How I Met Your Father

Chapter 6

Harry rolled his eyes. "Shall I continue?"

There was no protest, so he did.

"The wedding took place late in the year. Of course, we were all pretty excited back then. But nobody guessed just how eventful it was going to be..."

~*~*~*~*~Year 6~*~*~*~*~

A lot of things happened that spring. Dani turned one. Hermione and Ron started the nursery and spent a lot of time harassing Healer Bones. Finally, the woman admitted defeat and confirmed that yes, for the thousandth time, they would be having a boy and yes, he was perfectly healthy and could she take a coffee break now, she'd been working a double shift for two weeks. The baby was due in September, precisely two months after the big wedding. That of course, was the other big thing that happened that spring.

Blaise proposed and Ginny said yes.

It wasn't easy. There was a lot of hyperventilating (Blaise) and last minute angst about making such a huge, life changing decision (Ginny). But in the end they sat down, talked and laid out the ground rules.

Blaise could keep his blog and most of his suits. However, anything that had seen the inside of a 'Gentleman's Club' had to go. Ginny wanted to take a break from work and travel for a year. Dani would go with them. Daphne— who was now settled in Chicago and moving in with a new boyfriend— had offered to keep her while the newlyweds went on their little world tour but Ginny couldn't stomach the idea of being away from her little girl for an entire year. An amused Daphne had politely withdrawn the proposal but not before telling Blaise to 'Keep this one. She's good for you.'

In short, they had decided to commit one hundred percent to 'having it all'; because they were just that awesome.

So the year came and went, bringing its surprises along the way.

But the one thing that surprised nobody was that Harry would be Blaise's Best Man.

To tell the truth, Blaise had been anxious about asking him. But Harry was his friend and more importantly, his wingman so there really was no question about it. He went ahead and asked him, the day after Ginny said yes.

"So, how about it?" Blaise asked cautiously. "I mean, I totally get it if you don't…"

"Mate," Harry grinned, pulling him into a brotherly hug. "I'd be honoured. It's you and Ginny. Of course I'll do it."

"And you're sure?" Blaise confirmed. "It's not going to be weird or uncomfortable…"

"Blaise, it's your wedding," Harry replied with an amused laugh. "Of course it's going to be weird and uncomfortable. I'm still in."

And that was that. Blaise grinned and returned the hug. "Awesome! And just you wait, Harry. This wedding is going to be legen-wait for it-dary.Legendary!"

Harry shook his head in fond exasperation, congratulated him and left. Not a second after he was gone, Blaise's Floo flared up again.

"Blaise? You there?"

Blaise whirled around and his grin widened as he caught sight of Draco's face in the fireplace. "Draco! Am I glad to see you! I've got something to tell you..."

"Oh no," Draco groaned. He actually had the nerve to face palm. "You knocked someone up the duff again, didn't you?"

Blaise scowled at him. "Why does everyone assume that's what I'm about to tell them?" he demanded. "You, my mother…"

"Past experience?"

"Point taken," Blaise conceded. "Anyway, I've got something to tell you— something huge."

"Actually, so do I. But you go first. Tell me her name, what you did and how much you're going to need to pay off the Wizengamot."

"Ha ha," Blaise deadpanned. "But no. Here's the thing. I'm... getting married."

Draco stared at him for all of twenty seconds, and then he started laughing. Blaise scowled and crossed his arms defensively as the git practically had a fit, grabbing hold of a table for support. "Oh, that's a good one," Draco snickered, finally subsiding enough to form a coherent sentence. "Yeah, pull the other one. Seriously, what did you do?"

"I proposed and she said yes," Blaise replied flatly.

Draco's smile faded at that. Blaise allowed himself to feel a little smug as reality sank in and his jaw dropped. "What?" Draco shrilled. "When? Who?How?"

"Last week, Ginevra Weasley and I'm going to ignore that last one because, rude."

"Weaslette?" Draco blurted incredulously. "Red hair, freckles, radio voice?"

Blaise nodded hesitantly. Gods, he hoped Draco wouldn't throw a fit. He just seemed stunned for now. He blinked and shook his head slowly, looking a tad dazed. "Well. That escalated quickly."

"Are you going to be a prat about this?" Blaise asked anxiously. "Please tell me you won't be a prat about this. She's a great girl, you know. And…"

"I know," Draco placated. "No, she's fine. I just...what the hell?"

Blaise shrugged. "It happened really fast but...you know how it goes. She's The One. She's good for me. And I think you'd like her if you got to know her too."

"I already...no, you know what? Never mind." He chuckled and shook his head. "Not important. Congratulations, you tosser. When's the wedding?"

"July," Blaise told him. "And you will be there. I don't even care where you are right now. I don't care if you're in Egypt or...Yemen or wherever. You will be there at my wedding or so help me Merlin I'll…"

"Diagon Alley."

"...find you and make you pay for...excuse me, what now?"

Draco smiled slightly. "I came back," he elaborated. "I'm at Diagon. I haven't really been home yet— figured the later I met Lucius, the better. But...I came home, Blaise. I'm back."

Oh, this just got even more awesome!

"That is brilliant!" Blaise cheered. "We are meeting for drinks right now. There's a club down the..."

"It's nice to see commitment hasn't changed you," Draco grinned. "Seriously, though. Congrats, mate. I'm happy for you."

"I'm happy you're back," Blaise replied sincerely. "It wouldn't feel right if I got married without you there. Thank you, Draco." And then an idea struck him. A truly awesome, absolutely fantastic, totally legendary idea. Oh, why hadn't he thought of it before?

"And there's more!" he announced, not even pausing to think because consequences were for losers. "You are going to be my Best Man."

Alright, so maybe it wasn't traditional to have two Best Men, but he would make it work. And if he didn't mention that little detail to Harry or Draco, it wasn't so much a lie as it was 'crisis management'. Yes. That. The point was, they were both his Best Men— in every sense of the word. How could he get married without either of them there? Of course, they had a slightly contentious history, but you know what? Tough. They could deal with it at the time.

Not that Blaise intended to give them a choice.

"I'd be honoured," Draco replied, evidently delighted. "So, do I get to meet the bride or..."

No, that wouldn't do. If Draco got wind that he was Co-Best Manning the wedding with Harry, there might be trouble. "It's probably best if you see her on the Big Day," Blaise told him. "Actually, maybe it's best if we all meet at the wedding. You know how it is, wedding details and all. Busy, busy. But you and I are getting a drink later tonight, yeah?"

And nobody would be the wiser to his little...addition to the wedding details. Being a Slytherin was so much fun.

"Sounds good to me," Draco told him. "See you then."

The flames flickered out of existence as Draco signed off. Blaise grinned gleefully and rubbed his hands.

Just four months to go until the Big Day.

Four months until the most legen-wait for it and I hope you're not lactose intolerant because the second half of that word is-dary wedding ever!

Blaise couldn't help it. He high fived himself.

Four months later...

"The Farhampton Inn," Hermione grumbled, waddling down to the lobby of said inn, one hand on her swollen belly. "Well it's far, I'll give you that."

Ginny took her arm to help her. "Would you rather have this wedding at The Burrow?" she asked dryly. "Need I remind you what our attic ghoul did to Fleur's hair right before the ceremony?"

"We washed the purple right out," Hermione protested. "And it was perfectly well behaved when Ron and I got married."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well, excuse me for not taking chances. And speaking of the devil, where is my brother? Wasn't he supposed to be here by now?"

"Ron got held up at the office again," Harry announced as he approached them. "You doing alright, Mione?"

"Oh, fan-bloody-tastic," Hermione muttered. "Hugo's been kicking up a storm since morning and Ron isn't here for me to yell at but you know, everything's just peachy."

Harry grinned and kissed her cheek. "He's leaving London soon. In fact, he was getting a Portkey when I called. Don't worry, yeah? The Best Man's on it."

"Best Best Man ever!" Ginny added fervently. "Seriously, Harry. I can't thank you enough for finding this place. It's perfect."

Harry smiled. He was actually pretty proud of himself for handling that particular crisis. The Farhampton Inn was a little, out of the way establishment with just the right blend of comfort and class to accommodate the Burrow's boisterous residents and Blaise's comparatively pickier family— specifically his mother. His very beautiful, statuesque, had-seven-husbands-who-left-in-a-hurry mother. Yeah, Harry wasn't about to poke that bear with a stick. Plus the rooms were nice and there was a beautiful dance hall and a picturesque lighthouse just a little ways down the road.

Yes, The Farhampton Inn was the perfect venue for the wedding.

Now, if only they could get the rest of the wedding party here in time for the Big Day.

"I'm going to kill Ron if he misses the rehearsal dinner," Hermione moaned. "I can't believe he's still not here!"

"Everyone else is here," Ginny pointed out. "Charlie, Bill and Fleur... oh, and Mum just flooed in."

"Yay," Hermione deadpanned. "I'm going to get a drink."

"Um, Hermione…" Harry started, half gesturing at her swollen belly.

In hindsight, that was a mistake.

"Juice, Harry!" Hermione snapped, all but baring her teeth at him. "Plain, boring non alcoholic juice, okay? Gods, it's like you're filling in for Ron!"

She stormed off, leaving a flummoxed Harry blinking in the silence. "You know when I said I want kids someday?" he asked Ginny. "Remind me not do that."

"It's just hormones," Ginny grinned. "She's actually been a fantastic Maid of Honour. All calm and collected and patient, I figure it's time for her to go a little mental. Anyway, she's Ron's problem now so you just focus on every other crisis that...why are you checking your phone and looking like Death just called?"

Harry waved her off as he stared at the ominous message he had just received. "Oh Merlin," he managed.

"What?" Ginny demanded. "What happened? What's going…"

"It's Ron. He's...he's not coming."

"What?!"

Around that time, Ron could be found waffling about at Kings Cross Station, Platform 10½ with a Muggle mobile phone pressed to his ear, trying to keep his hearing intact as his wife screamed at him from the other end.

"No! You listen to me, Ronald Bilius Weasley! My back hurts, my feet are swollen and I just drank my own weight in grape juice! Not wine. Grape juice! I don't care what you have to do. You get your arse down to the Farhampton Inn right now or so help me…"

"Mione, please just listen," Ron groaned, scrubbing wearily at his face. "I'm standing in front of the Portkey Office right now. There's a city-wide alert because of that incoming storm. No Portkeys, Apparition is a bad idea and Floo Lines are down everywhere. Their words, not mine. I don't know what else to do."

"Ron, so help me I will...Ginny! I wasn't done talking to…"

"Ron?"

Ron sighed as his sister's voice came through. "Hey, sis."

"So, what are you going to do? Because I'm not getting married without my brother here, you know."

"Ginny, be reasonable. I don't have a way to get there without…"

"Here's the deal, Ronniekins. Either you get down here or I'm telling Mum. Yeah, that's right. I went there. Your call, big brother. Oh here, talk to Blaise."

"Ronald my boy, I heard you're in bit of a jam."

Honestly, were they all going to tear him a new one? Blaise didn't even wait for an acknowledgement. He just barrelled on. "Here's what you need to do. Is there a woman behind that Portkey Office counter thing?"

Ron turned around to take another look at the curly haired blond behind the counter. She smiled politely at him and pointed back to the 'Temporarily Closed' sign set out in front of her.

"Yeah," Ron said slowly. "I think her name's Gwen or something."

"Brilliant. So, this is what you need to do. You must seduce this Gwen. As soon as you've got her face down on that counter, swipe the Portkey and get out of there. Trust me, it works every time."

It took Ron a few seconds to process that. "Do you remember when we all agreed it was okay for you to marry my little sister? I'm not so sure I'm on board with that anymore."

"This is no time for jokes, Ron! Just man up and do it. For Salazar's sake, take one for the team!"

Ron was starting to feel a headache coming on. "Blaise, no. I just...I can't even...no. Just no!"

"There is no 'Blaise no I just I can't even no just no'! Ugh, you know what? Talk to Harry. He'll tell you I'm right…"

"Ron?" Oh, thank Merlin. It was Harry's voice at the other end now. Good old Harry; he wasn't a lunatic. "Please tell me you're ignoring everything Blaise just said."

"I always ignore everything Blaise just said," Ron replied. "Mate, I'm stuck. Tell me you have a plan."

"Best Man's on it. Okay, so if magical travel is out, that leaves the Muggle way. Do you think you can drive a car?"

Ron scoffed. "Harry, you were there in Second Year. Of course I can drive a car."

"You know they don't normally fly, right?"

"They don't?"

He thought he heard Harry groan at the other end. "Never mind, you'll figure it out," Harry said firmly. "Here's what you need to do. Ask that girl at the counter where the nearest car rental place is. She'll know, and she can probably help you exchange your Galleons for some Muggle money…"

"Got it," Ron confirmed. "I'll do my best."

"Hurry, Ron. We can't have this wedding without you. Just get over here as soon as possible, yeah?"

Ron said goodbye, hung up and took a deep breath to calm himself. Okay. Okay, he could do this. He jogged back to the counter. Gwen sighed when she spotted him. "Sir, I already told you I can't give you a Portkey," she said apologetically. "The storm…"

"I know, it's fine," Ron said. "But I really need to get to this Farhampton place and I was wondering if…"

"Farhampton?" she asked suddenly. "Wait, do you mean The Farhampton Inn?"

"Yes! How did you…"

"Wow, that place is popular today. That bloke right there's going the same way. I told him where the Muggle car rental thing is and...hey, maybe you can get a car together!"

Ron followed the trail of her finger, into the crowd of people. "Who?" he demanded, craning his neck to get a better look. An elderly witch with an unreasonably large hat passed by, blocking his view.

"Him!" Gwen exclaimed, gesturing a little violently now. "Nice looking blond? The one with the guitar? Look, he's right there!"

Oh. Ron saw him now. Tall bloke, carrying a guitar, walking to the exit. And he seemed to know where he was going too. He grinned happily. Finally! This was working out.

"Brilliant!"

"Yes, isn't he?" Gwen sighed dreamily. "He comes here a lot. I think he's bent. Do you think he's bent? Not that it matters— I mean, I do have a boyfriend..."

Ron wasn't listening anymore. This was his one chance at getting to the wedding and he was taking it. So, he left a still chattering Gwen behind and took off like a Firebolt after the bloke. "Oi, you!"

Damn it, he was too far away. And now he was taking the exit. Ron nearly lost him, but then he saw a flash of blond as the bloke went through the magical barrier. He quickened his footsteps and promptly followed suit. As soon as he was out in the muggle world, he staggered to a halt. Good grief, the crowd was endless! People milled about everywhere, jostling and pushing as they made their way to the platforms. Ron groaned. Wherewas he?

A blond, bobbing head somewhere to the left caught his attention again. Ron was moving before he even registered it. "Oi! Guitar guy! Wait up a second!"

The bloke stopped and looked around.

"Oh, for Merlin's..." Ron waved frantically at him, trying to get his attention. "Over here!"

He turned around. Ron staggered to a halt, nearly tripping over his own feet. Their eyes widened in comical unison.

"Malfoy?" Ron blurted.

Oh no.

No. No. No.

Malfoy didn't seem any happier at this development. His eyes narrowed dangerously. Ron was still debating on whether to say hi or call him a Ferret again, when Malfoy spoke up.

"Okay, now it's just getting ridiculous."

Ron blinked. "I'm sorry, what…"

But Malfoy was backing away. He was glaring too, pointing an accusing finger in Ron's face and looking pretty agitated. "You know what? I don't want to hear it. I am through. You hear me, Weasley? I am not doing this again!"

Ron scowled back, if only on general principle. It was Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. Even if said Malfoy wasn't making a lot of sense right now. "What are you talking about? I just..."

"There is literally one of you on every corner!" Malfoy informed him, waving an agitated hand about. "I've had enough! I've got my own problems, okay? I'm in no mood to play Mind Healer. Again! Do you hear me? No!"

"But…"

"I don't want to hear it! Whatever it is, go home and deal with it. Go home. Seriously, every bleeding time I turn around…"

Okay, seriously. What was this about?

