Morning," he will murmur into Harry's ear. "Inspired to cook today?"

"Go wash up," Harry will scold, spatula ready to flip the eggs. "Breakfast will be done in ten minutes." He will pretend that his heart isn't beating frantically in his chest.

He won't have to turn to see that Draco's started pouting, but he will obediently head to the bathroom, and the sound of running water will fill the air.

Harry will arrange the breakfast neatly on the table, and check once more to make sure that everything is in place. His heart will hammer all through breakfast. When Draco notices and asks if he's feeling well, he will deny it and feign nonchalance, taking a huge gulp of the orange juice in a bid to calm down.

At nine o'clock precisely, the clock will chime, and Spanky will waddle out of whichever hiding place he's found. This time, though, he will be carrying something on his back.

"Spanky!" Draco will exclaim, reaching automatically for his beloved guinea pig. He will pause, and a little frown will appear in between his eyebrows. "But what is that you're carrying?"

By now, Harry's heartbeat will be thundering in his ears. Draco tugs at the ribbon and releases Spanky of his burden -- a neat, dark, velvet box.

"Harry, what -- " His question will break off as he opens the box. Harry will see realisation dawn on his face and fling himself desperately to one knee before Draco.

His old knee will scream in protest, but Harry's eyes will be fixed on one person only. "Draco Malfoy," he will stammer, not at all smooth, not at all the way he practiced, "will you marry me?"

Draco will raise an eyebrow archly at Harry. "Using Spanky to propose? Am I supposed to be marrying Spanky, then?" But then he will see Harry's look of agony and take pity on him, laughing slightly. "Of course, Harry," he will say, breathlessly. "I'd be honoured to. Now get off the floor before you shatter your knee again."

There is one wish Harry has made consistently since he met Draco Malfoy again. Please, let him let me love him again.

Now, Harry will look into the shining grey eyes of his fiancé, and he will give thanks for that second chance. And the millions of chances to love him every day, for the rest of his life.