Standing in the ready room of the church, Harry Potter pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched up his eyes before replacing his glasses. Although his head felt like Hagrid had stomped on it, he had to hand it to Fred and George; they really knew how to throw a bachelor party. And what a party it had been! A rented room at The Three Broomsticks had been transformed into a Sultan's bedroom, complete with big squishy floor pillows and veiled serving girls. Oh yes, they'd planned it as carefully as war-time generals. And Harry's only task in this operation had been to get the groom there unaware of his fate. Harry chuckled lightly at the look on Ron's face when he entered the room and Fred had conjured a turban on his head.

The serving girls had brought him drink after drink. Ale, Stout, Firewhiskey, it didn't matter, he'd drunk more than usual and had been rewarded with the mother of all hangovers. But all in all it had been worth it. The twins had done the usual rude pranks and had somehow managed to procure a few Tracy Lord videos, but their piece de la resistance had been an extremely endowed stripper.

She had been dressed as a harem girl, complete with gauzy purple flowing veil and matching sequined pants and bra. The exotic dancer had bumped and ground her way around the group, flinging a veil off before each man, then before giving him a short bawdy lap dance. Her dark hair danced in the candlelight as she shimmied her hips and tinkled her finger bells in a dance as old as the ages. Pausing before Harry, she had just given him a wink, and then proceeded to Ron. She had removed her bra at this point, and the red-head had almost stopped breathing by the time she was finished.

Fred had started it, of course.

Harry had laughed off the good-natured teasing about being skipped by saying that she must've been tired and wanted to get to Ron to finish up. He flinched slightly as he remembered Ron's last laughing comment. "Harry, it's those vibes you give out. You know, the gay vibes."

He'd looked at Ron in confusion until he continued. "It's not like we all don't know that you prefer the blokes to the lasses," the red-head had slurred. "But Harry," he said as he slung his arm around his best friend's shoulders, his turban slanting dangerously on his head, I don't really care who you're with, even a troll or a centaur, but try not to end up with someone like that little poof down at Hermione's hairdressers."

The memory fading from his mind, Harry looked over at his best friend. Ron was sitting on the window ledge, cradling his head in his hands. He looked pale and tired and Harry wondered idly if he even remembered anything from last night. The dark-haired man leaned over an asked softly, "Alright there, Ron?"

Ron turned his head carefully and looked blearily at his friend. "Not so loud, Harry. My head is killing me," he whimpered.

"Didn't you take a hangover potion?" Harry asked quietly.

"I did, but Mum's aren't as good as Hermione's." Ron groaned.

"Here, take two of these," Harry replied as he pulled a small tin from his pants pocket and offered it to Ron.

"What's that?"

"Old Muggle remedy, aspirin," his best man explained.

The red head grimaced as he dry swallowed two of the pills. He handed back the tin and then looked quizzically at Harry. "What's the string for Harry?" he asked gesturing toward his friend's hand.

"Oh, this," Harry said, as he fiddled with the small string tied in a bow around his pinky. "It's a Muggle thing to help you remember, and after last night, I wanted to be sure to bring the rings," he explained.

"Hermione'd kill you, if you forgot."

"Yeah." Harry pulled the string off his finger, tied it around the rings and put them back in his pocket and smirked at his friend. "I won't forget."

Harry examined the pitiful figure sitting hunched over before him, his freckled fingers threaded through his red hair. He'd been angry with Ron before, but truth be told, he was more hurt than angry. Ron's words hadn't been off the mark, but with a life ruled by secrets that he'd never been told, Harry had wanted to keep this one thing quiet. His aggravation was only lessened by Ron's troll-sized hang-over.

Ron finally lifted his head from his hands as he felt Harry's eyes upon him.

"Harry, I'm sorry," he croaked as he looked at him. "I thought that you knew that everyone knew that…that you're gay."

Harry only stared at him.

"Mate, I'm really sorry, I guess I drank too much and …I should have kept my mouth shut. I'm a right arse," he finished sadly.