He didn't have time to find out. Ron stared as Malfoy turned and stormed off, still ranting. Well, that was unexpected. And just what was he supposed to do now? He could probably find the car place on his own and take it from there. How hard could it be, really? Then again, apparently cars were not supposed to fly and he really wasn't sure what 'gears' were. Dad had mentioned them but…

Did Malfoy know how to drive? Well, he was here. Plus, he was wearing Muggle clothes and he had a guitar. Those were some fairly solid credentials.

Then again, it was Malfoy and he was clearly a little touched in the head.

But Ginny's wedding...

But it was Malfoy...

But Harry was counting on him being there...

But it was Malfoy...

But Hermione would disembowel him with a rusty spoon...

Right, decision made.

"Malfoy!" Ron yelled, running after him again.

"Oh, for the love of...what do you want?" Malfoy snapped, walking faster now. Damn his long legs! Ron hurried to keep pace.

"So, you're going to Farhampton too, right?" he started conversationally. "I probably should have guessed. You were mates in school with Blaise...how about that crazy bloke, yeah?"

"Weasley, I don't know what you think you're doing but I am telling you right now..."

"Take me with you."

Malfoy stopped and stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"You're getting a car, right?" Ron demanded, a little desperately. "Let me ride with you. I have to be there. It's a matter of life and..."

"No," Malfoy replied flatly.

"Malfoy, come on! Why the hell not?"

"Get your own damn car," Malfoy snapped. "I'm done with this...this Help a Gryffindor In Need thing you people have going on. Get your own car and drive down there yourself."

"I'm not a very good driver," Ron admitted reluctantly.

"Imagine my surprise," Malfoy drawled. "I seem to recall you started quite early. Not many people have the distinction of traumatising the Whomping Willow before they take their OWLs."

"Oh, come on," Ron whined. "Apparently, cars are not supposed to fly."

"You don't say."

Okay, this wasn't working. Ron decided to go for the emotional approach. It was a long shot but desperate measures and all that. "Look, it's my sister's wedding. I have to be there. A bloke's got to be at his sister's wedding, you know?"

"Get. Your. Own. Car."

"Hermione will kill me if I'm late, damn it!"

Malfoy smirked. "You're just making this more fun for me."

"Malfoy, for Merlin's sake! Blaise said you were sort of decent now."

"He said you were sort of decent now," Malfoy drawled, sauntering off again. "Clearly, he was wrong about both of us. Later, Weasley."

Ron glared daggers at his retreating back. His temper was rising— a common occurrence where Malfoy was involved— and he just burst out. "You know what? Fine! Be that way, you prat! Go! And I hope you're bloody pleased with yourself! Thanks to you, I'll miss all the good stuff— the pictures and the toast and the buffet. Hermione will be furious and I won't even get to slap Blaise in the face! That's all on you, Malfoy! That's all on..."

"Wait, what?" Malfoy skidded to a halt. He padded back, frowning enquiringly. "Go back to that last bit."

"The buffet?"

"You said you were going to slap Blaise in the face. Let's talk about that little detail."

"Oh, that. See, we had this Slap Bet..."

"There was a Slap Bet? And Blaise lost?" Malfoy exclaimed. "Weasley, that's the sort of thing you lead a conversation with."

"You want me to slap him?" Ron asked uncertainly.

"Who doesn't?"

Point taken. And unless Ron was very much mistaken...

"Does this mean I can ride with you?"

He waited anxiously while Malfoy considered that for a while. Finally, the berk seemed to have reached a decision. "You absolutely swear you don't have some kind of major life decision you need help with?" he demanded suspiciously. "No existential crises or..."

Oh, for Merlin's sake!

"For the last time, no!" Ron snapped. "My life is perfect! What, you want it in writing?"

"Not a bad idea, actually," Malfoy muttered. "And you'll slap Blaise? Right in his stupid face?"

"I'll swear an oath if it will make you drive me there." Seriously, he would. He was that desperate.

Malfoy sighed. "Fine," he relented reluctantly. "But if we're going to spend ten hours driving across the country in the same car, we need to set some ground rules. For example, I pick the music."

"Yeah, fine. Whatever, okay? Just..."

"Say it," Malfoy insisted, crossing his arms stubbornly. "Say 'Malfoy picks the music'."

"Oh, for...fine!" Ron snapped. "Malfoy picks the music. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Malfoy drawled. "Come on, Weaselbe. Let's get some wheels and hit the road."

Ron sighed and followed him. This wedding better be worth it.

"Okay, I just got a text from Ron," Harry announced. He frowned as he checked the brief message again. "He says he's hitching a ride and he'll tell us all about it when he gets here, which should be tomorrow afternoon. So it's all good."

"Oh, thank Merlin," Hermione sighed in relief. She took a healthy swig of her ever present grape juice. "I don't think I can take another crisis."

The door open with a loud slam and Blaise barged in. "There's another crisis," he announced.

"Of course," Hermione grumbled. "Okay, I'm getting up. Blaise, hold my juice. Harry, get a forklift."

"Oh, stop it," Harry chided, helping her up. "Okay, let's do this. What are we looking at? Flowers? Food? The six foot ice sculpture Blaise insisted on even though I totally told him it was going to melt?"

"LL Cool Blaise is fine," Blaise informed him with a condescending sniff. "No, it's worse. So much worse."

"Really? And just what is so…"

"It's the parents."

Hermione gasped and Harry swallowed audibly. "Oh Merlin, no," he managed.

Blaise nodded solemnly. "They're in the lobby. It's getting ugly."

There was no time for further chit chat. Harry dashed off, closely followed by a sprinting Blaise and a lumbering Hermione. He skidded to a halt in the lobby and visibly paled as he took in the ominous scene in front of him.

Bianca Zabini in all her icy glory, facing off with a red faced and apparently furious Molly.

"Mrs Weasley, I do believe you're overreacting," Bianca purred, flicking her dark hair back. "I never insinuated that your daughter isn't good enough for my Blaise. Ginevra is perfectly lovely. I simply said that it was astounding what a lovely job you've done raising her considering your...frugal lifestyle."

"Oh boy," Bill whimpered. He retreated to a corner, joining a cowering Charlie— and with good reason. Molly looked fit to explode.

"I'm inclined to agree, Mrs Zabini," she hissed back. "It's a shame you couldn't quite manage the same with your son, considering your less than frugal lifestyle."

"Oh boy," Blaise managed. Ginny gasped as the wands slid out and tightened her hold on Dani, just in case she needed to bolt. It was looking like a pretty good idea at this point...

Bianca's dark eyes narrowed to near slits. "I'm not sure I like your insinuation," she replied in a near whisper.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, dear. By the way, how is that husband of yours? Oh, wait."

Bianca's lip curled. "Those are fighting words where I come from."

"Really?" Molly asked innocently. "Do excuse me, dear. I don't meet many foreigners so…"

And here come the wands. If ever there was a time for an intervention, this was it Harry's desperate gaze roamed the little space, looking for a distraction. Really, anything would do. But try as he might he couldn't find anything that would help defuse this awful situation.

By pure chance he looked back at Ginny…

...and he saw it.

Dani.

There was no time to think about it. Harry just leapt into the fray. "Look!" he yelled, grabbing hold of little Dani and holding her out to the warring factions like a peace offering. "A grandchild!"

It worked like a perfectly executed charm. Dani's timing couldn't have been better. She blinked and gurgled happily, reaching out for the women. Molly's livid expression melted away in the face of sheer cuteness and even Bianca's eyes softened.

"Oh, hello angel," Molly cooed, taking her from Harry.

"There's my beautiful princess," Bianca murmured, tucking a stray curl behind Dani's ear.

Molly smiled and cradled the child carefully. "She has your eyes," she told Bianca.

Bianca looked just the slightest bit startled, but she nodded slowly. "Thank you. Perhaps someday, she will inherit your generosity and kindness."

"Mrs Zabini! That is just the nicest…"

"Do call me Bianca, won't you Molly dear? We're going to be family, after all."

Crisis averted.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief and sagged against the wall, giving Blaise and Ginny the all clear. They shot him a thankful look each and took off. "I am officially the best Best Man ever," Harry whispered, half to himself.

"Seconded," Hermione said, slipping into a chair next to him. She only looked a little begrudging as she handed him a glass of Scotch. "That was brilliant."

Harry grinned and raised his glass. "Let's hope that's all the excitement this week has in store for us," he quipped. "I don't think I can take much more."

"Somehow, I doubt it," Hermione sighed. "I just hope Ron's having an easier time than us."

The Road Trip: Three hours in...

It had started as polite, stilted conversation about the weather. Ron still wasn't sure at what point it had devolved into the Road Trip To Hell but one hour in and sure enough, both he and Malfoy were screaming their respective heads off at each other.

"I swear by everything that is holy, Weasley, I will throw you out of this car!"

"You don't have a leg to stand on, Malfoy! You know I'm right!"

"Right? Right?! I don't even know how you can look at yourself after saying something so outrageous!

"Everyone's entitled to their opinion!"

"Yes, but your opinions are stupid! Of all the preposterous claims I have ever heard…"

"It's not a 'claim', it's a fact! A well documented, proven fact, Malfoy! Ducks are better than rabbits and they always will be!"

"They are not!"

"Just shut up and look at the evidence, will you? What would you prefer for Christmas dinner? A nice, succulent duck or a gamey rabbit?!"

"We're not talking about flavour!"

"Flavour counts, Malfoy!"

"Okay, you want to play in the big leagues? Let's talk Easter. Do you want a duck hiding the eggs for your treasure hunt? Do you?!"

"That would make sense, you know. I mean, ducks are actually capable of making the eggs in the first place and all."

"That's...fine, I'll give you that one. But, what about good luck charms? Who carries a duck's foot around for good luck? Anyone? I don't think so!"

"Yeah? Well, let's go bigger! When it's cold outside, you can wrap yourself up in a comforter stuffed with rabbit fur. I'm going to wrap myself up in one stuffed with duck feathers! Who's cosier?"

"What? That's not a valid..."

"Who's cosier, Malfoy?!"

"You're not even…"

"Answer the question!" Ron snarled. "Say it say it say…"

"Fine!" Malfoy yelled, slamming his fist on the wheel. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were glinting dangerously. "Fine, alright?! I concede!"

Ron sneered. Oh, that wasn't good enough. It wasn't nearly good enough.

"Say it," he gritted out. "You have to say it."

Malfoy looked like he might just rear back and bite. But he grit his teeth, lifted his chin and held up the white flag. "Ducks are good," he bit out. "Rabbits are bad. Happy?"

"Thank you," Ron snapped.

Malfoy just glared at the world in general and slammed down on the accelerator again. "Worst road trip ever."

For once, Ron was in complete agreement with the git.

By the time evening rolled around, Harry was exhausted. There was just so much that went into planning a wedding. If he had to look at any more buffet selections or hear one more toast or go over the wedding vows one more time, he was going to take a pair of pointy garden shears right through Blaise's suit collection.

So, he decided to wind down. He left his room and headed outside to the gardens. An overly sympathetic front desk clerk (Oh dear, you're herealone? I promise it'll get better) had given him a map to the lighthouse. No time like the present, right? Merlin knows he was going to have no time tomorrow...and who knew when he would be coming back?

He passed through the lawns. It was a full moon and the stars were bright. It really was beautiful out here. Harry thought of Blaise and Ginny practicing their dancing together, waltzing on the floor and probably tripping over each other's feet. Ginny didn't quite have the hang of it yet. They were so happy. And he thought of Ron, hurtling across the country to be with Hermione again. Something in his chest tightened slightly and he quickened his steps.

The lighthouse was in the middle of nowhere and he had to tramp through half a mile of shrubbery to get there. It was old and probably hadn't been in use since the early 90s. But there was a light shining from the top and the stars were still out and for the first time in a really long time, Harry felt like he had to do this.

So he climbed. He climbed up the rickety ladder— as carefully as he could— until he finally stood on top of that old, rusty lighthouse.

It was beautiful.

"Wow," Harry breathed, looking up at the sky. He felt closer to it, somehow. Like not everything was out of reach. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe he just couldn't see it because he hadn't climbed high enough yet. But he would get there. Some day.

So, Harry stood out there alone and made a promise to himself— and to the future Love of His Life.

"When I find you, I'm bringing you here. We're going to see the stars together on a night just like this one. And I'll look back and tell you this story. I promise I'll find you. Wherever you are."

The Road Trip: 6 hours in...

"I'm here," Malfoy repeated for the hundredth time, manhandling the mobile phone to his ear. "I don't know where 'here' is, Blaise. Somewhere on the highway. Yes, I swear I'll be there soon. I don't know, another six hours? No, I will not consider using a Time Turner. Okay, bye."

Ron rolled his eyes and looked out the window. The countryside passed by as they cruised down the highway. It was so boring. He was almost considering speaking to Malfoy again. Of course, that wasn't really an option. It was still Malfoy and the Rabbit Duck Altercation had summarily proven that that would never change.

Rabbits. Ugh.

That being said, it was really boring. Ron hated long car trips. Of course he had only ever been on one back in Second Year— and that was more flight and less drive. But even then sitting for hours with nothing to do but watch the occasional cloud go by had sucked. And out here, it was getting dark and there was nothing to look at. Just trees and bushes and that dog over there and…

Wait, a dog?

"Zitch dog!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Oh, great. Now he wanted to talk. Ron shrugged and looked out the window again. "It's a game," he elaborated reluctantly. "Muggles play it when they drive out for long trips like this."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So how do you play?" Malfoy clarified.

Ron cocked his head. Really? Okay then. "It's simple. Every time you see a dog, you say 'zitch dog'. Whoever gets the most zitch dogs by the time the trip is over, wins."

Malfoy scoffed and shook his head. "That's stupid."

Of course. Why had he even started hoping this trip might not be completely excruciating? Ron scowled and turned back to the window. "Fine, forget about it."

"No, I mean it," Malfoy went on. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever...zitch dog."

What?

"What?" Ron blurted, whipping around to gape at him.

"I said that sounds juvenile and childish and completely...zitch dog."

"Hey!" Ron protested indignantly. "You can't just…"

"I just did. And Zitch dog, zitch dog and zitch dog."

Ron gaped at him.

"Dalmatian triplets," Malfoy explained.

"Okay, that is cheating," Ron finally protested. "I didn't know you were - zitch dog - playing."

Well, what else can we do? I don't know about you but I'm bored."

"Okay, fine. We'll play if you - zitch dog - want to," Ron replied, trying and failing to sound begrudging about it. "But no cheating or being all Slytherin or…"

"I'm sorry. Being all 'Slytherin'?"

"You know, trying to rack up points you didn't win and all. Kind of like...well, you in literally every Quidditch match back in Hogwarts."

"Oh, ha ha," Malfoy deadpanned. "I knocked Potter off his broom once. You want to talk about real cheating? How about The League Cup Debacle of 1995? Puddlemere's Benjy Williams made an illegal feint halfway through the match and knocked Cannon's Seeker Galvin Gudgeon halfway across the field, securing the Snitch and winning the Cup by cheating. It was a rotten foul by all standards." Malfoy sneered and twisted the steering wheel a little viciously. "Oh and incidentally, Benjy Williams was a Gryffindor. So, where do you get off making all Slytherins out to be…"

"Don't you dare throw the League Cup of 1995 in my face!" Ron snapped. "I still cringe when I think about it. Williams was a disgrace to the House and the Cannons totally deserved that win!"

"Damn right they did," Malfoy muttered. "Fucking Benjy Williams."

"Fucking Williams!" Ron agreed vehemently. Then the conversation caught up to him. Ron's eyes widened and he turned to Malfoy again. "Wait a minute. You're a Cannons' fan?"

"Only their biggest fan ever, Weasley."

Ron's jaw dropped right to the floor. "Me too," he whispered. "They're just…"

"Awesome," Malfoy finished solemnly.

"So awesome."

