A/N: We've had loads of fun with this and we love you all, thanks for your reads and reviews and praise and criticism.


As soon as Draco locked the door to their room behind them, Harry fell apart in giggles. "Did you see their faces?" Throwing off his dinner jacket, he jumped onto the bed and kicked off his shoes. "It was like they'd never seen a gay man before."

Draco joined him. "We're going to face it everywhere, you know."

"Together." The grin on Harry's face was unmistakable. "I don't care what any of them say. You're mine. Property of Harry Potter," he mimicked, earning a playful shove from Draco.

"That doesn't mean I'm going to bottom," Draco warned.

Harry laughed. "So... when do we get to shop for rings?"

"Well, I actually sort of bought yours already," Draco admitted unblushingly, drawing a little ivory box out of his open suitcase.

"Snake. You were planning this all along." A grin still danced on Harry's face.
"I was not," Draco said indignantly, "but I thought I ought to bring it along just incase the mood struck me to propose during our little excursion."


"Well what?"

"Show it to me!"

"Oh." Draco smiled and unhinged the box. Inside was a thick band of metal-- the top half gold, the bottom half platinum-- with intertwined strands of ruby and emerald snaking their way around the ring.

Harry smiled. "Inter-house unity?"

Draco kissed him on the cheek. "In a way I'm sure Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor never imagined."

Smiling, Harry pulled him in for another kiss, and another, and soon the open ring box lay forgotten on the nightstand as articles of clothing were tossed to the side.


When Draco had spent himself inside of Harry, and Harry inside of Draco, and they both lay on the bed uncovered and satisfied, Harry felt a surge of love inside him. He imagined the design he would order from the engraver tomorrow; a lightning bolt meeting a dragon on a dark platinum band.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco's finger moved lazily across Harry's forehead, brushing hair from his sweaty skin.

"Nothing," Harry lied, and rolled over to give him a kiss. "So when shall we set the date?"

Draco's eyes were lit by passion. "Let's do it here."

"Here? In Italy?"

"Yes. You know if we do it back home it will just be a great big mess."

Harry thought of Hermione, and reckoned a few of his closest friends would be caught between supporting Harry or sticking up for his ex-wife. I don't want to put them through that. "That's true."

"So let's do it here. Just a small ceremony. Just us. That's all we need, anyway."

Harry gathered up his hand and kissed his knuckles. "Just us," he murmured.

Draco bent forward so that their foreheads touched, and Harry shivered as a lock of Draco's hair brushed against his scar. They drifted off to sleep, their nude forms bathed in moonlight, lapped by waves of contentment.


The fragrance of lilacs and jasmine filled the balmy evening air with a subtle sweetness. It matched the mood of the lovers who stood breathless with anticipation in the Giardini del Bussolari, gazing out over the expanse of dazzling blue, dressed in their best suits.

Draco had worn white. "Someone ought to be the bride," he jested, "and I don't feel like wearing black. Black is for funerals and mourning. This is the happiest day of my life."

Laughingly, Harry had told him he ought to get a veil, then kissed him fiercely before they left the villa.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here..."

Draco and Harry stood facing each other, dark shapes against the bright red of the sunset, their eyes locked together. The light cast shadows on Draco's pale face, defining his sharp cheekbones, making his hair radiate like spun gold. Harry thought he'd never seen anything more perfect, more beautiful, more reassuring.

Meanwhile, Draco was finding it impossible to suppress a grin. Before, he hadn't had the ability to smile genuinely. There was no reason to, no freedom to. But with Harry, pure joy had permeated his being, and there was no holding back his happiness.

And now, he would have it forever.

"Repeat after me." The aged priest smiled at Draco. "I, Draco Abraxas Malfoy..."

"I, Draco Abraxas Malfoy..." His heart danced in his chest.

"Take you, Harry James Potter..."

Harry's grin was infectious, and Draco almost let out a gleeful laugh. "Take you, Harry James Potter." Instinctively, he grabbed for Harry's hands.

"As my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to honor and obey, for as long as we both shall live."

Draco repeated the vow, his smile spreading from ear to ear, and gave Harry's hands a squeeze. From his pocket, he pulled out the ring, and slid it onto Harry's fourth finger.

"Now you. I, Harry James Potter..."

"I, Harry James Potter..." He bit his lip in anticipation.

"Take you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy..."

