typical Fake/Pretend Relationship fic thing y'all didn't ask for, implications of domestic abuse in past relationship, enjoy the fic! happy ending
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Harry was not panicking.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
EXCEPT THAT HE WAS, AND IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF THIS BULLSHIT MINISTRY BALL AND A FUCKING ABUSIVE EX-FIANCÉ OF HIS THAT FUCKING ATTENDED THIS SHIT-
Yes. He was very calm.
"You can just don't attend it if you don't want to, Harry. I'm sure the Ministry would understand," Ron said with sympathy, which made Harry groan loudly into his palms. "No, Ron. You don't understand. I gave my word to Shacklebolt and if I don't attend this, then everyone would know it was because of him," he said in despair. "I can't let anyone know that he still has any kind of power over me."
"Maybe ask Ginny to be your date?"
"Ronald Weasley, I swear to Merlin I'll punch you if you suggest that to me again. Ginny is playing in Romania remember? I can't ask anyone. The reporters will go crazy if I do," he sighed, trying to rub his headache away.
"This is a mess."
Both of them stayed silent before Harry looked up to the window.
As if fate was intentionally doing this to haunt Harry, Draco Malfoy passed by the said window with a file in his hand.
Suddenly he had an idea.
A stupid one but an idea nonetheless.
He shot off his chair and rushed after the blond male. After the war, Harry had spoken in his trial to testify for him and now the elder worked for the Unspeakable Department. They had worked together for quite a handful of times in the previous missions to say that they're civil and friends.
He grabbed onto the male, ignoring the surprised squeak from him as he dragged him away from nosy people that can't seem to mind their business well.
"Potter, what the hell are you doing?" Malfoy asked with a raised eyebrow as they entered a closet. "I didn't know you're interested in closet blowjobs."
Harry's cheeks turned pink at the implication before glaring at him. "No! I just..." he fidgeted. "Fuck, I just need your help, alright?" he ended up saying with a weak voice. Malfoy's eyes examined him slowly before nodding. "Tell me what you need help with then. I'll help if it's something that I could help you with."
"I need you to be my date for the Ministry Ball next Saturday," he said, looking down at his foot.
Ever since he was engaged to Victor Monette, a muggle-born Seeker a few months ago, he suddenly found that he was unable to stand up for himself, accepting whatever abuse Victor put him through in the name of 'love'.
"Need me to be your date? Why? I think there are a lot more people to choose from other than me to be your date for the Ball or maybe you could just... not go to the Ball," Malfoy said, tone not unkind but confused. Harry chuckled softly. "Ron said that too, to be honest. It's just... I don't feel comfortable with just anyone and... I couldn't ask my friends to face the hounds you call reporters because they aren't okay with them."
"A-And I gave Shacklebolt my word to attend it. The thing is..." Harry shifted slightly biting his lips hard. "Victor will be there," he whispered in the end. "I can't just... not attend it. People will think I'm still hungover him."
"Oh, yes. Monette," Malfoy sneered. "The moment I saw that smug-looking Mudblood, I feel like hexing him ugly." Harry flinched at the harsh tone and frowned. "Don't call him a Mudblood."