Silence descended in the car again. But it wasn't the strained tension from before. It was almost comfortable— the kind of solidarity that only the most brilliant team in the history of Quidditch could have ever brought about. Malfoy was a Cannon's fan.

A Cannons' fan.

It was almost enough to make Ron smile. Almost.

"Weasley?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to stop somewhere and pick up a few beers for the road? I'm buying."

And it just kept getting better and better. This time, Ron grinned. And despite the knowledge that Hermione would murder him if she knew, he nodded in agreement. "That sounds good."

The next morning brought it's own share of crises. Harry woke up to violent banging at his door. By the time he had stumbled out of bed and managed to open it, Ginny was already in the process of stumbling in— looking rather distraught.

Harry sighed. "Dare I ask?"

Ginny swallowed a few times. "I just got The Talk," she whispered. "From Blaise's mom."

Oh?

Oh.

"Wow," Harry blurted, just managing to stifle a surge of laughter. "That must have been rough.

"She told me to lie back and think of Quidditch." Ginny shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "And some other stuff I can't mention in mixed company."

Okay, that did it. Harry burst out laughing, ducking as she threw a pillow in his face. "Hey, don't take this out on me," Harry chided. "You couldhave hitched your wagon to all of this..." He gestured grandly to himself and Ginny rolled her eyes. "But no," Harry went on, tutting disapprovingly. "You wanted the bad boy."

"It's not too late for us," she teased. "Come on. You and me, let's elope."

"Oh no," Harry told her firmly. "You made your bed and now you have to lie back and think of Quidditch in it."

Ginny moaned and buried herself under his covers. "Sit with me," she ordered, patting the bed.

"But I'm supposed to be doing something important. You know— all that Best Man stuff…"

"I'm the Bride," Ginny informed him huffily. "There is nothing more important than me."

Well, he couldn't argue with stone cold logic, could he?

"So," he said, sitting down obediently. "Nervous?"

"A little," Ginny replied. She leaned into his shoulder with a small sigh. "I didn't really see it coming. I always thought I'd be on my own, doing my own thing. And now..."

"And now?"

"And now, it turns out I don't have to do it alone. I have someone I can count on," she said softly. "I keep thinking that I'll wreck it— that I'll panic and just call the whole thing off. I really hope I don't but...what if I do?"

"You're not going to wreck it."

Ginny bit her lip. "I wrecked us, didn't I? You and I were good together but I didn't stick around to find out what we could have had. I just took off. I keep thinking that maybe this is my thing. Maybe, I'm just the girl who runs away."

Harry sighed and squeezed her shoulders gently. "You're not the only one who ran away from us," he told her. "The difference between Blaise and me is that he'll come after you. You could run to the ends of the earth and that bloke will take the next Portkey and come right on after you, no questions asked. That's how much you mean to him. That's why you're right for each other."

Ginny smile brightened and he knew he'd said the right thing. "And when did you get so wise and insightful?" she teased.

"Two words: daytime television."

They laughed and she punched his arm. "You're right about one thing though," she quipped. "Blaise has been a rock through this whole wedding thing. He's been so calm and collected. I think he might actually be cut out for this."

"That's our boy," Harry grinned. "He..."

"Harry!"

They jumped as Blaise's howl was punctuated by a violent banging that all but brought the door down. "For the love of all that's good and holy, tell me you're in there!"

Ginny grinned fondly. "And there it is."

Harry rolled his eyes. "In here, Blaise," he called out. "By the way, just a head's up— I'm in bed with your fiancée."

"Ginny's there too? Fantastic!"

Blaise barged in and promptly barricaded the door shut, putting up at least six Locking Charms in the process. Then he sagged against the wall, panting like he'd run a marathon.

"What happened to you?" Ginny demanded, taking in his less than impeccable appearance.

"Your brothers happened," Blaise informed her. "I just got the Shovel Talk from Bill..."

"Oh sweetie, that's terrible…"

"...and Charlie and the twins. Plus, I think Percy made me sign some sort of legal waiver." He fixed the two of them with a pleading look. "Don't make me go back out there."

"Sit," Harry ordered, patting the bedspread.

Blaise flopped down gratefully. "Is it too early for drinks?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes," Ginny replied. She grinned and whipped out a bottle from her bag. "But since when has that stopped us?"

"And this is why I'm marrying you," Blaise replied, pulling her in for a kiss.

Harry sat with them, torn between rolling his eyes and grinning fondly. Finally, he went for the obvious choice and pulled out his wand, summoning three glasses over. "Last drink for the single people," he announced solemnly. "In four days, you two are going to be married, official parents and in Morocco, apparently…"

"We're still working out the kinks for our year abroad," Ginny put in. She smiled and leaned against Blaise. "But I think we'll work it out, right?"

"It's what makes it an adventure," Blaise agreed.

Harry smiled and handed them a glass of Scotch each. "To the two most amazing single people I have ever met," he intoned solemnly, raising his glass. "And I just know you're going to make the most awesome couple in the world. Also, please don't tell Hermione I said that."

"Hear hear," Ginny agreed, clinking their glasses. "To us!"

"To being awesome," Blaise put in.

"To being friends," Harry added.

And if that wasn't worth a five hundred Galleon bottle of Glen McKenna, Harry didn't know what was. They spent the morning in the room, just friends being together. Maybe for the last time in a long while, he thought wistfully. He didn't know what the future held or where their lives might take them. But for now, they had this. They had each other.

And he wouldn't change a thing.

"Has anyone heard from Ron yet?" Ginny asked suddenly.

Okay, well maybe one thing...

"He'll be here today," Harry replied. "I just hope the trip wasn't too rough on him."

The Road Trip: 9 hours in...

"Best road trip ever!"

Ron grinned from ear to ear, taking another swig of his beer. He meant it too. There was alcohol, there was zitch dog, there was music...and frankly, Malfoy's selection wasn't that bad.

"But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more...come on, sing with me, Malfoy!"

"Okay, that's it." Malfoy said firmly, reaching for Ron's beer. "I'm cutting you off."

"No!" Ron gasped in horror.

"Yes," Malfoy retorted, wrestling the bottle from him and stashing it away despite Ron's best forlorn expression. "We're almost at the Inn and your pregnant and emotionally unstable wife will have my head if I brought you there in less than stellar condition."

"Mione's not unstable," an affronted Ron informed him.

Malfoy scoffed. "Oh yes, she is. And I doubt the pregnancy is doing her any favours."

Ron considered that for a few minutes and decided that Malfoy had a point."She's been a li'l moody," he conceded fairly. "But tha's okay. I love her."

Malfoy's lips twitched in amusement but he refrained from making any wisecracks. Ron didn't notice, still caught up in thoughts of Hermione and their baby. His grin widened.

"Baby's due in two months," he said. "Can you believe it, Malfoy? In two months, I'm gonna be a father."

"Congratulations," Malfoy replied quietly. "You must be thrilled."

"It's awesome," Ron agreed with a dopey smile. A thought struck him suddenly and he turned to his companion. "What 'bout you? Any teeny tiny Malfoys running about?"

Malfoy pursed his lips, looking straight at the road. "I'm not sure that's any of your business, Weasley."

"Oh, come on," Ron whined, poking haphazardly at him. Malfoy scowled and waved him off, but a slightly sloshed Ron could be quite persistent. "I thought we were getting along," he argued. "Did you ever see that coming? We both like the Cannons, and we played zitch dog and I bought you the beer and…"

"I bought you beer."

"See? This is working out great!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "It's still none of your business."

Oh, brilliant. They were back to sulking then. Malfoy was glaring now, looking dead ahead and ignoring him completely. No, Ron decided firmly. That wasn't going to work. They still had Merlin only knew how many hours left before they reached Farhampton, and semi-pleasant Malfoy was miles better than angry, sulking Malfoy. Besides, Malfoy took his beer so it was only fair that he answered Ron's question. The logic was sound.

"D'you remember what you said back at the station?" Ron asked finally.

"I said a lot of stuff back at the station."

"That's true," Ron conceded. "But in the middle of all that crazy, a few things kind of stuck out. It sounded like you were saying— I don't know— like you listen to people a lot."

Malfoy snorted. "Weasley, you don't know the half of it."

"Right, got it," Ron said, waving him off impatiently. "But you don't really have someone to talk to about your own stuff, do you? All I'm saying is, I don't really care. You and I are never going to see each other after this wedding. And it's not like I can go anywhere right now so...you know, it's your call."

Malfoy wasn't taking the bait. He was ignoring Ron now, driving down the winding roads with a slightly wistful expression on his face. There was nothing for it. Ron was just resigning himself to another hour with nothing to do but look out the window when…

"I've been alone a long time," Malfoy said quietly. "Shockingly, not many people want to get to know the disinherited, gay, ex-Death Eater."

"Yeah?" Ron frowned thoughtfully. "I didn't know you were bent."

Malfoy's hands clenched at the wheel. "Yes Weasley, I'm bent," he gritted out. "Feel free to follow my father's example and jump out of the car anytime you like."

Wow. Talk about issues. Harry wasn't nearly this defensive when he came out. But then, he'd had support. All his friends around him, telling him it was fine and nothing had really changed. From the little Malfoy had deigned to tell him, it was obvious that he'd been on his own through it all. That must have been tough.

No wonder he was so prickly about it. Did he think Ron was going to give him a hard time for being bent? Really? The idea was preposterous but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that was exactly what Malfoy expected. It took Ron all of two seconds to come to a decision.

"Stop the car," he ordered.

Malfoy slammed down on the brakes so fast that Ron nearly flew out of his seat. His hands were tight on the steering wheel and he was staring dead ahead— no doubt expecting Ron to jump out and make a break for it. Well, Malfoy or not, that wasn't going to happen. There was a line of common decency and Ron wasn't the kind of bloke to cross it.

"Switch seats with me. I'm driving."

Malfoy frowned in confusion, but quickly schooled his expression. "Excuse me?"

"You've been driving for hours," Ron clarified. "And we're nearly there. I think I can handle the last stretch. You can relax for a bit, have that last beer, if you want. You look like you could use one."

"Weasley, you've been drinking. I'm not letting you drive me anywhere until..."

"Oh, relax," Ron retorted. "Ginny taught me a nifty little spell for situations just like these." He pulled out his wand and cast the charm. Immediately, the buzz of alcohol wore off, leaving him fresh and alert. He stowed the wand away and grinned at Malfoy. "Not bad, yeah? She picked it up in Argentina. It's like the opposite of Confundo."

Malfoy looked stunned. His eyes flicked from Ron's open, unwavering expression to the wand. But then his shoulders relaxed. "You're right," he said finally. "That is a pretty clever spell."

"And bloody useful! You won't believe how many times we've cast it on Blaise when he isn't looking. Now, move it, will you? I'm taking a crack at this driving thing."

Malfoy still looked hesitant but he allowed Ron to take the wheel. He didn't protest when they started off again, a tad shakily. Ron kept his eyes on the road, suppressing a smile when Malfoy finally reached for the last beer.

"Weasley."

"Hm?"

"Thanks for taking the wheel," Malfoy said. "I appreciate it."

Ron nodded and cruised down the road. He had a feeling it would be smooth sailing from here on out.

"This is a disaster!" Blaise shrilled.

Harry sighed in exasperation. "Look, I'm sorry about your bachelor party but it is impossible to find a strip club in Farhampton at nine in the morning. Unless you've changed your mind about The Crab Shack, you're going to have to settle for a drink at the bar."

"Not that!" Blaise snapped, shoving a parchment scroll in his face. Harry frowned and accepted the guest list, looking it over again. Blaise started pacing, practically ricocheting off the walls.

"My mother invited Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy to the wedding!" he explained, practically hyperventilating. "Oh, this is bad. This is so very bad…"

"Okay, slow down a minute." Harry frowned at the list, somewhat confused. He wasn't Lucius Malfoy's biggest fan but was it really such a big deal? They could just stick him at a table in the back and pretend he wasn't there. "I'm not really seeing the problem here."

"Oh, you will," Blaise snapped. "When he gets here, he's going to freak about this! Oh gods, there's going to be hell to pay for this one. Mother could have mentioned she was inviting Lucius to my..."

None of this was making any sense. "When who gets here?" Harry asked.

Blaise's harassed response was cut off by the shrill ring of Harry's phone. "Hold that thought," Harry told Blaise. "It's Ron."

He ignored Blaise's sputtering and took the call. "Ron, please tell me...you are? So, how long before...wait, you're already here? Brilliant! No, stay in the lobby. We're coming down."

"Ron's finally here," Harry announced, gesturing at Blaise to follow as he hurtled down to the lobby. "Come on!"

~*~*~*~*~Present Day~*~*~*~*~

The anticipation was building. The children were absolutely silent and hanging on to his every word. Even Scorpius' never ending spiel of complaints had finally run its course.

"It's happening," Al declared, grabbing hold of an unsuspecting James and shaking him violently. "It's finally happening!"

"Is it odd that I'm actually a little excited?" Scorpius asked with a frown. "I mean, it's nearly over."

Lily swatted his arm and gazed imploringly at Harry. "So, this is it, right Daddy?" she asked hopefully. "You and Father met and fell in love and lived happily ever after?"

Harry winced. "Well…"

~*~*~*~*~Year 6 (contd.)~*~*~*~*~

Ron's friendly face was as welcome a sight as ever. Harry pulled him into a hug as soon as he was in reach. "Good to see you, mate. We were worried you wouldn't show."

Ron returned the hug and thumped his back. "After what I went through trying to get here? Harry, you are not going to believe who I…"

"Ron!"

Harry was unceremoniously shoved aside as Hermione caught sight of her husband. Ron's smile widened tenfold and he hurried over to wrap her in his arms. "Missed you," he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. Hermione curled into his chest, smiling in contentment.

"I missed you too," she whispered. "How on earth did you…"

"A nine hour drive through the rain," Ron said, smiling down at her. "It's going to take more than a little thunderstorm to keep me from you."

"You drove?" Hermione sounded rather horrified at the thought. "But..."

"Okay, fine. So maybe I didn't do all the driving. I actually got a lift from…"

"Bride on the move! Everyone out of the way! Move it or lose it!" Ginny pushed and jostled her way over to Ron, pulling him into a hug as soon as he was in reach. "You made it! I never doubted you for a second! Blaise, give me my money back."

"You couldn't have just missed the rehearsal dinner, could you?" Blaise grumbled as he approached and forked a Galleon over to a grinning Ginny. Then he smiled and clapped Ron on the shoulder. "But seriously, we would have killed you."

"Okay, let the man breathe," Harry grinned. "He's here, right? That's the important part. So why don't we head to the bar and get this party..."

Later— when he told this story over and over again— Harry wouldn't be able to explain just why he felt the need to turn around mid-conversation at that particular moment. There may have been a perfectly rational reason for it. Maybe he heard the click of the door opening. Or maybe it was because he heard footsteps or saw a reflection in a mirror. Or maybe it wasn't that simple. Maybe it was fate or destiny or some other complicated unseen force at work.

Whatever the reason, that was the very moment Harry turned around…

...and came face to face with Draco Malfoy for the first time in six years.

~*~*~*~*~Present Day~*~*~*~*~

"Yes!"

"Finally!"

"It's happening! I told you it was happening!"

"Al, you're going to tear my arm off if you keep doing that."

"People, please! Let me finish. So, there I was, seeing your Father for the first time in forever…"

~*~*~*~*~Year 6 (contd.)~*~*~*~*~

"Malfoy," Harry whispered.

For a second, he thought he might have been mistaken. The bloke was tall, slender and blond, but surely there were other blonds in the area. Then he turned around. Instinctively, Harry catalogued every feature— the grey eyes, the sharp features, the exceptionally pale skin. It was a perfect match. Oh Merlin, he wasn't seeing things. That was definitely Malfoy standing by the door, frowning as he looked around, heading to the front desk…

Malfoy...

