I'll Play Your Game

Chapter Eight

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter, do you have any comments on your new, erm...roommate, Draco Malfoy? How can you live with someone who followed You Know Who?" a reporter asked, a Quick Quotes Quill hovering at the ready over a piece of parchment by their shoulder.

Harry could already feel a headache starting. He'd gone out 'shopping' without a glamour specifically so that reporters could ask questions about his 'relationship' with Draco, now that it had been confirmed for a couple of weeks, but it was still bloody exhausting.

"Boyfriend," he corrected (for probably the third time that week), rolling his eyes. "It's not a dirty word."

"No comments on how he's a Death Eater?" another reporter pressed.

"Former Death Eater. Voldemort is dead, and Draco was acquitted. And I testified in his trial on his behalf — that's all anyone needs to know."

"But—" 

"Listen, am I going to be able to go about my business or not?" Harry's patience was already running terribly thin, and honestly, fuck the questions from the press. Why did he ever think this was a good idea anyway?

He could practically hear Draco's 'I told you so' already. Ugh, he really hated when Draco turned out to be right.

Harry brushed past the reporters and ducked into the nearest shop.

"Hello, how can I⁠— Oh! You're Harry Potter!"

The older wizard behind the counter fluttered his hands about like he didn't know quite what to do with himself.

"What an honour to meet you! I must say, I never really expected you to set foot in my shop. Well, how can I help you today? Are you looking for anything in particular?"

Harry grimaced at the fawning and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Erm, not really, sorry. I wasn't really heading any place in particular, I just stopped in."

"My my, this is a treat then! For both of us! Don't be shy; something must have led you in here! Cartwright's Chains and Charms has all the finest jewellery around. Craftsmanship you just can't find other places these days, you know!"

Harry thought he sounded like he was quoting straight from an advert, but he didn't want to be rude, so he hesitantly stepped forward to look at one of the cases.

"Oh, so you're interested in a ring, hm? Well let's hear about the lucky lady! She must be something quite special for you to be buying a ring so quickly!"

Harry blushed, holding his hands out. "No, no, there's no lady, I'm not looking for any—" his eye caught a simple gold band with a smooth, round jade stone in the centre, and studded all around with tiny inset white pearls. He bit his lip and glanced back out the window at the reporters still gathered outside.

The man had obviously assumed he was shopping for an engagement ring, and he could only assume the press would think so too if they saw him actually purchase one. 

He and Draco hadn't ever talked about it, but Harry could only assume that a fake engagement would be taking things way too far. Hell, he didn't think he could handle the stress of that. 

And then there was the fact that their relationship had already become so blurry since that first night they'd slept together. Harry didn't know what would be considered crossing a line at this point. Sure, they weren't actually dating, but they spent most of their time together, and they'd still been hooking up occasionally, and they kissed sometimes, even when nobody was around to see. To be honest, it kind of hurt Harry's brain to try to think about what exactly they were to each other, but surely a small gift was in those bounds?