"That you are," Harry said softly, walking over and wrapping his arms around his friend in a bear hug.

"Eurgh, Harry, ger'off, 'Mione'd be mad if you rub off on me," Ron laughed, as he gently pushed his friend's arms off him.


"You know, the gay cooties…" Ron tried to say as Harry smacked him on his arm and laughed.

"You're a complete arse Ron,"

"Yup, I am." Ron grinned, "Alright then?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "But, just don't go on about it, okay?"

The men were interrupted as the door to the church opened and Fred popped his head in. "Ready to tie the knot, Ronniekins?

Ron only grinned and rose, then headed toward the door with Harry only a step behind.

Harry took his place beside Ron as the music started. He followed Ron's gaze at a glowing Hermione walking slowly down the aisle, a vision in white, her long curly hair swept up under her veil, a few tendrils cascading around her face. He smiled at his friends' happiness, but he really wanted to smile at only one person in the church.

The church was packed and Harry finally saw him in the second pew from the back. Grinning, he waited until the blond noticed his gaze. Malfoy winked, and mouthed "Your hair," and mimicked patting it down. Harry smiled back, reached up, and smoothed his hair down. He put his hand back in his pocket and felt the rings tied together with the string. His mind wandered back to this morning before the wedding when he was dressing; how Malfoy had watched him with hot and hungry eyes as he put on his tuxedo. Harry had only asked one thing of him.

Draco had smirked at Harry as he tied the small white string around his boyfriend's pinky. He'd cocked an eyebrow as Harry had explained why he wanted him to do that one small task.

"I don't see how a string will help you remember," the blond had said quizzically before asking, "Why not just use a Remembrall?" But just the same, he had done as Harry had requested, and more. He'd lifted Harry's hand to his lips and gently kissed the tip of Harry's finger, his tongue barely touching the pad. That one small digit had been sucked gently before Draco pulled it from his mouth across his cheek, leaving a wet trail behind, until Harry cupped the back of his head with his hand. Draco hooked a finger into Harry's cummerbund, then voraciously pulled him into a hungry kiss, and slowly pressed up against him until he had Harry's complete and undivided attention, and greedily ground into him.

Draco had broken the kiss, leaving him flushed and breathless. Stepping back and gazing at the aroused wizard before him, he had winked, and then given the green-eyed man a brief peck on the lips before murmuring against his ear, his warm breath sending little shivers down Harry's spine.

"I'll see you after the wedding. I've got to run; Hermione and the girls are waiting for me to do their hair and makeup." With that, Draco grabbed his jacket from the chair and pulled it on. He brushed an invisible piece of lint from his jacket and picked up an extremely well-stuffed black duffle bag. With a slight turn and a pop he vanished from Harry's flat, leaving Harry and not-so-little Harry hungry for more.

Harry still felt a stab of desire, even now, standing in the church. Turning his attention to the happy couple, Harry could only pray that the ceremony would be over soon.


The reception hall had been done up in the usual wedding frippery. White balloons bobbed along side paper wedding bells and streamers that had been hung across the ceiling. A long table had been placed at the front of the hall with a lavish seven tier wedding cake at one end, and at the other, plates of assorted meats and cheese. Off to the left was a small bar offering wine and champagne for the adults and punch for the children. Round tables with white tablecloths and centerpieces of lilies and roses surrounded the dance area. A three piece band was playing soft dance tunes on the right.

Harry grinned as he surveyed the room. Hermione had done her best to mix the best of both worlds. The Wizarding guests were able to see the floating flowers drifting lazily about the room and the darkening sky through the ceiling. He wondered idly if anyone would think it was odd that there were two photographers here. Colin had begged to be allowed to take the wedding pictures, but Hermione, in her cautiousness, had insisted on a Muggle photographer, too. Harry supposed they would be in soon as they were taking the couple shots now. He looked around the rapidly filling room for Draco. It seemed as if Hermione had invited half of the free Muggle world to her reception. Sighing, he sat down at the nearest table, figuring that his boyfriend would be along shortly.