Draco Malfoy had just walked in the door. Harry staggered slightly. Best Man or not, he wasn't sure what to do with this new development. He hadnot been prepared for this. No one had prepared him for this.

"Malfoy!" Ron spotted the blond and called out cheerfully, waving to get his attention. "Over here!"

Harry's jaw dropped right to the floor. No one prepared him for that either.

Malfoy looked up, his grey eyes zeroing in on their little group. He must have seen Blaise first because he smiled and raised his hand in a partial wave. And then those grey eyes turned to Harry. Malfoy's eyes widened. He dropped his hand. Also the guitar.

"Draco," Blaise greeted with a bright smile. His eyes flicked from Harry to Malfoy and back again. His smile faltered and he took a slight step back.

"Malfoy?" Hermione managed. She sounded shocked, but not as displeased as she probably should have been.

"Malfoy!" Ginny exclaimed. She just sounded excited.

Harry would worry about this disturbing lack of reaction later. At the moment, he had a very uncomfortable situation to deal with because Malfoy was still gaping at him and oh Merlin, this was happening...

"Potter?" Malfoy blurted.

At least his reaction was spot on. He looked so shocked that Harry thought he might actually keel over. Not that Harry wasn't experiencing similar feelings...

"Malfoy," he managed.

This was happening. This was actually happening to him.

Then Malfoy sneered and crossed his arms. "Oh, bloody brilliant. It's Scarhead."

~*~*~*~*~Present Day~*~*~*~*~

Harry had to stifle his laughter with a healthy swig of Scotch as four sets of jaws dropped simultaneously. "And that's the story of how I met your Father," he finished solemnly. Then he nodded and got up, dusting his hands off meaningfully. "So, who's hungry? I think we've got some pizza left over…"

"I'm sorry, what?!" Scorpius blurted.

James seemed to share his sentiments. "Whoa whoa whoa!" he barked, making indignant slashing motions with his arm. "What was that?"

"That's the story," Harry replied with a shrug. "You know, The End and all that. Seriously, does anyone want pizza?"

"You can't end it there!" Al shrilled in outrage. "Why would you...who does that? I call do-over!"

"Daddy!" Lily looked distraught, poor thing. "There's got to be more!"

"Oh, there is," Harry agreed. "But I figured I'd cut it short. I'm sure you lot have better things to do than listen to your old man's stories all night."

"No!" Surprisingly, this was from Scorpius. He was having a little trouble coming to terms with this. "That is evil! James, do something!"

"Like what?" James asked. He shook his head and turned back to Harry. "Dad, come on. You're making Scorpius cry."

Harry took a few deep breaths to compose himself before turning back to his offspring. "So, you guys actually want me to finish this story?"

"Yes!" they screeched.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Well, alright. But only because you insist. So there we were…"

~*~*~*~*~Year 6 (contd.)~*~*~*~*~

It was that tone that did it. That snarky, condescending, grating, infuriating tone that he'd never thought he would have to suffer through again. That was what brought Harry crashing back to reality.

"You," he hissed.

Malfoy smirked and tilted his chin, the very picture of arrogance. "Potter," he drawled.

Harry's fists clenched. Something was happening to him. He could feel the agitation building up inside him. Just the sight of Malfoy standing there indolently— Malfoy with his grey eyes and pointed chin, looking at him through narrowed eyes, as if Harry was something unpleasant on the underside of his shoe— oh, it was all coming back.

A clenching, roiling feeling deep in his gut, pushing down any semblance of rationality and bringing out every combative instinct he possessed. Just like Hogwarts. Just like those seven years of Malfoy sneering and snapping at him, riling him to the brink of insanity, turning his every waking moment into a never ending battle to come out on top. Malfoy was feeling it too, he could tell. Those grey eyes narrowed and Malfoy took a step forward, clearly intending to start something. Oh, bring it on. Harry was ready. Bring it...

"Draco! Look everyone, it's Draco!" Blaise hurtled out of nowhere, strategically situating himself between the two.

Malfoy's attention snapped back to him. For a second, his eyes softened. Harry noticed the guarded expression disappearing as he smiled genuinely at Blaise, pulling him into a brotherly hug. "You know I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he said.

Blaise grinned and clapped his back. "I know. Merlin, I'm glad you're here."

Harry gaped at them, unable to do much else.

Seriously? He was glad Malfoy was here? Where...where had Malfoy even come from?!

"And there's the Bride," Malfoy drawled, releasing Blaise and nodding at Ginny. "¿Cómo andás? You look radiant, by the way."

Wait, what?!

"Todo bien, Malfoy," Ginny retorted with a teasing grin and not a hint of animosity. "By the way, good call on that little bet we made. I'm...really glad you decided to come home."

"A deal's a deal."

Harry's jaw dropped a few more inches. What the hell was happening?

"And Granger," Malfoy added. "May I offer my congratulations? Also, should you be drinking wine in your condition?"

"Grape juice. It's grape juice," Hermione grumbled. But then she shook her head and smiled fondly. "It's good to see you again, Malfoy. How did the things work out with the band?"

"Well enough," Malfoy replied with a shrug. "Although I daresay, things worked out better for you."

Hermione smiled and raised her glass.

What what what?!

"By the way, Weasley— you owe me a drink at the bar. You lost the last game of zitch dog."

"Sure, mate. Fair's fair."

Mate? Mate?!

And that was it. That, right there was where Harry lost the fragile hold on whatever was left of his self control.

"Time out," he announced shakily. "Time out!"

Every head in the lobby whipped around in his direction. That included Malfoy, the front desk clerk and other assorted guests who were probably under the impression that the Best Man had gone round the twist. Harry didn't care. Everyone had gone crazy and they needed to shut up so he could fix it.

"Have you all lost your marbles?" he demanded incredulously. "This is Malfoy!"

"An astute observation, Potter," Malfoy drawled. "Nice blazer, by the way. It's good to know Madame Malkin's is helping out the less fortunate."

"Oh boy," Hermione mumbled. Malfoy just smirked, looking quite pleased with himself for that clever little barb.

"I wouldn't talk," Harry spat, taking in the prat's attire. Since when did Malfoy wear denims? And how dare he pull them off? "Hey Malfoy, The Weird Sisters just called. Even they don't want those clothes back."

Malfoy's grey eyes narrowed a fraction. "It's nice to see you haven't changed, Scarhead. I was worried that this might actually turn out to be a civilised affair."

"If it's not up to your high and mighty standards, you can leave," Harry snapped. "What are you even doing here in the first place?"

"I have every right to be here, Potter," Malfoy belted back with a sneer. "My best friend is getting married. If you think I'm going to..."

"Your best friend?" Harry shrilled indignantly. "Your best friend? Since when? No, that's where you're mistaken, Malfoy. I'm Blaise's best friend."

Apparently, those were fighting words. Malfoy's jaw tightened as he stared Harry down. "Actually, this is where you're mistaken, Pothead. I'mBlaise's best friend. Always have been, always will be."

"I'm his best friend!" Harry shouted.

"I am!" Malfoy yelled back.

"Ladies!" Ginny yelled, doing her best to step in between them. "You're both pretty!"

Harry ignored her and rounded up on a visibly paling groom. "Blaise! Tell this tosser I'm your best friend!"

"Blaise, say I'm your best friend!" Malfoy demanded, glaring daggers at Harry.

"Not much fun when it happens to you, is it Zabini?" Ron put in smugly.

Blaise swallowed audibly. He stared at both of them, looking a bit caught in headlights. "You're...both my best friends?"

"That's it," Malfoy stated flatly. "You're dead to me."

Blaise groaned and rubbed his temples. Ginny shrugged and patted his shoulder.

"Ha!" Harry cried, pointing a triumphant finger at Malfoy. He sensed he was being a little childish here— particularly if Hermione's eye roll was anything to go by— but he didn't really care. So long as he got one up on Malfoy, Harry was fine with that. "I told you so. It's not even a bleeding contest! I'm the Best Man, so I rank first on default anyway. Well, nice seeing you, Malfoy. Feel free to pick up a fruit basket on your way out."

Malfoy froze halfway through the taunting spree. He turned back to Harry very, very slowly. For a second, there was no sound in the lobby save for a quiet whimper from Blaise. Then Malfoy spoke. "What do you mean you're the Best Man?" he asked. His voice was barely a hiss.

Blaise squeaked and took a few paces back.

Harry frowned at Malfoy. "I mean I'm his Best Man. You know— run the show, make the toast…"

"I know what a Best Man is, Potter!" Malfoy snapped, sounding just on this side of livid now. His steely gaze drifted to Blaise who visibly cringed. "I'm just wondering why you think you're Blaise's Best Man when he asked me four months ago!"

Harry's eyes widened. "He what?"

"You what?" Ginny echoed, gaping incredulously at her fiancé. "Blaise! You asked Harry to do it ages ago!"

"Well, that's true…"

"You told me I was to be your Best Man four months ago," Malfoy confirmed through clenched teeth.

Blaise winced. "That's true too," he conceded unhappily.

Oh gods.

That was it. Harry was going to set something on fire. Blaise, most likely.

"Is this true?" he demanded, turning on Blaise again. "You hustled both of us into being your Best Man?"

"Best Men," Ron promptly corrected.

Malfoy and Harry turned to him with flat, dangerously blank expressions. Ron shrugged and carried on. "I mean if it's both of you, it's 'Best Men', right? Right? I mean, come on. Grammar is important, people."

"That's right, Ron," Ginny sighed, patting his arm. "Poke the dragon with a stick."

"They're not going to hex me," Ron scoffed, waving her off carelessly. "Blaise on the other hand, is a dead man."

The mention of Blaise seemed to bring Malfoy back to his current predicament. He turned back on the unfortunate groom. "So this is your doing, is it?" he gritted. His fingers twitched dangerously and he looked about a hair's breadth from pulling his wand out. "Blaise, I hope you realise I'm going to kick your arse all the way back to London."

"Get in line," Harry growled.

Blaise reacted to this unfortunate and very dangerous situation in true form. He flashed them a wide, insincere grin and held out his hands in a gesture of placation. "Boys. Mates. There is a very reasonable explanation for all of this."

"Start talking," Harry gritted.

Blaise nodded and opened his mouth...

...and then he turned tail and fled like wolves were chasing him.

"Blaise!" Malfoy howled, chasing after him at once. "Get back here! We're not finished, damn it!"

Harry watched as he took off, debating whether or not to follow. Finally, he decided to let Malfoy have at Blaise first. He had something else to take care of.

"You three," he growled at his friends. Hermione cleared her throat, Ron looked away pointedly and Ginny coughed delicately and fiddled with her sleeves. "Group meeting," Harry informed them. "Now."

He stormed off, leaving them no choice but to follow.

"Oh, great," Ginny grumbled sulkily, trudging after him. "Now we're all in trouble."

An hour later, Harry was sitting in his room and staring blankly at a wall as his friends engaged him in one of the most surreal conversations of his entire life.

"...and that's my story," Ron finished. He shuffled uneasily as Harry just continued to stare at the wall, seemingly in shock. Ron cleared his throat and tapped Harry's shoulder. "Harry? You still with us?"

"Give me a second."

Ginny reached out and patted his knee. "Take your time."

Harry shook his head dazedly, trying to come to terms with what Ron had just told him. "Okay. Let...me see if I understand this," he finally began. "You ran into Malfoy at Kings Cross, rented a car and drove down here with him."

Ron nodded. "That's about the size of it, yeah."

Harry replayed that image in his head for the millionth time and it still refused to make sense. "Okay, I'm going to need to go over this again." Ron sighed wearily and Harry pointedly ignored him. He needed to understand this. "You voluntarily got into a car with Malfoy. Malfoy the Wonder Ferret. Malfoy the prat. The bloke who used to flick insect bits at us in Potions class. That Malfoy just showed up and offered to drive you here and you were okay with that."

"Harry, it's been years!" Ron protested. "What was I supposed to do? Not come to my sister's wedding? There was no other way to get here.You're the one who suggested the car thing in the first place."

"Excuse me for not anticipating that Malfoy would be your travel companion!" Harry snapped. "I wasn't exactly expecting him to appear out of nowhere."

"Yeah, he does that," Ginny said.

"He really does," Hermione agreed thoughtfully. "That boy is everywhere."

"Anyway," Ron cut in hastily, because Harry was going a dangerous shade of purple again. "It wasn't that bad. I mean, okay it wasn't the best situation in the world but it turned out alright. I got here, didn't I? And Malfoy wasn't so awful. He bought beer, we played zitch dog and..."

"You drank with Malfoy?" Harry sputtered indignantly. "I'm pretty sure that's called betrayal, Ron. What's he like now, your best friend? First Blaise, then you— am I seriously losing all my friends to bloody Malfoy?!"

"Harry, be reasonable," Hermione chided. "People change. Malfoy's really not that bad anymore."

"And how would you know?" Harry grumbled. "Oh let me guess, you're secretly friends with him too."

"Well, I wouldn't say friends exactly..."

She shifted uncomfortably. Harry's eyes widened as ominous realisation set in. "No," he whispered. "Hermione, no!"

"Look, it wasn't...okay, fine!" Hermione snapped. "I met him in Brussels. It was a very long time ago. I was going through a rough time and he was just there. So we talked and well, long story short, Malfoy helped me figure some things out. That's when I decided to come back home."

"Really?" Ron exclaimed. "Damn, I should probably get him that drink then."

"Oh my god!" Harry screeched.

Ginny cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I suppose now would be a bad time to mention that I met Malfoy in Argentina?" she asked.

Harry groaned and held his head in his hands. He was getting a migraine, he just knew it.

"You're not serious," Hermione said sceptically.

"No, really," Ginny insisted. "I was sort of homesick and he was there too. We talked a bit." She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "It was nice running into someone from home."

"Talk about a small world," Ron mused thoughtfully.

Great. Just great.

"So, this is happening," Harry said flatly. "This is...this is real. Everyone has met Malfoy. All of you have somehow crossed paths with that git during the most important moments of our lives. You know what, I'm offended. How come I didn't get to meet Malfoy? Why wasn't I invited to the Malfoy Reunion Club?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ron scoffed. "If it was a club, we'd have t-shirts."

"Maybe you should get t-shirts!" Harry snarled. "Here's a catchy slogan: I fraternized with the enemy and all I got was this stupid t-shirt!"

"It meant nothing to us!" Ginny protested.

"We were thinking of you the whole time!" Ron added.

"Okay, that's enough," Hermione cut in with an exasperated sigh. She reached out and patted a sulking Harry's hand. "None of us planned this," she told him sternly. "All we're saying is Malfoy is a different person now. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for you to get to know him. Especially, if you're both the Best Men..."

"No!" Harry snapped. "I don't need to...I already know Malfoy just fine! He's a prat. He's a git. He's the wanker who made my life miserable in Hogwarts. I don't need to know any more than that, thanks. And now...now he just waltzes in and suddenly, he's everyone favourite?! Well, let me ask you this— where has Malfoy been for six years? He wasn't around. He's not a part of any of this. He hasn't been through the stuff we've been through together. So why does he get to be Best Man?"

"I'm sorry to have to break this to you, Harry," Ginny said firmly. "But that's Blaise's decision. He gets to decide who his Best Man is and apparently, it's you and Malfoy. So if I were you, I'd get used to it."

"Yeah?" Harry sneered. "Well, I'm sorry to have to break it to you, but I'm the one who's had to put with Blaise for six years. He's my friend and he's a damn good bloke. But he's an arse for bringing Malfoy into this! So I'm going to be the Best Best Man at that bastard's wedding and then I'm going to kill him! Because that's what real friends do! Goodbye!"

Harry stormed off, slamming the door behind him.

Ron blinked in the ensuing silence. "Is it just me or is Harry's concept of friendship a little warped?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "He'll get over it. He's always been a little crazy when it comes to Malfoy."

Ginny started nodding in agreement, but stopped as her expression turned speculative. "That's true, isn't it?" she said slowly.

Ron blinked. "I'm sorry, where are we going with this?"

