another drarry one-shot

Tea, Truth, and Tiny Tiaras

The war was over. Lucius was in Azkaban. And for the first time in years, the Malfoy Manor felt... quieter.

Still imposing, still grand, still too cold in the drawing room—but quieter.

Draco sat on the edge of one of the velvet chairs in the salon, legs crossed, fingers twisting nervously around each other. Across from him sat Harry, also trying very hard not to fidget. The tea tray between them remained untouched.

"We're going to tell her," Harry whispered. "You've fought Death Eaters, Draco."

"Yes, but I've never told my mother I'm dating Harry Potter."

Footsteps echoed softly in the marble hallway.

And then Narcissa Malfoy entered the room.

Elegant, unreadable, and dressed in muted silks, she surveyed them both with that signature cool grace that could've melted glaciers—if she felt like it.

"Draco. Harry." She nodded once. "I trust you've been comfortable?"

"Yes, Mother," Draco said. "We, um. Wanted to talk to you."

Her gaze flicked between them. "I see."

There was a pause.

Draco took a breath. "We're together. As in—dating."

Narcissa blinked.

Then, slowly, she set her tea cup down.

"Well," she said simply, "that explains a great deal."

Harry's brows lifted. "You... knew?"

"I suspected," Narcissa replied smoothly. "Draco only ever flusters that way when someone threatens his pride. Or his heart."

Draco made a strangled noise.

"I'm not flustered," he muttered into his sleeve.

"You were pink, darling."

Harry grinned.

"And while it is a surprise," Narcissa continued, voice softening, "I'm not unhappy. You seem... steady. Happier than I've seen you in a long time." She gave Harry a small, knowing look. "That's no small thing."

Draco looked down at his lap. "He makes it hard to be miserable."

"High praise," Harry teased.

Then Narcissa stood. "Well, then. Since we're sharing truths—" She turned to the bookshelf, ran her fingers along the spines, and tugged a thin green album free. "—perhaps I should show Harry something in return."

Draco's head snapped up. "No. Mother, no."

"Oh yes," she said, eyes glinting. "If you're going to date my son, you should know what you're dealing with."

She opened the album to a page covered in sparkling stickers and a very small Draco in a glittering silver fairy costume.

"Mother," Draco groaned, hiding his face.

Harry leaned forward gleefully. "Is that a wand made of tin foil?"

"It's wrapped around a cucumber," Narcissa said fondly.

"MOTHER."

"Here's one of him crying because a garden gnome ate his biscuit."

Harry was wheezing.

"Oh! And here he is putting a tiara on Lucius's head."

"I was three!"

"I kept the tiara," Narcissa added with a smile.

Draco looked like he was seconds from throwing himself into the fireplace.

Harry reached over and slid his hand into Draco's under the table. "Hey," he whispered. "I love you—even if you once bedazzled your own nappies."

Draco scowled. "You're not funny."

"You're right," Harry said, kissing the back of his hand. "You are."

Narcissa closed the album with a satisfied snap.

"Well," she said, sipping her tea at last. "Now that that's out of the way, would you both stay for dinner?"

Draco, still beet red, nodded mutely.

Harry smiled, lacing their fingers. "We'd love to." 

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