Three glasses of punch, two red wines, and one glass of champagne later, Harry was still waiting for Draco to appear. Standing near the bar, he had just about given up hope when he felt two strong arms wrap themselves around his waist, and the faint ghosting of Draco's breath against the nape of his neck.

"Found you," Draco drawled his voice low and hot against his skin.

Harry almost dropped his glass, the champagne slopping over the edge and splashing his shoe. He nervously pushed Draco's arms from around his waist and hissed at the blond as he turned, "Not here, there's too many people."

A brief look of confusion crossed the blond's face to be replaced with one of chagrin that morphed into one of indignation. His eyes flashed with anger before he spat back.

"What do you mean, there's too many people?"

"Draco," Harry said soothingly, and then sighed. "I don't know…what if they're watching?" the brunette said, embarrassment filling his voice as he set the champagne glass on a nearby table.

"Who gives a rat's arse if "they" see?" the blond hissed, his face contorting with anger.

He glared at Harry, the silence growing between them. "Listen Harry, I'm not your dirty little secret," Draco said in a low hard voice, each word punctuated with a poke of his finger to Harry's chest.

"No one knows that I'm…you know," Harry stammered, lowering his eyes and taking a half step back.

"And no one ever will," the blond spat.

Draco waited for the brunette's reply, his fury growing with each passing second. He knew that Harry wanted to be with him, but he also knew that he had lived with enough secrets and half-truths as a child and he'd never live like that again. This was the choice he'd made.

With still no reply from Harry, Draco finally threw his hands up in exasperation. "Oh fuck, I give up," the blond said as he turned on his heel, and stormed off into the crowd.

Harry stood in shocked silence as he watched his boyfriend disappear in the throngs of people. "Malfoy, wait!" he shouted and then ran to catch up with the blond. Pushing past a group of gossiping women, he gasped and his eyes nearly fell out of his head. He'd found Draco alright, a flustered Draco that had Ron Weasley's arm around his shoulder in a friendly, drunken hug.

"Hey Harry," Ron said happily. "This here's my favorite lil' poof. Aren't you?" he slurred as he planted a wet sloppy kiss on Malfoy's cheek.

"Weasley, you're drunk," Malfoy declared as he wiped the slobber from his cheek, his lip curling in a sneer.

"Damn straight I'm drunk," Ron drawled happily. "'Mione said I could drink all I wanted 'cause she's given me a bottle of Slober, err…Slobber…Sober-Up potion," Ron finally enunciated as he pulled a small green bottle from his pocket.

"Well, you'd better take it mate, she's on her way over here," Harry said grinning, with a thumb jerk over his shoulder.

Ron fumbled with the stopper, finally pulling it out with his teeth. Gulping down the potion, he grimaced, and then turned to greet his new wife with a wide smile. "Hermione, love…" Ron started to say, sounding quite normal.

"Ronald Weasley, I've been looking all over for you. The photographers are ready and everyone's waiting, you've got to toss the garter now," she said breathlessly. Hermione grabbed Ron around the arm and started to pull him away.

"Harry, Malfoy, come on," Ron called over his shoulder as he was being pulled away by a very impatient bride.

Harry looked at Draco; shrugged, then cocked his head in invitation. Draco gave him an odd look, but walked with him anyway.

"Draco, look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that…you just caught me by surprise, and…" Harry started to apologize.

"Don't worry, Potter, I won't embarrass you anymore tonight," Draco said flatly, his blue-grey eyes darkening. "I'll be very proper the rest of the evening."

Harry started to open his mouth to reply, but decided it was better to let it drop for the moment. It wasn't that he didn't care for Draco, but he just wasn't quite ready to express his affection for the blond publicly. They'd only been together a few short weeks, but with Draco, he'd found something he'd always wanted, something he craved, something that was quickly becoming an addiction. With every taste and touch of Draco it was like he'd taken a drug, the rush so intense and electrifying that his very skin pulsed at the mere thought of it. And like cocaine to a junkie, there was never enough to satisfy his appetite.