Ginny's frown deepened and she shook her head. "I'm just saying that Malfoy does inspire a pretty intense reaction. Have you seen him act that way about anyone else? It's just something to think about, I guess."

"Yeah, still not following," Ron told her.

"You know, that's a good point," Hermione agreed, nodding slowly. "I can't remember the last time I saw him this riled up over anyone."

"I can," Ginny replied. "Your Sixth Year at Hogwarts. He was tense and irritable and absolutely obsessed with…"

"...anything and everything Malfoy related," Hermione finished. She shared a look with Ginny. Ron just stared blankly as their eyes widened almost comically.

"So, he hates Malfoy," he said slowly. "That's not exactly news."

"I don't think he does," Ginny grinned.

"In fact," Hermione added, her smile widening with each word. "I think he 'doesn't hate' Malfoy a lot."

"Oh, that boy is 'not hating' Malfoy so hard," Ginny snickered.

Ron just stared blankly as they descended into giggles. "Okay, I'm lost."

"Don't worry, Ronniekins," Ginny replied, looking out in the distance with an ominous gleam in her eyes. "We've got this."

Ron suppressed a groan. He had a feeling this wasn't going to end well for anyone.

Blaise wasn't sure what prompted him to stop in the ballroom and acquire Dani from his mother as he ran for his life with Draco in murderous pursuit, but he was going to chalk it up to equal parts quick thinking and luck— basically, the two fundamentals of his very existence. Whatever the reason, by the time a furious Draco managed to corner him in an empty bedroom, Blaise was armed with the most adorable little girl in the world.

"Before you punch me in the face," Blaise announced as Draco advanced on him. "Look what I made!"

Dani giggled as he held her out. Draco skidded to an immediate halt. His eyes widened and Dani squealed happily, looking up at him with bright interest.

"Oh," Draco whispered.

"Draco," Blaise said softly. "This is my little girl."

Draco seemed a little shocked. Dani squealed and waved a chubby fist at him and he managed an incredulous laugh. He approached slowly, almost cautiously. "May I?" he asked softly.

Blaise handed Dani over without a word and smiled as an incredulous laugh escaped Draco. Dani gurgled enquiringly at him and his smiled widened. "Hello, angel," he murmured, bouncing her gently. "I'm your Uncle Draco."

"Daga," Dani agreed. She tugged at his hair, making Draco laugh again. He grinned at Blaise. "She's brilliant."

Blaise puffed his chest out, visibly preening. "Isn't she just?"

"Beautiful," Draco confirmed, bouncing the little girl again. "I'm still going to kill you, by the way."

"Damn it," Blaise grumbled. So much for evasive manoeuvres. "Okay, fine. So maybe I wasn't entirely truthful about the Best Man thing but…"

Draco scoffed and bounced Dani on his knee. "Your Daddy is a first class git," he told her solemnly. Dani giggled as he patted her cheek. "See? She agrees with me."

"Come on. Are you really going to hold this against me?"

"Well, let's revisit the scoreboard, shall we?" Draco replied. "You lied to everyone, you tricked me into being your Best Man with Potter and...well, I can't think of anything else you've done but I've only been here for about a half hour so I'm holding out."

Blaise sighed and his shoulders slumped. "Okay, fine. I admit it. I lied to you and Harry. I'm sorry. But you know, maybe I did it because I had to. I wanted both my Best Men here— you and Harry. And I knew neither one of you was going to jump for joy at the idea so I...omitted a few details here and there. I just wanted my wedding to be legendary and it's not going to be legendary if you two aren't there. So yeah, sue me for trying to get my best friends to join in on my special day."

"Special day?" Draco drawled. "Well, now we know who the Bride is." He smirked as Blaise squawked in outrage. "Okay, fine. So maybe I get why you pulled this stunt. But I still can't believe you picked Potter as your Best Man."

"He's one of my best friends. And by the way? You didn't have to be such a wanker to him the moment you walked in the door. 'Scarhead'? Really?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It was an impulse. The prat brings out the worst in me. There's just something about him." He turned to glower accusingly at Blaise. "And apparently, you two are best mates now. Can I at least ask when the hell that happened?"

"When you left," Blaise replied quietly. "About six years ago. I needed a friend and he was there."

"Blaise…"

"I'm not asking you to be best friends with the bloke, Draco. But can't you just get along for a few days? I don't want to do this without you. I really don't. Please tell me you're not going to take off again."

Draco sighed and slumped back in his chair. "I'm not going to take off," he grumbled. "I said I'd be your Best Man and that's what I'm going to do." He reached out and squeezed Blaise's shoulder. "I know I haven't been around much lately but I'm still your friend, Blaise. That's not going to change."

"I know," Blaise said with a faint smile. "You're here and that's what matters."

"Exactly. And I'm going to be the best Best Man at your wedding and I'm going to blow stupid Potter right out of the water."

"Wait, what?"

"There can only be one Best Man," Draco informed him loftily. "And it's me. Not Potter. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to rock this wedding. Here, hold your kid."

Blaise groaned as Draco handed Dani over and stalked off. "Brilliant," he muttered. Now he had this to deal with. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea in the first place? Dani patted his cheek sympathetically, and he smiled and kissed her forehead. "Uncle Draco isn't crazy," he assured her. "He's just always been a little touched in the head where Harry is concerned. A little obsessed. I know; it's odd, right? It's almost like he wants to..."

He trailed off and frowned.

Huh. That was interesting, wasn't it?

Blaise grinned and hoisted Dani up again. "Let's get you back to Grandma, angel. Daddy's got some scheming to do."

It took him less than ten minutes to locate the rest of the group — mostly because they literally ran into him in the hallway and sent him crashing to the floor.

"There you are!" Ginny hissed urgently, helping him up. "Blaise, we've got to tell you something and it's legen-wait for it-dary! Legendary!"

Blaise staggered to his feet. He pulled her into his arms without a word, kissing her fervently. "I have never been more attracted to you than I am at this moment."

"Ugh." Ron made a face and edged away from them. "I don't approve of any part of this," he announced firmly. "Not even a little bit."

Hermione smiled and kissed his cheek. "It's worth a shot," she said soothingly. "Just remember, we're doing this for Harry."

Ron subsided with a belligerent mumble. Blaise stopped short and stared at them, taking in their eager expressions. He recognised that look. It spoke of scheming and plotting, of conniving and other general sneakiness. Of course he recognised it. He had practically invented that look.

"I'm guessing you've seen it too?" he asked, trying to suppress the quiver of anticipation in his voice.

Oh, please say yes. Please say yes...

"It's so obvious," Ginny squealed. "They are so into each other!"

"Seriously, what am I missing here?" Ron demanded.

"They don't see it but it's there," Hermione agreed. "I mean, scarily there. Malfoy plays in a band, for Merlin's sake! And I know for a fact that Harry likes bass players."

"And Malfoy wants to settle down," Ginny added. "I think we can all agree that Harry likes that in a bloke."

Ron gave up. He sighed and scrubbed his hair. "He does like the Cannons," he added grudgingly. "We're not going to find that again anytime soon."

"That's because the Cannons are bloody awful," Blaise informed him.

Ron glowered defensively. "One," he snapped. "I've got one slap left and I'm not afraid to use it, Zabini."

Blaise immediately took cover behind Hermione, who rolled her eyes. "Back on topic," she said firmly. "So are we really doing this? Are we really going to meddle in things that are none of our business and try to run Harry's life for him?"

Ginny shrugged. "Well, clearly. What else do couples do?"

"Lovely," Hermione replied cheerfully. "I'm glad we're all on the same page."

"Let's do this!" Ginny grinned.

"Ugh, fine," Ron grumbled.

Blaise chuckled gleefully and rubbed his hands. "Challenge accepted."

And so began the most infuriating and frustrating three and a half days of Harry's life. It was a nightmare. His initial plan to just avoid Malfoy and pretend he didn't exist was failing miserably. The prat was everywhere.

Take the Bianca situation, for example.

Harry had been strolling along, intending to check up with Blaise's personal tailor for his suit alterations. Because of course, he wasn't going to get married in the perfectly acceptable, traditional ceremonial robes he was supposed to wear when a tux was within reach. Harry knew better than to argue. Some things, you just went with.

So, there he was just minding his own business, when he came across Malfoy in the hallway— making a bloody nuisance of himself again.

"I'm afraid I must insist, Aunt Bianca," Malfoy said smoothly. "You simply must take my room. A lady should never have to go without a view of the gardens."

Harry all but screeched to a halt, his jaw dropping open. That wanker! Malfoy caught his eye and smirked before going back to fawning over Blaise's mother. "I can't imagine what imbecile thought it appropriate to give you that little hovel of a room, but there's nothing to worry about anymore. The Best Man is here."

Harry scowled and Bianca smiled her sultry smile. She patted Malfoy's cheek fondly. "You were always my favourite, Draco," she purred. "But please, don't tell Blaise."

Malfoy smiled cheerfully as she glided away, smirked at a still fuming Harry and sauntered off.

"Kiss arse," Harry yelled after him.

"Incompetent," Malfoy drawled, not even bothering to turn around.

Harry glared at his retreating back until he was gone. And for the record, if his gaze lingered on Malfoy's arse for a second more than necessary, it was only because he was too busy glaring holes in the prat's back to look away in time.

That was all.

End of story.

That was just the beginning. After that, Malfoy made it a point to make his presence felt everywhere, and make Harry look like a nitwit in the process.

He procured the perfect tux for Blaise in three hours flat. He swapped Harry's perfectly mapped schedule for one of his own twisting making, redesigned the seating arrangements and basically took over the whole thing. And he did with that infuriating smug smirk and an easy effortlessness that made Harry want to reach out and throttle him.

The worst part? Everyone liked having him around. Seriously, what the hell? Blaise had never been happier, but at least Harry could understand that. What he didn't get was how easily Malfoy managed to wedge his way in with the rest of his friends. He conversed easily with Ginny, he kept up with Hermione— their last discussion on Ministry initiatives might very well have lasted throughout the wedding had Blaise not dragged Malfoy away— and perhaps most unfathomably, even Ron didn't seem to mind his sudden presence in their lives.

Harry was starting to feel like a fifth wheel and he hated it. He hated it and he hated stupid Malfoy for dropping out of nowhere and turning everything upside down again. He hated that smug grin and those grey eyes and that infuriating head of blond hair. He hated that Malfoy had only been here for two bloody days and somehow, Harry's every waking moment revolved around him. It was eerily reminiscent of Hogwarts and he hated that too.

So Harry fought back. It was only fair. Malfoy was pulling every dirty trick in the book to replace him, and he wasn't about to let that happen. So he changed back the schedules, re-redesigned the seating arrangements and made sure none of Malfoy's little plans ever made it past the drawing board.

And if this little stand-off led to three separate shouting matches with Malfoy in the hallway with anxious guests peeking out from their rooms, then that was just business as usual in Harry's book.

"And that's what you get for changing my schedule!" Harry yelled, pointing an accusing finger in a seething Malfoy's face. "You can have your precious liquor stash back when you back the fuck off and let me do my job!"

"It's not your job!" Malfoy snarled back. "You're just in the bloody way, you tosser! I'm the Best Man and…"

"I'm the Best Man!"

"No, you're bloody not!"

"Yes, I bloody am!"

"Potter, I swear I'm going to…"

"Malfoy, you're asking for…"

"Now that's quite enough!"

The shrill reprimand rang out from behind them. Malfoy turned around and Harry followed his example. His eyes widened and his heart sank down to his shoes as he recognized the portly, scowling woman marching purposefully towards them. A portly scowling woman with beady eyes and a beak like nose, sporting a pink feathery hat. An ominously familiar pink feathered hat.

Oh no.

Oh no.

"Is this what I get for travelling halfway across the country for Ginevra's wedding?" Ron's Great Aunt Muriel demanded. "Just listen to the two of you carrying on like that! In public, no less! Disgraceful! Why, in my day…"

Harry winced as the old hag proceeded to tear into him and Malfoy. He suppressed the urge to groan out loud. Oh gods, Aunt Muriel! How could he have forgotten? That old harridan who had chewed his ear off at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Gods, how was she still alive? Wasn't she a thousand years old or something? And she still had that abomination of a hat!

Said hat bobbed furiously as she carried on, apparently on a roll.

"...telling Molly just the other day that even Ginevra could have done better than that Zabini boy. Have you met his mother? There's a word for people like her where I come from..."

That's it. Life was officially not worth living anymore. Harry was going to hex himself.

"And the champagne!" Muriel railed on, turning on a wide-eyed Malfoy now. At least he had the good sense to nod along. Then again, it only seemed to encourage her. "Don't even get me started on the champagne. When I find who organised this wretched affair, I will have words with them, I promise you that! I..."

"He did," Malfoy supplied at once, jabbing a finger in Harry's direction. "Best Man. This bloke, right here."

"Oi!" Harry snapped indignantly. "We're both the Best Men!"

If he was going down, he was bloody well taking Malfoy with him.

Muriel's hawk like gaze promptly zeroed in on him. "Harry Potter," she stated tersely. Her flinty gaze raked over him, clearly sizing him up. Harry straightened himself self-consciously. "I suppose Ronald wasn't boasting after all."

"Well, I…"

"I thought you'd be taller in person."

Malfoy snickered happily until Muriel turned on him again. Harry smirked as Malfoy's smug grin faded at once. "And you," Muriel went on, looking him over disparagingly. "One of those Malfoys, is it? With hair like that, it's a wonder I didn't see you all the way from Diagon Alley. And Merlin boy, when was the last time you cut it? Before the war?"

Malfoy's jaw dropped and he sputtered in sheer indignation, much to Harry's vicious amusement. Maybe Muriel wasn't so bad, after all. However, she was still glaring so he struggled to keep a straight face. Muriel's eyes darted from him to Malfoy and back again.

"Now about you two," she huffed, pursing her lips. "I may be over a hundred and I admit I don't really understand how this works." She paused and gestured vaguely at them. "But I'll have you know that my Bilius and I were married for over seventy years and that's a long time."

Harry frowned in confusion. Where was this going exactly?

"So take it from an old hand at this, boys. Never take an argument out of the bedroom."

Wait, what?

"What?" Malfoy shrill screech echoed Harry's sentiments rather succinctly. As did his shell shocked expression.

Muriel wasn't interested. She carried on with her little rant, all but talking over them. "Oh, I know what it's like— all youth and passion, never seeing eye to eye on anything. Very exciting, all of it. But in the end, it doesn't make for a very happy marriage if you're bickering all the time, now does it?"

Harry's jaw dropped in tandem with Malfoy's. She thought they were…

"And you're supposed to be setting an example, Mr Potter," Muriel added, sniffing disparagingly at him. "A man of your stature should not be yelling at his spouse in public."

Harry would have given every Galleon he had to just disappear in a hole in the ground. A hot blush crept up his neck at the very thought of...just how was he supposed to get out of this situation? Fortunately, Malfoy's patience had worn thin and he leapt into the fray.

"Now, hold on," he snapped indignantly. "We are not…"

"And here's a little advice for you, Mr Malfoy," Muriel cut in, practically steamrollering right over his protests. "Nothing works better on a man than a little quality time in the bedroom, if you get my drift. A lot better than airing your dirty laundry in public, I assure you."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or break down sobbing. Malfoy seemed to have been rendered speechless. His eyes were wide and he was gaping soundlessly, apparently at a loss for words. A scarlet blush was creeping up his neck and tinting his cheeks. Despite being in the direct line of fire, Harry revelled in the gobsmacked expression on Malfoy's face.

Oh, he was definitely changing his mind about Muriel. She was brilliant and she had just given him the most glorious opportunity for revenge. Harry would be an idiot for not taking advantage of it.

"You know, she has a point," he spoke up. He had to suppress a bout of laughter as Malfoy's eyes widened exponentially. Instead, Harry adopted an earnest expression and placed an arm around Malfoy's slim shoulders. "We've just been so busy with this wedding—I guess I just haven't had the time for us. I'm so sorry, darling."