Harry felt like he was in the cradle of heaven. "Take you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy... oh, I know the rest. As my lawfully wedded husband—" he squeezed Draco's hands tightly—"to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to honor and obey, for as long as we both shall live!" He produced the ring he'd ordered a few days earlier, which shone in the light, and slipped it onto Draco's finger.

Draco laughed. "Eager?"

"I love you so much," Harry whispered.

The priest smiled. "Well then, I shan't hold you up. I now pronounce you married. You may kiss."

Almost before he'd uttered the last word, Draco had Harry in his arms, pressing their lips together, his hand in Harry's feathered hair. The sun slipped below the horizon as the priest blessed them and made his way out of the gardens, the last soft rays of twilight crowning both men with a glimmering halo as they pressed together for one last kiss, the outlines of their bodies merging, so that any passerby would have thought them to be one being.

As they were.


"Off," whispered Draco immediately, throwing the keys to their villa on the dresser. He grabbed for Harry's jacket, leaving it with his own in a crumpled pile on the floor, pulling him to the bed.

Harry could have reached the blinds, but he felt that it was appropriate to leave them open. To let the stars be their canopy. Tonight, the little pinpricks of light in the sky danced in celebration, sparkling for them alone.

Draco's lips found their way to Harry's in the near-dark as his fingers fumbled urgently with the buttons on Draco's dress shirt.

"I'm shaking. Look at my hands. Why am I so nervous?"
"You're adorable," Draco said, clasping his trembling hands in his own steady ones.

"Don't say things like that to me, or I'll think I married someone else," Harry chastised with a smile.

"I can be sweet." He brought his lips down to kiss Harry's fingertips.

"Yes, I suppose you can." Steady now, he removed Draco's shirt from his torso. "Now me," he pleaded, "me..."

Draco obliged, swiftly undoing the buttons and casting his shirt to the floor. Without missing a beat, he unfastened the clasp on Harry's pants and sent them to join the shirt, followed soon after by his boxers.

Responding to the hungry look in his husband's eyes—my husband, Harry thought, with a surge of joy—he moved to reciprocate, and sent Draco's clothes to the floor with his own. Almost involuntarily, Harry's hands charted a course across Draco's cool skin. He let them wander under their own volition, searching, feeling, exploring, and Draco dissolved into bliss and back again as goosebumps prickled at his skin.

He closed his eyes, losing himself to Harry's hands, and gave a little start as his firm, possessive lips touched down on his shoulder, capturing folds of skin between them, moving up to the neck, the ear…

A soft moan escaped his lips as Harry nibbled playfully at his earlobe, making the little hairs on his neck stand at attention, obeying the order to send a shock of desire through his already-yearning body. He undulated on the clean white cotton of the bedclothes, every atom of his being longing for Harry, longing for possession.

"Harry…" It was a plea.

The corners of his mouth curved upward. "I thought you weren't going to bottom?"

"So I lied." He returned the smile and reached out to his husband, curling his fingers around his hard length. "How about it?"

"I will. Patience, love."

Draco settled back into the down pillows, satisfied with the answer, and watched a cloud reveal the glowing moon, white with celestial light. Harry came over him again, slowly kissing his way up Draco's pale, toned body, sending quivers of excitement through his veins as he turned his attention from the knees to the inner thighs…

He let a breath out he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and watched Harry trail his way up the side of his pelvis and up his stomach, his chest; he trembled with the most delightful ache as Harry dropped kisses like raindrops on his shoulders. Then, finally, he pressed his mouth to Draco's, the sweetest of all cocktails, tongues tangling in a desperate love.

The blanket half-covered them; Draco held Harry by the arms and delved into the crook of his neck, pulling skin into his mouth, making Harry writhe with equal amounts of love and lust.

It's a good mix tonight, thought Harry, as Draco devoured any self-control he might have had left. Time to enjoy the ride.

"Turn over," he whispered softly, and Draco did so. Straddling him, he noticed how beautiful he was even from the back; the moonlight reflecting off his hair, the distinct sharpness of his shoulder blades set artfully into his broad back.

I did marry Adonis, he thought fleetingly.

"You're teasing me," complained Draco, muffled by the pillows.

"You just signed up for a lifetime of that," Harry reminded him, positioning himself.

Draco smiled. "And I couldn't be happier about it."

Carefully, slowly, Harry slid inside him, and Draco drew in a sharp breath.

Harry bent over and wrapped his arms around his husband, planting a kiss in the middle of his back. "Ready, love?"

Draco nodded. "Always."

And Harry began moving inside him.

