“Harry, please walk me through this again,” Draco said, after taking a large gulp of tea.
“Why?” Harry asked sheepishly.
“Because I need to hear it a second time and compare your statements, so I can figure out what happened inside your brain that led to this.”
“Yes. Tell me, word for word, what I said this morning before you left for work.”
Harry swallowed. “You said, ‘Darling, bring the bonding agent on your way home.’”
“So you did hear me, and you managed to remember it, too. Well done.” Draco took a deep breath. “So why is he here?” he asked, his voice rising in pitch as he pointed at the elderly man in purple robes, who smiled gently at them from a kitchen chair.
“He’s the bonding agent.”
“Hello,” the man offered.
“Ah, ah, ah. You stay out of this,” Draco tutted, before taking Harry’s hands in his. His expression softened in a way that somehow made Harry feel worse. “You sweet thing, explain to me why you brought a Ministry officiant into our house.”
“He’s the bonding agent,” Harry repeated. “I asked Pansy what you could have meant by that, and she sent me to his office.”
“You didn’t question her? You immediately believed that was what I’d asked for?”
“Well, you love me?” Harry tried, heat creeping up his neck and firmly settling in his cheeks.
“Quite.” Draco smiled at him, honest and fond enough that Harry’s stomach gave a smitten little swoop. “Did you ask anyone else?”
“Well, yes. I asked Ron if Pansy was setting me up, because she’d been cackling, and Ron said, ‘She’d never, mate.’”
“Should I leave?” the officiant asked carefully.
“Shush,” Draco hissed at him, then turned back to Harry. “Ronald was being sarcastic, and Pansy did, in fact, set you up.”
“I was asking for a bottle of this, darling.” Draco pointed at the empty container of Apothecary's Premium Bonding Agent 460MT sitting on their kitchen table.
Harry looked at it. Then at the officiant. Then back at Draco.
“Oh,” he said again, because it seemed to cover a lot of ground.
“Gentlemen,” the officiant said, rising slowly from his chair, “if I’m not needed, this is well past my usual hours, and I’d—”He stopped when Draco pinned him in place with a glittering look.
“I’d much prefer it if you stayed a moment longer,” Draco said, still holding Harry’s hands, “and married me to this impossible man, who may, entirely by accident, have had a stroke of genius.”
—written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt "bond", 424 words