"Excuse me?!" Malfoy shrilled. "Get your paws…"

His rant ended in an alarmed squeak as Harry tightened his grip and herded him over. Malfoy tumbled into his chest and Harry held on, determined not to let this go until he had milked it for all it was worth. "He's been feeling a little neglected," he informed Muriel solemnly. "It's my fault, really. Sometimes, well...I'm just not there, you know? It's hard on both of us."

"What?!" Malfoy all but snarled, squirming violently in his grip. "Potter, get your hands off me this…"

"See?" Harry sighed and shook his head. "He won't even let me make it up to him. It's just so difficult sometimes. And between you and me..." He lowered his voice and leaned in for Muriel's benefit. "It's been forever."

Malfoy squawked in outrage and Muriel tutted disapprovingly. "Well, that's always the problem, isn't it? The poor lad. You have a lot of making up to do, Mr Potter."

"I swear to Merlin, Potter. If you so much as touch me, I'll…"

"Too right," Harry agreed cheerfully. "No time like the present, yeah?"

It was the stupidest, most dangerous thing he could have done in the circumstances. Of course, that was precisely why he did it. Without a moment's hesitation, Harry placed a firm hand on Malfoy's jaw and pulled him forward, pressing a firm, hard kiss to his lips. Malfoy's gasp of outrage turned into a muffled shriek. His hand dug painfully into Harry's shoulder, trying to push him off. But Harry held on stubbornly, pressing into Malfoy's mouth with single minded determination.

He had rather soft lips, actually. Plush and pink and full— like a girl, Harry thought viciously. Malfoy was frozen in his grip and his eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, brushing Harry's cheek. Something about it was so exhilarating. Who had ever been able to render Malfoy speechless?

Harry Sodding Potter, that's who!

So Harry just had at it, pushing forcefully against Malfoy's parted lips and snogging him thoroughly before finally releasing him. Malfoy scrambled back as soon as he let go, looking utterly shell-shocked. Bewildered, grey eyes blinked at Harry as Malfoy tried and failed to come to terms with what had just happened. Harry grinned smugly and turned back to Muriel. "I think I've got it from here," he told her. "Thank you for setting us straight, Ma'am."

Muriel nodded approvingly and patted his shoulder. "You take care of that young man now," she said. Harry waved cheerfully until she departed. As soon as the room to her door shut, he burst out laughing — leaning against the wall for support.

Oh, he couldn't help it. It was just that awesome.

"You should...have...seen the...the look on your face!" Harry managed through fits of laughter.

Malfoy went from dumbfounded to seething with rage in all of two seconds. "You bastard!"

Harry groaned as Malfoy pulled his fist back and punched him right in the ribs. He doubled over in pain, and he still couldn't stop laughing. It took him all of ten minutes to finally straighten himself out. Malfoy stood there, silently seething and glaring daggers at him. It was the most fun Harry had had in a long time.

"Aw, what's the matter, sweetheart?" he teased. Bloody hell, Malfoy looked furious. Harry's grin widened. "Would another kiss make it all better?"

Malfoy— who looked about one step from either strangling Harry or going for his wand— stopped short and flushed scarlet at the suggestion. His cheeks coloured and his eyes widened. It made something inside Harry thrum pleasantly. Now that he was actually looking, he had to admit Malfoy actually looked good like this. All flushed and breathless— Harry absently wondered what else made Malfoy blush.

Then Malfoy regained his faculties and shoved him away. "Fuck you!" he snarled, backing away defensively. "What the bloody hell, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he offered nonchalantly. To tell the truth, his pulse was still racing at the memory of Malfoy's slim body pressed against his own. Instinctively, Harry's gaze drifted over him. Not half bad actually. Too bad about the personality, but he had to admit it was wrapped up in one pretty package...

"Like what you see?" Malfoy sneered. He made a show of wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bet you've been waiting years to do that."

"Oh, get over yourself," Harry retorted. He most certainly had not. Although there was something to be said for a sure fire way of shutting Malfoy up. The direction of his thoughts made him bristle defensively and he couldn't resist a parting shot. "And that's all the action you're getting from me, so don't get used to it."

Malfoy visibly seethed at that and Harry had to quell another laugh. Malfoy pointed a damning finger in his face, eyes glittering with fury. "Just stay out of my way," he growled. "And don't ever do that again or I'll hex your bollocks off!"

"Fine by me," Harry shot back. As if he wanted to put his mouth anywhere near Malfoy's ever again…talk about revolting. Yeah, that was the word.Revolting.

Malfoy flounced off with a parting sneer. Harry watched him leave and it wasn't until Malfoy was well out of sight that he realised he had been staring rather keenly at the blond's arse. Again. For the third time in so many days.

Harry pursed his lips in displeasure and hurried to leave as well. Maybe avoiding Malfoy for the rest of the wedding wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

It was a sound plan and he had every intention of following through with it. For a while, it actually worked. At first, Harry managed to get by without running into Malfoy at every other corner. But then something strange started happening.

If Harry didn't know better he would swear that he and Malfoy were being herded together.

It started with Ginny's crisis. Harry wasn't sure what she was going on about but apparently something had gone horribly wrong with the cake three days before the wedding. Harry refused to read much into it, opting to chalk it up to last minute bridal panics. Then he got to the kitchen for the requested taste test and found Malfoy there.

Malfoy who was already well on his way to sampling said cake, and apparently enjoying it.

"I don't know what she's going on about," Malfoy informed an army of hassled house-elves as he dug in. "This is fine. Hell, it's bloody fantastic. Can I get seconds, please?"

Harry could do nothing but stare as the bizarre scene unfolded before him. The first thing he registered was that Malfoy had been passing polite to a house-elf. The second thing was that Malfoy had perched himself on a counter, kicking his legs out without a care in the world as he had at the cake. Harry just watched because honestly, this was just odd. Malfoy looked so boyish and carefree, almost happy. He hadn't even noticed Harry yet and there was quite obviously nothing in his world that mattered more than cake, at the moment. Harry's lips twitched. If he didn't know any better, he would say it was cute.

Then Malfoy lifted the chocolate smeared spoon to his mouth. Those soft, pink lips — that Harry had absolutely not been thinking about for the last eight hours — wrapped around the spoon and Malfoy moaned. His eyelashes fluttered in pure pleasure, and any thoughts of Malfoy being boyish and cute promptly fled Harry's mind.

Malfoy was bloody well enjoying himself— that was for sure. He emitted a sound that could have passed for a satisfied purr and then his tongue peeked out to get at the rest of the chocolate and Harry felt his mouth go dry. Bloody hell, he was really going at it.

As if on cue, Harry's thoughts went back to that kiss the other day, the feel of those soft lips under his own. Malfoy had barely moved then, which was reasonable considering he'd been frozen in shock. What was Malfoy's kissing like when he wasn't being rudely assaulted, Harry wondered. Was he enthusiastic? Responsive? Talented? Recent evidence suggested all of that and more. Harry swallowed as Malfoy's tongue flicked at the spoon again. The constriction in his throat just about matched the one in his pants and he was moving now, approaching Malfoy and this really wasn't a good idea but…

Malfoy saw him.

Malfoy's eyes widened.

Malfoy ceased fellating the spoon. His brow arched in a familiar, defensive glare and he scrambled back on the counter, as far away from Harry as possible.

"What?" he snapped.

Oh, back to being a prat then. Good. Harry preferred familiar ground where Malfoy was concerned.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, with just a hint of teasing. Why not? It wasn't like he had much to do and riling Malfoy up was an old hobby. Plus, there was always the small chance that he would blush again and that was always fun…

This time though, Malfoy did not blush. He just glared at Harry as if mentally willing him to ashes. "I was until you showed up," he replied coldly. "What do you want now?"

Harry's eyes drifted to Malfoy's lips. There was still a smudge of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. Harry licked his lips instinctively. Why did he have to look so damn good? Honestly, Harry shouldn't be expected to make rational decisions when Malfoy insisted on throwing him off course every single...

"Potter! For Merlin's sake, I asked you what you wanted…"

And that was when Harry threw rationality out the window and cut off Malfoy's latest rant— by swiping a thumb over his lips and wiping away the chocolate. Malfoy's eyes widened and he shut up at once, mercifully silent and lips slightly parted. Harry grinned smugly and licked the chocolate off his finger, refusing to even think about the consequences of his bizarre actions. Thinking before acting was for losers anyway. Besides, everyone liked chocolate.

"You know, I think I'm good," he announced cheerfully. "I just got everything I need. Later, Malfoy."

He turned and left, suppressing a grin as a saucepan flew through the air and missed his head by near inches.

Oh yes, this was turning out to be fun.

However— as much as he might have enjoyed that little incident— Harry couldn't help but notice just how often he and Malfoy seemed to end up in the same place together. He would have suspected Malfoy of planning it just to mess with him but he didn't seem any happier about the enforced quality time either. All Harry got out of him were suspicious scowls and wary glances. Nevertheless, he stubbornly refused to leave— still firmly convinced he was the Best Man— and Harry sure as hell wasn't going anywhere so they were stuck together.

And for the most ridiculous reasons, at that. Harry really didn't think emergency suit fittings were absolutely necessary this late in the day, but Blaise was convinced that they had all put on a few kilos after the rehearsal dinner. Long story short, he found himself being poked and prodded at by Blaise's overly handsy personal tailor at six in the morning while a disgruntled, sleep rumpled Malfoy sulked in a corner, threatening to wear jeans and a Black Sabbath t-shirt to the ceremony if he didn't get coffee in the next ten minutes. Just for that, Blaise had him try on three suits. Harry relegated himself to sitting stiffly in a corner— while Malfoy grumbled and complained and tried on shirts and jackets— trying not to let his eyes stray anywhere near Malfoy's bare, toned chest in the process.

He was out of sorts and agitated by the time they left the benighted tailor and then Hermione had accosted him, demanding that he take Dani to the park. Somehow, Malfoy had been roped into babysitting duty as well. It was a tense uncomfortable morning, filled with awkward silences but they managed it. By unspoken agreement, Malfoy carried Dani over to the swings and Harry excused himself to fetch the ice cream. By the time he returned, Dani was squealing happily and kicking her chubby little legs out as Malfoy pushed her gently on the swing, one hand firmly around her to keep her balance. His smile was soft and unguarded and he spoke to her, earning a delighted smile from the little girl every now and then.

Harry watched from a little distance and he told himself that it was just mild curiosity at how comfortable Malfoy seemed to be with children. It wasn't fondness or anything and it certainly didn't make something warm and comfortable unfold in his chest. That was for sure. Okay, so maybe it was a little fondness— but for Dani. Not Malfoy.

Then Dani spotted him and the ice cream and all further explorations on the matter of Malfoy's child rearing skills had to be shelved aside as an excited toddler situated herself in Harry's grasp. Harry laughed and bounced her and fussed over her a little, coincidentally avoiding looking at Malfoy or acknowledging his presence at all. As they made their way back in silence, Harry could have sworn Malfoy was staring at him. But every time he turned to check, the blond was looking straight ahead or studying his nails or basically, looking at everything except him or Dani.

By the time they returned and were immediately recruited for yet another emergency mission— together, big surprise— Harry was starting to suspect something was a bit off.

Malfoy didn't seem to be buying it either.

"Dance practice," he intoned flatly, raising an eyebrow at the happy couple. Ginny squirmed uncomfortably under his suspicious regard but Blaise just flashed an easy, unrepentant smile— apparently used to this form of silent interrogation.

"We just thought it would be nice to have both my Best Men— shut up, I don't want to hear it— on the dance floor," he announced, sounding exceptionally pleased with this idea. "So, who's up for a little practice?"

"No," Malfoy stated at about the same time that Harry announced "Over my dead body."

"Oh, good," Ginny chirped. "They're finally agreeing on something."

Harry crossed his arms defensively. "We agree that this is not happening. I already told you I'm not going to dance at the ceremony..."

"Yes, yes. Because you've got two left feet. It's disgraceful, really," Blaise cut in. "But see, that's where Draco comes in. If anyone can get you in shape for the waltz, it's him."

"Absolutely not," Malfoy repeated belligerently.

"See how excited he is?" Blaise insisted. "Now come on, chop-chop. Three days before the Big Day, yeah?"

Harry was starting to feel a headache coming on. He didn't know what they were trying to do, but he doubted it would end well for him. Especially considering the way Malfoy was glaring. Harry would just as soon expect a kick in the ribs as the basics of a simple box step. Besides, he could dance just fine if the occasion called for it. He certainly didn't need to learn Malfoy's poncey moves to...

"I really don't think…" he began.

"There is not enough money in the world..." Malfoy started off.

Unfortunately for them, Ginny had just about had it with this nonsense. "Enough," she announced, firmly situating herself between them. "You know what? I don't even care anymore. This is my wedding, I'm the Bride and what I say goes. You!" she snapped, pointing a finger in Malfoy's face. "Get over yourself. And you!" she railed on, whirling around to Harry now. "Get over your issues with him. At this point, I don't even know what they are and I don't care! So, snap to it. Why? Because I'm the Bride and I bloody well say so!"

And with that, she grabbed a grinning Blaise's arm, whirled around and dragged him off. "Cue the music!"

And that was that. The door slammed shut. Harry could have sworn he heard the click of a Locking Charm too. Oh, bloody brilliant. She actuallyexpected them to do this. Harry scowled as a slow melody obligingly commenced, filling the ballroom. "For Merlin's sake," he grumbled. He scuffed his shoe against the polished floor in a show of petulance.

Why was this happening to him?

Malfoy made a small scoffing sound in his throat and stubbornly shoved his hands in his pockets. Evidently, he refused to make the first move.

Harry sighed in defeat and approached him. "Come on," he coaxed, extending an arm and ignoring Malfoy's half step retreat at his action. "I don't like it anymore than you do but she is 'The Bride'."

"There should be a limit on how many times she gets to use that in one day," Malfoy retorted, sliding forward. His slim fingers rested on Harry's shoulder, pressing down ever so slightly. Harry tried to ignore the sudden hitch of his breath and wrapped one arm around Malfoy's slender waist. He wasn't sure when they'd agreed that he would be the one to lead but Malfoy seemed unperturbed by the dynamic.

"I've already lost two muffins and a cup of coffee to that blighted excuse since this morning," Malfoy went on. Harry wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. He still wasn't sure what to make of this new Malfoy who inexplicably got along with his friends and wasn't a prat on general principle. So he said and did nothing until Malfoy huffed in impatience and tightened his grip on Harry's shoulder. "Get to it, then," he snapped. "The sooner we get this over with…"

Just to be contrary, Harry started moving abruptly, cutting his little rant off before it could start. Malfoy staggered a bit but quickly got into the spirit of things. Soon, he was moving without hesitation, apparently willing to follow Harry's lead. Eventually, they relaxed a bit, falling into the repetitive, precise movements of the dance.

"Okay, good," Malfoy murmured. He seemed more focused now that he had something to concentrate on. He was counting the steps, instructing Harry on how to move each time he missed one. "Now, take a step back."

"Like this?"

"No, that's too far. You don't want to drag your partner around. It's... okay, yeah. That's much better..."

For once, their conversation held no animosity. It was just two people dancing. It was the most surreal experience of Harry's life.

And, he had to admit, it was...interesting. Being the one guiding Malfoy's direction, gently reeling him in when he strayed too far, keeping a firm hold on that slim waist as he spun them across the floor. There was something oddly intimate about it. It felt...personal and different and a part of him was really surprised how well they seemed to fit together. Malfoy's slim body seemed to have been made to move with his.

Harry bit back a groan as thoughts of Malfoy's body moving under his made an unexpected comeback. Gods, what was happening to him?

"Just so you know, I'm on to you. I know what you're doing."

Malfoy's voice jerked him out of his musings. "Oh?" Harry replied innocently. He tightened his grip a little, and Malfoy's eyes narrowed at the handling. Harry's lips twitched with amusement. He could sense an argument rearing up. That was a good thing. If he was arguing with Malfoy, at least he wouldn't be thinking about how good the prat felt pressed up against him. "And what am I doing, exactly?"