Harry and Draco joined the other unmarried men surrounding the bride and groom. Harry laughed as Ron pushed the dress up and slid his hand slowly up Hermione's leg with a lecherous look on his face. Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair and swatted good-naturedly at Ron as he tickled her thigh. Grinning, Ron finally pulled the silky blue garter down her leg to the good-natured teasing coming from the crowd.

"Nice legs for a Mud…Muggleborn," Draco observed, a smirk flitting across his lips.

Harry glanced quickly at Draco. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes roamed over the blond appreciatively. He hadn't really paid any attention to what Draco was wearing earlier, but now, he found that clothes really did make the man. Draco had vainly admitted earlier in the week that he wore black to set off the silvery blond of his hair and the old fashioned waistcoat did just that. The jacket was embroidered with small dragons in a shiny black thread circling the collar and down the front edges; small silver clasps had replaced the buttons that were normally found on that kind of jacket.

Harry nodded and smiled at the blond standing there, arms crossed over his chest with a look of indifference on his face. Turning back around, he gave a small salute to Fred and Dean Thomas, and a chaser from the Ravenclaw team he recognized, but whose name he couldn't remember, but gave him a friendly wave anyway.

Ron finished with smoothing down Hermione's dress, stood up and yelled, "Ready!" With that he pulled the garter back like a rubber band and shot it over his shoulder into the crowd behind him. The small silky scrap of material flew over the hands of the ex-beater, the ex-chaser, and through the fingers of the youngest Seeker in a hundred years to land in the middle of the crossed arms of Draco Malfoy.

Harry turned and caught the odd expression on the blond's face.

"Quaint things, these Muggle customs," Draco said in a silky tone so eerily reminiscent of Lucius that it gave Harry a spike of fear in his gut. He raised a pale eyebrow at Harry and then put the garter in his pocket. A small smile spread across his face as he reached out and gently touched Harry's forearm. "Look, go and sit with your friends, I'll bring you a drink and get us a few nibbles. Alright?" he asked.

Harry nodded happily, grateful that for now, Draco was not too terribly pissed off at him.


Harry started as a low voice drawled in his ear. "Mind if I join you, Potter"

Turning and gazing warily up at the blond next to him, "Sure, whatever," he replied with forced nonchalance.

Malfoy set his plate of goodies and two glasses of wine on the table and slid smoothly into the chair next to Harry.

"George, Angelina, you remember Draco Malfoy from school? He was in my year."

"Potter, I'm quite sure Weasley remembers me."

Draco smirked as a pink tinge spread across his boyfriend's cheeks. Draco leaned closer to Harry so he could politely shake Angelina's hand across the table.

"But this lovely lady might not. Draco Malfoy, at your service, darling."

"Oh, how sweet of you," Angelina giggled. I have to tell you Draco, Hermione looked absolutely gorgeous! You've definitely got the touch,"

The blond smiled at the compliment and inched a little closer to Harry in an obvious effort to hear George's wife better. He nodded at her prattling while making small sounds of agreement.

Keeping a pleasantly bland smile on his face, Draco slid his hand under the drape of the tablecloth and inched his way up Harry's leg. He glanced quickly at the brunette to see if he had his attention and then squeezed lightly. A grin twitched at his lips as he felt a familiar firmness start to grow. Disowned or not, Draco was a Malfoy through and through. And Malfoys always got what they wanted, when they wanted it, whether anyone else wanted it or not.

The darkening flush on Harry's cheeks spurred the blond on. Sliding his hand up a little further, he thumbed the zip down and snaked his hand in between the open zip and button. Draco softly stroked little Harry who was well on his way to be coming hungry, hungry Harry.

"Oh yes, dear, I really think you ought to try the bronze highlights in your hair. It'll definitely bring out your skin tone," Draco replied smoothly keeping the conversation going, while trying not to snigger at the brunette next to him.

