"Don't laugh!" Draco shouted through the door of their bedroom.
He rolled his eyes and turned the page of his quidditch magazine. "Draco, I never laugh at your new clothes," he called back. It was true, he didn't, Draco sometimes picked the loudest, most ostentatious patterns imaginable; sometimes he picked cloaks that changed color based on his mood; once, memorably, he'd even found a hat with enormous peacock feathers. He'd never laughed, because he understood that clothes were an outlet for Draco, a way of being who he felt like he was on the inside. "I promise," he added.
When the door didn't open after a few more moments of silence, Harry set down his magazine, "Draco?"
"Yes," the other man said through the door. "Yes, coming."
The door opened a crack but Draco didn't emerge, "Promise," he said. "Swear on our marriage and our nonexistent children that you won't laugh."
"Baby," he said, standing from the couch and moving toward the door. "I promise. I won't laugh."
"Sit down," Draco said, peaking around the corner, just his forehead and eyes visible. "Sit down and close your eyes. I can't do it if you're looking at me."
He frowned but did as Draco asked.
The door creaked as it opened the rest of the way, and the sound of Draco's bare feet padding across the floor made the pit of Harry's stomach warm. He could feel Draco's presence in front of him, knowing that his husband was standing there looking at him, weighing him.
"Babe," he said, holding his hands out and waiting for Draco's to fill them. His fingers clasped Harry's, shaking just a little. "Hey," he said softly, "I love you. All of you. I'm not going to laugh."
After a shaking exhale, Draco gave Harry's hands a squeeze and took a step back, "Open your eyes," he murmured.
Harry was not in any way prepared for the sight before him. Draco was wearing a simple green dress, a low v-neck with thin straps, it was fitted through the bust and cinched at the waist. The whole dress was layered with chiffon that gave it a soft, dreamy quality; the skirt was full and with the layers of chiffon, Harry knew it would flare out if he twirled. He swallowed, "Wow," he managed after a moment.
"It's a lot, I know-" Draco started, tucking a strand of hair back behind his ear, "and I-"
"You look fucking gorgeous," Harry interrupted. "Let me see the back?"
Slowly, Draco turned, showing Harry an equally deep v in the back with a crisscross of thin straps that helped to keep the top of the dress tight to his torso. All of the freckles he'd gotten in the sun on their vacation last month were a stark contrast to the pale of his skin.
"You look amazing," he said again as Draco turned to face him once more.
Draco ducked his head, cheeks flushed a lovely pink. Harry was about to ask him to do a real spin so he could admire the skirt when Draco blurted, "I don't think I'm always a boy."
He blinked but before he could say anything, Draco continued.
"And I don't think I'm a girl," he said uncertainly. "I just," he shrugged, helplessly, eyes welling up with tears, "I think there's something broken inside of me," he whispered.
"Oh," Harry said, standing and pulling him into his arms, "sweetheart, no." He kissed Draco's temple, "there's nothing wrong with you. It's alright," he added, mentally thanking Ginny for the lecture she'd given him three years ago about one of her nonbinary team mates. "Maybe you're just nonbinary. It's alright," he repeated, holding Draco's trembling body closer.
"You thought you married a man," Draco blurted as he clung to Harry's jumper, face hidden against his shoulder. "I don't-"
"Hey," he said softly, pulling back a bit so that he could meet Draco's eyes, "sweetheart," he murmured, heart aching with the thought that Draco might have been keeping this from him because he was afraid of how Harry might react. "I love you. It doesn't matter to me what you identify as, it won't change that I love you. I love the person you are," he said, "Everything else is just how you get to feel comfortable in your own skin. I want you to be happy."
"I don't know who I am," Draco whispered.
He nodded and pressed a kiss to Draco's forehead, "I'd like to be with you while you find out, if you'll let me?"
Draco swallowed, gaze flickering between Harry's eyes, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, love. I'm positive."
Slowly Draco nodded, "I'd like that."
He kissed Draco's cheek, "Can I admire you in your new dress a little more?"
With a shy little smile that Harry utterly adored, Draco nodded and stepped back, wiping his eyes.
"Well, give us a proper spin, then," Harry said.
Draco spun and the skirt flared, twirling around as Draco laughed, face open and radiant in a way that Harry wasn't sure he'd ever seen.
"I should take you out," Harry said, capturing him in his spinning and pulling Draco into his arms again before starting to dance around the living room. "We should go out dancing."
Draco shook his head, "what would people say?"
"That you're gorgeous," he said, "but respectfully because if they didn't say it respectfully, I'd punch them."
"Harry," Draco sighed, "the press-"
"What if we went to a muggle place?" he interrupted because he knew that Draco was right but he didn't want Draco to think there was anything that Harry was ashamed of about this. "Just until you feel more confident in who you are? What if we go out and experiment together? Give you a chance to feel comfortable in your skin before we let the world know?" He tucked a strand of hair behind Draco's ear, "I want to show you off," he added, knowing how Draco loved to be seen in his new things, "you deserve to be admired in this beautiful dress."
"Are you sure?" he asked. And in the question Harry heard a thousand other insecurities.
"I've never been more sure of anything than I am of you," he replied, holding Draco's gaze with his own. "You are the love of my life. No matter what. I love you and I just want you to love you as much as I do."