Malfoy lifted his chin defiantly. "You're trying to make me uncomfortable so that I leave," he announced. His tone spoke of ironclad conviction.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at that. He had forgotten how suspicious Malfoy could be. Talk about the Slytherin poster child. To tell the truth, he seriously doubted that was what he was doing, but like hell he was telling Malfoy that. "And is it working?" he asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement now. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Yes. I mean no!" Malfoy snapped. He sounded so frustrated. Harry bit his lip to keep from grinning. Malfoy huffed and went on. "I mean I'm not going anywhere no matter what you pull so you can just stop...being weird."

Harry had half a mind to tell him the truth. Honestly, he really didn't want Malfoy to leave any more. He was fun and interesting and shockingly easy to rile up. He was entertaining. It would be a dull wedding without him. No, he definitely didn't want Malfoy to go away but he doubted he could explain why. Malfoy wouldn't believe him anyway. Besides, the thought that he'd had that much of an effect on his old school rival was oddly amusing, to say the least.

So he gave Malfoy a charming grin instead. "I really don't think I will. Besides, you look so pretty when you blush."

And that was absolutely not what he'd planned to say— under any circumstances.

Malfoy's scowl deepened to a full out glare but on the plus side, he blushed again. "It's not going to work," he bit out. "And I'll have you know that two can play at this game, Potter."

"Hit me with your best shot," Harry replied cheerfully. "Now give us a twirl, darling."

He laughed when Malfoy pushed him away. Ponce, Harry mused fondly as he watched him storm definitely didn't understand what was going on between him and Malfoy. But it was fun. Oh, it was so much fun.

And the funny thing was that Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled so much with anyone.

It wasn't until the next evening— at Blaise's ill timed Stag Party— that Harry got a little more perspective on his Malfoy-related issues.

It started with said Malfoy showing up to the club in tight leather trousers.

Now, in Harry's defence a) The Crab Shack served very strong drinks and b) there wasn't much else to do but drink at the bloody Crab Shack, so he was fairly out of it by the time Malfoy made an appearance. Add to the fact that said Malfoy was dressed in a shirt that fit like a glove and trousers that seemed to have been painted on and well, let's just say Harry really wasn't in a position to make very good decisions.

Blaise was the first to notice him. "You made it," he said fondly, reaching out and tousling Malfoy's hair. "I was starting to think you were a no-show."

Malfoy smirked and cast a disparaging eye across the dank, dreary club. "And miss this?" he replied flatly. "Perish the thought." His gaze finally landed on Harry — who admittedly could have benefited from picking his jaw off the floor but seriously, bleeding leather trousers. Malfoy's eyes twinkled with the slightest hint of mischief. "Potter," he purred, approaching Harry now and looking for all the world like a prowling jungle cat.

Two can play at this game.

Oh, that dirty little cheater. With great effort, Harry picked up his jaw from the floor and clenched it, doing his best to look absolutely unaffected.

"Malfoy," he greeted coolly.

In hindsight, it may have sounded less like a greeting and more like a strangled hiss— because seriously, freaking leather trousers. Harry cursed inwardly. The little git was playing dirty again and he had the upper hand. After Harry had tried so hard to throw him off balance too! It was just unsportsmanlike, that's what it was.

Malfoy seemed satisfied by Harry's inner turmoil. He dismissed him and turned back to Blaise. "Why isn't Weasley here?" he asked. "Why am I being punished with this awful excursion while he gets to lounge in his room?"

Blaise smirked and shoved a drink at Malfoy. "First of all, you've been in places worse than this. I haven't forgotten the Tijuana Incident. Secondly, Ron is back at the inn giving his very pregnant and very irritable wife a foot massage, so he's being punished enough. And thirdly, this is my stag party. So shut up and buy me a lap dance."

Malfoy cast a contemptuous glance at the women on stage. A lithe scantily clad brunette executed an almost perfect spin, wrapping her long legs around the pole. She caught Malfoy's eye and treated him to a playful wink. Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Amateurs," he scoffed.

Harry sensed a cue and raised a challenging eyebrow. "Think you could do better?"

Malfoy smirked. "I know I could do better, Potter."

Oh, was that right? Harry grinned ominously and tossed a Galleon at him, which Malfoy caught with a swift twist of his wrist. "Let's see what you've got then." Harry challenged. Malfoy lifted his chin, silently deliberating. Was he really going to do it? Frankly, Harry was half expecting him to call bluff and shuck the Galleon back.

Malfoy however, just sauntered off.

"Now you've done it," Blaise drawled. "I was hoping we'd all be sloshed before it came to this."

Harry frowned as he stared at the blond's retreating back. "He's not really going to go through with it, is he?" The thought of Malfoy up on that stage, twisting and grinding to some cheap beat was laughable. Hilarious, as a matter of fact — and not at all arousing.

But evidently, it was going to happen. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Malfoy approaching the stage and gesturing to the brunette. They exchanged a few words. She giggled and nodded eagerly, clearly on board with his suggestion. Okay then...

Harry cleared his throat and took a healthy swig of his drink. "He wouldn't," he repeated firmly. "Malfoy's got too much of a stick up his arse to even think about..."

"Oh, Harry." Blaise sighed and patted his shoulder. "You're just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?"

Harry had no time to respond to that because Malfoy chose that very second to lift one slim leg up and plant it on the stage. He was up there in one smooth pounce and then every eye in the dank little club was on him. Harry froze but Malfoy didn't seem the least bit fazed. That grey gaze caught his eye again. Malfoy's lips curled up in a smirk.

Everything that happened after that was something of a blur.

There was music, Harry thought. There must have been. The sound was muted but he could feel the steady beat thrum against the table, underneath his palms. And there were lights. They went off in his face every now and then— bright and disorienting — marking the slim silhouette on the stage. And there were people too. Men, actually. Lots and lots of men. They gathered around the stage in a crowd, watching in avid interest as Malfoy...

Malfoy started moving. Harry promptly lost all interest in the rest of the world as that slender body twisted and writhed on stage. Malfoy didn't just dance. Oh no. This was different.

Malfoy danced. He twisted and slipped in and out of the shadows, teasing the strips of light that tried so hard to catch him. He played them with his slender body and his long legs, affording nothing but teasing glimpses to his steadily growing audience. An audience composed almost entirely of interested males (and more than a few women, by the way) who weren't opposed to reaching out and trying to touch the pretty vision who'd just taken over their dull evening. Malfoy stayed out of reach— all smirks and sly grins— teasing and taunting, but never coming close enough to touch. One of them reached out to grab him but he slipped away easily.

Harry was absurdly thankful for that. Not to mention bemused because really, how was Malfoy moving like that without dislocating something?

"And this is where I bow out," Blaise drawled, finishing his drink and setting it back on the counter. "Try to keep him out of trouble, will you Harry?" He raised an eyebrow as Malfoy executed a perfect spin on the pole and smirked. "Although I daresay, you have your hands full."

Harry didn't even notice him leaving. Every fibre of his being was focused on Malfoy and his lithe, graceful, sinuous movements. Those long legs, that flat stomach, those sharp features and mischievous eyes— bloody hell, he was gorgeous.

And that's when Harry knew that he was in big, big trouble.

Shockingly, Malfoy was becoming rather popular too. Some bloke decided to just go for the gold. He clambered on stage and reached for him. A questing hand made its way towards Malfoy's waist.

Harry's jaw clenched. His feet were moving before he could even register it. In seconds, he was pushing his way through the hollering crowd and approaching the stage, wand out and ready. A discreet spell took care of Malfoy's admirer, who suddenly found himself tripping over his own feet and toppling off the stage with a surprised yelp. Malfoy laughed, apparently delighting in the mayhem he was causing. He wrapped himself around the pole again, stretching his body for the adoring public. Cheers went up all around him, and Harry scowled.

"Alright, you've made your point," he snapped.

Malfoy turned and favoured him with a wicked smile. "Oh?" he asked innocently.

Harry crossed his arms and affected his sternest I'm-an-Auror-and-you-better-listen-to-me expression. "Off the stage," he ordered. "Now."

Malfoy's eyes flashed with challenge. "Come and get me."

Harry wasn't about to disappoint him. He reached out and grabbed Malfoy by the arm, trying to ignore the protests and groans from the audience.

"Oh, come on!" some bloke groaned. "Seriously, who's the killjoy?"

"Let 'im take his shirt off!" someone else shouted.

Harry grit his teeth as applause and cat calls rang out at that helpful suggestion. Malfoy cocked his head in consideration and Harry tightened his grip. "Don't even think about it," he growled. Later, he would sit down and explore in detail exactly why the idea of Malfoy disrobing for complete strangers made him want to set something on fire. At the moment however, he had to concentrate on getting the git out of here. Preferably with a bulky, shapeless jacket draped over his stupid, skinny self.

Malfoy wasn't particularly interested in cooperating. "I like it here," he informed Harry. "I think I'll stay."

Harry's irritation spiked to dangerous levels. "Either you get down, or I'll come up there and make you," he threatened. "I mean it, Malfoy." He did. He really did. At this point, he would bodily drag Malfoy out of here kicking and screaming. Granted, he didn't know why, but he sure as hell wasn't letting Malfoy strip for this sleazy crowd while he figured it out.

Fortunately, Malfoy seemed to think he was serious as well. "You're no fun," he groused. But he acquiesced and leapt off the stage in one graceful move. "There," he declared, dusting his hands off. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Harry muttered, ushering him through the reluctant crowd. Malfoy just smirked and allowed himself to be manhandled. Harry kept his grip tight and unyielding until they were outside and far enough from any lingering admirers. Then he pulled out his wand and Disapparated back to the Inn, with a smirking Malfoy firmly in tow.

"My my," Malfoy tutted as they reappeared in the gardens. His eyes swept over Harry and his lips pulled in a lazy smirk. "Not the sharing type, are we?"

It might have been the booze. Or the fact that they were all alone in the gardens. Or maybe it was the sight of Malfoy's dark, lidded eyes or the feel of his slim, taut body under Harry's hands— Harry really wasn't sure. All he knew was that one moment, he was glaring at the prat and then he had him pinned against a wall, hands tight on Malfoy's waist. Then he was leaning in, as if guided by instinct and Malfoy wasn't exactly pulling away.

It was Malfoy who closed the distance between them. It wasn't even a kiss, just a brush of the lips. Experimental. Searching. Harry would never understand just what part of that barely there gesture made him pull Malfoy in and smash their mouths together. Just what was it that made him push Malfoy even further into that wall, until his back was pressed against those bricks and taste him so thoroughly, so eagerly. All he knew was that he didn't really give a damn, because Malfoy's retaliation was just as intense, just as desperate.

Bloody hell, this was happening.

Malfoy was kissing him back.

Harry moaned and plied into the wet, welcoming heat of Malfoy's mouth— eager and insistent and bloody invasive, if he was being honest with himself. But Malfoy didn't seem to mind. When he finally resurfaced for air, his breath was coming in harsh pants and his chest was heaving. His eyes were flashing and each flicker of that dark, lidded gaze was going straight to Harry's groin and…

"Bet you've been waiting years to do that," Malfoy hissed, grabbing hold of Harry's shirt and guiding him over again.

"You started it," Harry retorted.

"You started it," Malfoy belted back. "With your stalking and your dancing and the..."

"Gryffindor, remember? I'm a go-with-my-gut kind of bloke."

"Yeah?" Malfoy leaned in and Harry's breath hitched. They were so close now, that he could see the faint dusting of freckles on Malfoy's cheekbones, the silver of his eyes. "Show me," Malfoy whispered.

Challenge fucking accepted.

Harry growled and gripped the back of his neck, propelling him forward in silent, urgent demand. Malfoy met him halfway and his blood surged. Smooth, soft lips slipped over his again and Harry growled his approval. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. This was heat and fire and dominance and want. It was so bloody intense— nothing like the innocence of Ginny's kisses or Skyler's smooth confidence.

How could it be? How could they even compare? This was Malfoy.

It was a whole other ball game.

Fucking hell, it was Malfoy!

Things were moving faster now, faltering with the urgency. Malfoy's hands were shifting, his fingers tangling in Harry's hair as he deepened the kiss. Harry shifted his hold and slid his hands down Malfoy's back.

"Take this inside?" Malfoy panted, breaking away for a second.

"My room," Harry muttered. He was doing this. They were going to have sex. He was going to shag Malfoy. He was actually going to...

"I wish I could say this is a surprise."

Harry stopped. The sneering voice rang out abruptly in the silence, catching him off guard. He stiffened, vaguely aware that Malfoy had all but frozen in his grip. The next thing he knew, Malfoy was jerking out of his arms and pushing him away.

"No!"

Blaise cursed in three different languages as he slammed his fist against the window pane. "Shite!" he snarled, taking in the scene in front of him.

"What?" Ginny demanded, trying to jostle him out of the way to get a look.

"What's wrong?" Hermione added, waddling over. "Are they fighting again?"

"Really?" Ron whined from his spot on the bed. "Now we're spying on them? Do you even realise how many degrees of wrong this is?"

"Shh!" Ginny and Hermione hissed in unison.

Blaise paid them no mind as he stared out at the now three figures out in the gardens. His eyes narrowed and his fist clenched. He had forgotten. How could he have forgotten?

"This is bad," he muttered. And things had been going so well too. Harry and Draco were finally making a little headway and now...this was all Blaise's fault. He shouldn't have forgotten. He should have at least warned Draco. There was no way he'd stick around now. Not if he was here...

"Oh no," Hermione murmured. She'd seen it too.

Blaise's jaw clenched. "I'm going down there," he said suddenly. "Maybe I can..."

"No," Hermione said. "Don't. You'll only make it worse for Malfoy."

"But..."

"Think, Blaise. Would you want an audience right now if you were in his place?"

No, he wouldn't. He really wouldn't. Blaise sneered but stayed put. There was nothing he could do to help. Hermione squeezed his shoulder soothingly.

"Let him handle this," she insisted. "It's about time."

Harry tried his very best not to cringe. He failed. To be fair, this was one of his not so stellar moments. There had to be a better way of reacquainting himself with Lucius Malfoy than sticking tongue down his only son's throat.

Shockingly, Lucius didn't seem to care much for it. He hadn't changed much. He still had that regal arrogant air around him— with the stiff posture and the blank, condescending expression. But his eyes flashed dangerously and his mouth was a thin, tight line. Harry palmed his wand discreetly. Lucius Malfoy had attacked him with far less provocation in the past.

For now however, his attention seemed fixed on his son.

"Draco."

There was more accusation than greeting in that little intonation; nothing welcoming about it, in the least. And that wasn't all. Now that he was caught right in the middle of this...whatever it was, Harry could practically feel the tension radiate off the two men.

Why did these things always happen to him?

"Lord Malfoy."

Malfoy's — well, Draco's— cold greeting jerked him back to attention. Harry just about managed to mask his surprise.

Did he just say 'Lord Malfoy'?

He stole a quick glance at the blond and his suspicions were confirmed. Draco's posture was as stiff and rigid as his father's. His eyes were trained on Lucius as if expecting him to attack and his fists were clenching and unclenching in barely suppressed agitation. Harry was certain he had never seen Draco quite like this. He looked...threatened. Harry's sense of foreboding increased. Just what was he missing here?

Lucius recovered first. His grey eyes drifted over his son, pausing slightly as he took in Draco's attire. Draco lifted his chin defiantly, even as Lucius smirked. "It's been a while," the older man said after a beat.

"Six years, give or take," Draco replied tonelessly. The silence crackled around them. "Forgive me; I wasn't exactly expecting to see you here."

Wait, six years? Wasn't that about the time Draco had left the country?

"The Zabinis still count for something in our circle despite their...questionable associations," Lucius drawled. His eyes flicked to Harry who clenched his teeth. When Lucius turned back to Draco, his gaze was sharpened steel. "I suppose it would be too much to hope that you secured an invitation. Or perhaps you're here with the kitchen staff?"