Harry's hand trembled as he reached for his glass of wine. He managed to turn his gasp into a low grunt when Draco ran his finger across the twins. (And yes, Harry had names for his bits.) He managed to bring it to his lips and take a small sip before he choked and coughed spraying red wine down his shirt and across the table.

Harry wiped the wine from his mouth with the back of his hand with a sheepish look. Draco's finger was now stroking him between the twins and his entrance, the gentle scrape of Draco's fingernail with every other stroke building a burning heat low in his belly.

"Potter, you alright there?" Draco asked in mock concern, his fingers continuing their teasing and stroking beneath the table. With his free hand, he plucked the glass from Harry's hand and placed it on the table. "You've spilt wine on your shirt there. "

Harry only grunted in reply, his attention elsewhere at the moment.

"Look, I've got a spell that'll take care of that stain, but we shouldn't do it out here where Hermione's Muggles will see. Come on, now, before it sets in," Draco said, withdrawing his hand and zipping Harry up.

Harry stood up and buttoned his tux jacket, making sure he to tug it down, because it just wouldn't do to walk around with a huge stiffy. Draco flashed a brilliant smile at the table's occupants before turning to follow his awkwardly walking boyfriend towards the restrooms.

George watched the two men disappear from sight before catching Ron's eye and giving him the OK sign with his thumb and forefinger. Grinning, the red-head definitely wanted Ron to be there when the two returned.

Harry pulled Draco into the hallway leading to the restrooms, the dimness affording them a measure of privacy. Roughly he shoved the blond up against the wall and kissed him deeply, his hands settling on Draco's firm arse. Draco instinctively tangled one hand in Harry's tousled locks as Harry pulled him into a tight embrace. Draco broke the kiss, catching Harry's bottom lip with his teeth as he pushed away from him.

"Ah, ah, ah, Potter," Draco drawled, waving his finger before Harry's face. This is a wedding, and proper decorum should be maintained at all times." All the while his one hand had tightened its grip in the dark tangled locks. Pulling Harry's head back, he nipped at the tan flesh under Harry's ear before trailing his tongue around and in the shell of his ear. "But, this isn't the time," he whispered seductively.

Angling his body, so that Harry was forced into the corner of the hallway, Draco thrust himself against a familiar hardness, smirking wickedly at the low moans issuing from his lover as he sucked at a soft patch of skin behind the dark-haired man's ear.

Harry whimpered as Draco undid his button to his pants and tugged the zip down, his hand caressing him slowly, but firmly, pausing only to rub a thumb over the slick top.

"Draco," Harry gasped between waves of pleasure, "Let's go home…now…for Gods' sake."

The heat coming off Harry would have started a forest fire, but Draco planned to fan the flames even higher. He slid his hand away from Harry and reached into his pocket bringing out the silky, blue garter he'd caught earlier that night.

"I've got a present, no, a reminder for you love," Draco whispered, as he wrapped the garter around not-so-little Harry; the silky coolness of the material drawing the fire from Harry's skin. "I want you to remember this…time…this moment we're together, and how right it feels."

Harry shivered as Draco's hand never stopped its torturous motion, his warm breath curling in his ear, and the words of his lover echoing through to his soul. "I…I won't forget," Harry stammered.

"If you do, Harry, I'll be gone," Draco stated in a low silky voice that brooked no qualms as he continued his exploration of his boyfriend's arse. Draco gazed at the crimson face of his boyfriend, and watched as a small drop of sweat trickled down his flushed face. Slowly the blond trailed his other hand down Harry's chest, caressing him as he knelt down before the brunette. His soft hair tickled Harry's belly as he laid his face upon him, his cool breath puffing across his hot skin. He adjusted the garter a little closer to Harry's groin and resumed his idle stroking, back and forth and around and felt Harry's hands creep into his hair.

The blond could tell that Harry was oh so close and he knew he had to finish him off quickly. Pressing a soft kiss to lover's belly, he whispered as he wrapped his arms around him, "You need to make a choice Harry, how you truly want to live, not what you think the others want."