Both men felt the same pleasure they always had, but there was something else. Something higher had been attained. As Harry gripped Draco's shoulders, as Draco reached back to feel Harry's pelvis tilt, urging him inside, something was entirely different. He turned back to drink the fire of his lover's green eyes and marveled at the ring of moonlight set upon his hair like a halo.

Angel, thought Draco briefly, before his eyelids fluttered and he gave in to Harry's thrusts, whispering to him, tensing and releasing.

"Yes, Harry… yes… come for me, come…"

Harry threw his head back and dug his fingers into Draco's hips, convulsing as he came in short streams, meeting Draco's eyes as he craned his neck to watch the climax paint his face.

Draco relaxed into the bed as Harry pulled out, handing him a towel.

"You didn't even have to Accio it," Draco remarked.

"I figured we wouldn't take the time to get ready when we got home," came Harry's reply, as he reached over to light a candle. "So I planned ahead."

"Good thing." Draco let his hand drift to Harry's midsection, gently pulling him back, dropping light kisses on his back.

Harry's eyes drifted shut. "Mmm." He nestled into the pillow, drifting into relaxation at the soft brush of Draco's lips. Then he felt a subtle little poke.

"There you are." He turned his head, offering his lips up for a kiss.

Draco obliged. "Thought I was going to let you have all the fun, did you?"

He turned fully, stretching his arms out for a hug. "I know you better than that." Letting go, he turned back, his eyes trained on the muted flickering of the flame inside its frosted glass holder.

With the utmost care, Draco slid into Harry, looping one arm around his side. His fingers found Harry's chest hair and played absently, relaxing him. Harry pressed into the curve of Draco's body, exhilarated with the love that flowed between them, just on the verge of tangible.

Draco labored with short, invigorated breaths, torn between the urge to explode and the urge to draw out the pleasure, enjoying Harry's body for as long as he could. But Harry continued to tighten, spiked by satisfaction, Draco was at the perfect angle…

"I'm not going to last long," Draco whispered, his breath warm on Harry's ear.

Harry reached back and placed his hand on Draco's thigh. "I want you to get there, love. What makes you happy makes me happy. We're one now, remember?"

With a deluge of fresh passion, Draco surged forward and captured Harry in a violent, fervent kiss. Then he pounded into him, fed by Harry's moans, driven by the twist of euphoria on his face, intoxicated by the way he pressed his ass into his pelvis, letting their skin crash together like waves on the sea.

Arching his back, Harry squeezed his eyes shut—oh, God, Draco, yes—and within seconds he was shaking like an orchid in hard rain. Draco felt the trembling and drove harder, faster…

"Harry… God, Harry, here it comes, here…" He drew in a sharp breath; his eyes focused on the candle as he shot his load inside of him, as Harry quivered with overwhelmed satisfaction, as another cloud left the moon free to stream its light through the window.

Collapsing on the bed, it was Draco's turn to hand over a towel as they pulled the blankets around them.

Flat on his back, Draco gazed up at the night sky as Harry rested his head on his shoulder, draping an arm and a leg over him. Dancing with merriment, the stars drenched them in light. Draco made to extinguish the candle, but the flame on the votive ceased to flicker and burned straight and bright.

Lazily, Draco let his fingertips flutter over Harry's scar. He shivered and drew closer.

"Life is so strange," Harry murmured into Draco's shoulder. "If someone would have told me this was going to happen when I was still in school, I think I would have either killed them or had them sent to the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's."

Draco grinned. "I would have assumed it was one of Trelawney's horrid predictions."

"If she ever saw us… connecting…"

"Maybe," Draco ventured, "that's why she was always drunk."

Harry laughed. They laid in peaceful silence for a moment, until Harry spoke.

"It seems almost odd," he mused, "to think that my scar once caused nothing but pain." His green eyes misted over with the pain of remembrance.

Draco caught him in his arms. "Nothing is going to cause you pain ever again. I swear on my life. If you hadn't already killed Voldemort, I'd stare him down and send him to hell for what he's done to you."

"Draco." Harry's voice was soft as he tilted his face up for a kiss.

"Well, I would."

"I know." Harry wrapped his arms around him. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making up for all the times I was a git to you, I promise."

Draco held him close. "There's no need. Just being here with me is enough, Harry." He looked down into Harry's eyes, and the emotion was unmistakable. "I love you."

"Oh, Draco." He kissed him once, twice, three times. "I love you too."

And they fell asleep just like that, limbs tangled, Harry's head on Draco's shoulder, fingers linked to show the stars, the moon, the universe—they were one.