Draco hugged Harry once more and then rose to his feet. Harry drew him close and lay his forehead on Draco's, his unsteady breathing ghosting his face. The former Slytherin reached down and tugged up the zip on the brunette's now too tight trousers. He lifted his eyes from his task expecting to see Harry's half-shut eyes peeking out from beneath his dark lashes instead he saw Harry's eyes open wide in a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Boys!" A shrill voice echoed down the hallway. "You're not fighting, are you?" Not pausing for an answer, " You're much too old to be acting that way, and at Ronald's wedding!" Molly Weasley exclaimed, winding herself up for a full-blown rant.

Draco winked at the flustered wizard before turning his head to look over his shoulder at the mother of the groom. "Oh no, Mrs. Weasley," Draco purred silkily, his hand carding through the tangles in Harry's hair. I'm just discussing what I'd like to do with Harry's hair next time he stops in the shop."

Molly studied the boys owlishly, taking in Harry's disheveled appearance and red face, and Draco's mussed hair, before wobbling her way towards the loo. An amused look spread across her face; she turned with a wicked smirk and said, "Draco, dear, if you can't tame that mess, no one else can," before slipping inside the washroom.

Draco exhaled slowly, the sound breaking the silence between the two men. Harry reached up and drew Draco's head toward his own until their foreheads were just touching. Carefully tracing the blond's cheekbone with one finger, Harry kissed him.

"Draco," Harry whispered against the pale lips.

"What?" Draco murmured.

"Quite the mood-buster, eh?"

Draco laughed shakily, as he stepped back and took Harry's hand in his and gave it a firm squeeze. "Look, say your good-byes, and I'll meet you back at the flat in about thirty minutes or so."

"No, we'll make our good-byes together," Harry said in a firm voice.

The blond smiled and let Harry lead him out of the hallway back into the wedding reception. A smirk twitched across his lips as he watched the dark-haired man adjust himself discretely before heading back across the room to their table and then to find Ron and Hermione.

Harry walked toward the table, anxious to have the leave-taking over, and was surprised to find Ron had joined George and Angelina. The groom turned and eyed the couple suspiciously as they came closer. He frowned slightly as he caught Harry's gaze with his own.

Harry glanced down at their clasped hands before returning Ron's stare. He shifted nervously as he waited for Ron's reaction to the slender pale hand joined with his own. Ron's eyes widened slightly and then he smiled.

"I guess you finally realized that I don't care who you're with, Harry. I just want you to be happy for once."

Harry released Draco's hand and put his arm around the blond's waist pulling him closer. He could only stare at Ron in confusion before a coherent thought finally came to him.

"I thought you said you were okay with anyone except for that little poof down at Hermione's hairdressers?"

"I am. Malfoy's alright now. I meant that little dark-headed bloke that pulls his hair back so tight that his eyes are just about to pop out of his head, what's 'is name," Ron replied.

"Oh you mean Ramon. He's going through an Asian phase right now," Draco interjected, hooking his fingers for punctuation.

A look of amazement spread across Harry's face at the civil conversation between his boyfriend and his best friend.

"I thought you hated Draco…all the shite in school…"

"Nah, I'm not mad at him anymore. I have to admit though, when I first met up with him in his shop, it was just to take the piss out of him because he wasn't all high and mighty."

"Well, whatever changed your mind Weasley?" Draco asked, his brow now wrinkled in confusion.

"Well, I wanted a trim and, he gave me this shampoo. You just can't stay mad at a bloke when he makes a shampoo feel like sex in a sink. I mean, it just felt so good, his hands just rubbing and massaging my scalp, and the warm water running across my head," Ron finished with a far away look in his eyes.

Draco took the opportunity to smirk at Harry in a Slytherin sort of way. "Anything else?" he prodded.

"Well I felt so good after that. I didn't much care what he did with my hair, so I just sat there waiting and he gave me this great crème rinse…"

Ron never got to finish his sentence as the two men burst into peals of laughter.

"What'd I say? What'd I say?"