Draco visibly flinched at that. Something dark and coldly protective settled in Harry's chest. He didn't like Lucius' tone and he certainly didn't like the way it made Draco wince, as if in physical pain. "Actually, he's the Best Man," he found himself responding.

Both of them whipped around to him. Draco looked a little shocked— he had either forgotten that Harry was present or he was just stunned to have someone speak on his behalf, Harry wasn't sure which. But Lucius raised a pale brow in mild interest. Harry kept his gaze trained firmly on the elder Malfoy. He wasn't sure why he was involving himself but he could worry about that later.

If Lucius was focused on Harry, then he would leave his son alone. He hadn't missed the hurt in Draco's eyes or the tense way he held himself in his father's presence. He looked very...young under the unrelenting, judging gaze of his sire. Besides, Harry could take on Lucius Bloody Malfoy. Merlin knows he'd had the practice.

"And it speaks," Lucius drawled. "Always where you have no business being, aren't you Potter?"

"One of my many talents," Harry shot back.

"Potter, leave," Draco broke in suddenly. His tone was soft but urgent. He refused to look at Harry, his eyes trained firmly on his father. "This doesn't concern you."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Lucius drawled. "From what I've seen, I'd say it most certainly concerns him." His gaze drifted back to Draco and the smirk gave way to a disparaging sneer. "Tell me, son. Is this what you hope to accomplish by giving up the family name? I would have hoped for better than Potter, at the very least."

Now he was just being insulting. And the implications in that little speech had Harry bristling defensively— even if they were mostly true. He scowled at the man and opened his mouth to retort even as a guilty flush crept up his neck again.

Draco beat him to it.

"So I'm your son now, am I?" he asked quietly. A bitter, painful smile flashed across his face. Something about it cut Harry to the quick. And then Draco laughed shakily and shook his head. "You really need to make up your mind."

"I had hoped you'd see sense after being cast out of the Manor, if only for your mother's sake," Lucius replied coldly. "Clearly, I was mistaken."

"Don't bring Mother into this," Draco hissed dangerously. "This is your doing, not hers. She wants me to be happy. She's not the one who disinherited me for something I can't help."

"I don't claim to understand a mother's heart," Lucius replied dismissively. "The fact remains that you've failed her. This perversion of yours left her heart broken, did you know that? Correct me if I'm wrong, Draco but she hasn't seen you in six years. Do you deny it?"

"You won't let me come home!" Draco yelled back. The tinge of pain and desperation in his voice was impossible to miss. "You won't...you won't even let me see her." He was shaking now and Harry had to physically restrain himself from reaching out to him. Not now. Not here, under Lucius Malfoy's hawk like eye. Those eyes were trained on Draco again, cold and unforgiving. Lucius sneered.

"She doesn't want to see you," he replied smoothly. "She wants to forget you even exist."

"That's not true," Draco whispered. His voice was shaky and there was a wet sheen to his eyes now. Harry swallowed around a painful lump in his throat. This was bad. It was worse than he could have ever imagined...

Lucius smirked and ghosted a pale hand against his robes, brushing some imaginary lint off. "Oh, but it is. Leave this place, Draco. I won't have you upset your mother any more than you already have. It would be better for her if she just forgot about you."

And then he was gone— turning his back on his son without a second thought. Harry's fingers flexed as he debated the merits of hexing an ex Death Eater in the back. Anger coiled deep in his gut. It was nothing less than the bastard deserved after what he'd put his son through. His heart went out to Draco. What must it have been like to...

Draco.

Harry whirled around, just in time to see a slim profile retreating, walking away from him with quick, purposeful strides.

He was leaving. He was going away. Harry wouldn't see him again.

Damn it!

Harry took a moment to curse Lucius Malfoy to the depths of hell, and then he took off.

"Okay, that's it," Blaise announced, as he watched Draco retreating towards the parking lot. "I'm going down there. I have to stop him."

"No!" Hermione snapped, pulling him back. "Don't meddle in this!"

Ron suppressed a snort as he watched his sister, his soon to be brother-in-law and his wife still huddled shamelessly at the window. "Yeah, I think that ship has sailed," he said dryly.

"Stupid Lucius Malfoy," Ginny grumbled petulantly. "He always ruins everything! What are we supposed to do about...oh, look!" She pointed frantically as Harry suddenly took off, running full-speed after Malfoy.

"He's going after him!" Hermione squeaked in excitement. "Okay, this is good. They'll talk and... I can't see them anymore. They're too far away!"

"There's another window in the lobby," Blaise supplied.

Ron sighed as they exchanged delighted looks and took off running again. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," he grumbled, getting up and trudging after them.

For a moment there, he thought Draco had Disapparated.

Harry skidded to a halt in the parking lot, looking around frantically. Not a sign of him.

Harry groaned in despair. Perfect. Just bloody perfect! Draco was gone— possibly forever, all thanks to his rotten father— and Harry didn't even get to say he was sorry for acting like a complete arse. Of course, if he had known what the poor bloke had been through, he wouldn't have but there was no way he could tell Draco that now, could he? He was probably miles away by now, getting a Portkey and disappearing to some country on the other side of the world and...

The unmistakable whirring of an engine cut through his frantic thoughts. Headlights flashed in his face as The Chevy slid out of its spot. Harry whipped around at once.

Of course! The car!

And then he was running again. This seemed to happen a lot these days….

Thankfully, Draco was nice enough to stop all of three inches from him. The window slid down and a blond head poked out. "What?" Draco snapped, glaring at him. "For Merlin's sake, what could you possibly want now, Potter?"

Okay. Here goes nothing.

Harry held his hands out in a placating gesture. "Well, for one thing I'd really like it if you stayed," he said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "Please don't go."

Draco's eyes flashed. Even from this distance, Harry could see the glint of steel, as clear as day. Oh, he was pissed. Draco set his jaw and revved the engine. It thrummed threateningly, a final warning. Harry swallowed. In hindsight, standing in front of a car with an angry Draco Malfoy behind the wheel may not have been one of his best ideas.

Draco confirmed this by revving the car again "Move or I'll run you over," he growled. "I mean it."

"See, that's the thing," Harry blurted hastily. He was aware that he was just rambling now but if he was talking, it meant Draco was listening. And if Draco was listening, at least he wasn't driving away. "I believe you," Harry went on. "I believe that you're going to back up that car and run me over in the next five seconds. But that's exactly why you have to stay."

Draco was unnervingly silent but he didn't take any of Harry's helpful suggestions— which was probably a good thing because Harry didn't really know what the hell he was doing here. All he knew was that Draco couldn't leave. Not just yet. Not until Harry had figured out just how he'd gone from 'Malfoy' to 'Draco' in last half hour without him even realising it.

"What does that mean?" Draco demanded suspiciously.

Harry cracked a rueful grin. "It's going to be a boring wedding without you, that's all."

"You've been trying to get me out the door since the moment I got here," Draco accused angrily. "Well, congratulations, Potter. You've finally got someone in your corner. Now please, just get out of my way so I can get the hell out of here. I can't even..." He slumped back in the seat and scrubbed a tired hand through his hair, messing it all up. "He was right," he said softly. "I don't belong here. I never should have come back."

"Hey, no. Don't...don't talk like that, okay?" He approached cautiously, heaving a sigh of relief when Draco made no move to rev the car least he wasn't gone. Yet. But he would, if Harry didn't stop him. So, he took a chance. He opened the car door and slipped in, all the while aware of the grey eyes still glaring suspiciously at him.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Draco asked flatly.

"One of my many stellar qualities," Harry replied with a shameless grin. It was true, after all. Trust Malfoy to call him out on it. It was nice to know some things never changed. And then, as he stole a glance at the angry, hurt young man next to him, long fingers clutching at the steering wheel and eyes trained dead ahead, he had to admit that sometimes things did change— and not always for the better.

Harry spoke up finally, because clearly Draco wasn't going to do it. "What happened back there...well, that was bloody awful. Just brutal."

Draco huffed but the strained lines of his mouth lifted just a bit. "You don't say," he drawled. He turned to cast an accusing glare in Harry's direction. "I told you to leave. It was none of your damn business."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Draco sighed and leaned back in his seat, exposing the long line of his throat. Harry tried very hard not to stare. This was so not the time.

"Don't be," Draco muttered. "It's what you do. It seems you're just meant to see me at my worst."

Harry managed another rueful smile. If that wasn't an understatement, he didn't know what was. "If it helps at all, I don't think many people could have done what you did back there."

"Most people have the sense to cut their losses and give in," Draco retorted. "Especially when Lucius Malfoy is involved."

"That's true. I guess you and I have something in common, then."

Draco stony expression gave way to surprise. Much better, Harry thought. He could actually get used to the sight of those wide eyes and parted lips. Maybe under slightly different circumstances but…

"Don't let him drive you off again," he said softly. "If he can't understand why you left— why you're you—then that's his problem. Not yours."

"I don't care what he thinks," Draco muttered bitterly. "But…"

He didn't finish. He didn't have to. Harry could read it loud and clear in his eyes. What if his mother hated him? What if he had hurt her? That's what he was really afraid of. What if he met her here and she turned away from him? Harry took another chance. He reached out and took Draco's hand, squeezing around those slim fingers in reassurance. Draco stiffened but didn't pull away. Something about it felt...right. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to convince Draco to stay. He just had to.

"The wedding is tomorrow. Stay until then," Harry suggested tentatively. "It wouldn't be the same without you. And when it's over, well...you can always leave if you want to."

There was silence for a while. Harry waited as Draco thought about it, drumming his fingers against the wheel. Harry tried not to squirm in impatience.

Finally, it was Draco who spoke. "I think I need to...not think about this for now," he said finally. "Or ever."

Harry chuckled. "That sounds about right. So, do you want to go and— I don't know— just hang out somewhere? Relax a bit?"

Did he just do that? Did he just ask Draco out on a date, sort of? Harry was starting to wonder if he would ever make sense of the stunts he was pulling these days.

Malfoy seemed a bit surprised at the offer, but he didn't protest. Instead, he cocked his head in just the barest indication of interest. "What do you have in mind?"

Harry tried not to let his smile turn into an all out grin. "Come on," he said, getting out of the car. "Take a walk with me."

"Okay, they're getting out of the car now..."

"Are they holding hands? Are they... Blaise, I can't see anything with you crowding me like that!"

"Will you two keep it down a bit? They're just walking now. Where are they going? There's nothing there..."

"Isn't it obvious? They're going to that lighthouse in the woods. Harry loves that spot. He goes there all the time."

Hermione, Ginny and Blaise gaped at Ron who cleared his throat uncomfortably. "What?" he demanded petulantly. "I want to play too."

Hermione laughed and pulled him in for a kiss, while Blaise and Ginny smiled as they stared out the window at the two retreating figures. "You know," Ginny whispered, leaning against him. "I think we can consider this challenge completed."

Blaise just smiled and leaned in for a kiss.

The stars were brighter than the last time he had come here. The full moon was out and there was a still silence surrounding the lighthouse, peaceful and tranquil. It really was beautiful, and yet Harry couldn't bring himself to look. All his attention was focused on the man beside him.

Draco's lean body looked softer in the moonlight somehow. All those sharp planes and angles gave way to something less severe. Or perhaps, Harry had just never taken the time to really look at the curve of Draco's pale neck, the smooth dip of his back and those long, sweeping eyelashes playing off the dim light as he looked out into the distance.

It took him a minute to realise Draco was talking to him.

"I have to hand it to you, Potter," he said, with just a hint of teasing in his voice. "A rusty, abandoned lighthouse that might collapse and send us to our deaths at any second. You sure know how to make a bloke feel special."

Harry chuckled, joining him at the railing. "Only the best for a handsome devil like you," he teased back.

Draco didn't reply save for a slight smile. They had talked for what seemed like hours and it was possible that they had actually touched upon anything and everything that had happened to both of them in the last six years.

Harry had spoken fondly of his job and his life, coming out and his never ending search for the right person. Draco had been hesitant at first but eventually, he'd told Harry of his adventures abroad— he seemed particularly fond of India, for some reason— and how good it felt to come home, even if he had enjoyed seeing the world.

Now they were standing there, looking out at the stars in silence. It was a nice silence, though. Comfortable. Oddly intimate. For once, Harry felt like nothing else needed to be said and he didn't think he had ever felt that way before. No, this was new.

He remembered the first time he had come to this place, just a few nights before Draco had shown up. The promise he had made. He had marked this place for someone special, someone important. The...whoever he was fated to be with. Somehow— for whatever unfathomable reason— he had ended up here with Draco Malfoy of all people.

Was there a reason they had come together like this? Did it mean something? Was the universe finally coming through for him?

He didn't know. But for once, he really didn't care so much about where he ended up so long as he could take his time getting there.

So long as he could take his time to figure out this man who infuriated and intrigued him; who excited and challenged him; who was insanely hard to understand but so easy to talk to. Someone with so many different sides to him that Harry wondered if he would ever see them all.

And he really wanted to see them all.

It felt exciting. It felt...right. Even if this was all it would ever be, it still felt right. And the more they talked, the more he heard about Draco's story, the more right it felt.

"Let me see if I understand this," Harry said after a beat of silence. "So you're the reason Hermione came home, you're what made Ginny come back, you're the one who sent Blaise back to raise his daughter and you brought Ron here."

He had heard the stories from his friends before, but to hear Draco's side of it... it really was astounding how many times their paths had almost crossed. Like there was something bigger at play— fate or destiny or something— not that Harry would ever admit it. Draco hardly needed another reason to make fun of him.

"When you say it like that it just sounds mad," Draco replied dryly.

Harry chuckled. "It's just baffling."

Draco cocked his head enquiringly and Harry shifted closer.

"Even when you were gone, you were still such a huge part of my life. You were just there and I didn't even know it."

Draco grinned and nudged him. "Why do you think it took us this long to find each other?" he asked. "Why now? Why here?"

"I don't know," Harry whispered back. "But I'm willing to find out if you are."

Draco didn't reply. Instead, he looped his arms around Harry and brought their lips together. It was different, this time. Soft, almost chaste, a barely there flutter of that soft mouth under his, and yet Harry could have sworn nothing had ever felt this good, this right before.

"Harry," Draco murmured against his mouth. "Thank you...for asking me to stay. No one's ever done that before."

"Don't thank me yet," Harry replied. "Not unless you plan to stick around for a long time."

Draco smiled against his lips. "You know, I think I just might. It looks like there's finally something to come back for."

Harry's heart soared as they shared another kiss.

The Wedding...

"I can't do this. I can't do this!" Blaise whispered frantically as he was all but dragged to the altar, one Best Man on each side. He cursed inwardly. If he'd tried hard enough, he probably could have talked Harry into letting him slip out 'for a walk' but Draco was too smart to fall for that. Nevertheless, here he was eight minutes to the big day and he had every intention of giving it one last shot.

"It's not natural!" he protested haplessly, dragging his feet. "I'm going to wreck it. I'll say my vows wrong or drop the rings or something. What was I thinking? I'm not made for marriage! I'm a playboy! I'm supposed to be in bars, making bad life choices. Helping young women make bad life choices! It's what I do!"

"And this," Draco drawled, tightening his grip on Blaise's arm, "is why you have Two Best Men."

Harry snickered and jostled Blaise for good measure. "It's too late," he agreed cheerfully. "This is it, mate. End of the line."

"No," Blaise whined fretfully. The altar where his entire life would change was just a little ways down. His friends and family would be watching with hopeful faces and excited whispers, the Minister would smile benevolently and then...he would say the words and he'd be wed to Ginny for the rest of his life. Married to the most beautiful, wonderful girl in the world...

For the rest of his life.

"No," Blaise whispered, practically paralysed with fear. "No no no no…"

Harry and Draco exchanged exasperated glances as they watched him descend into near hysterics. Fortunately, Ron chose that moment to amble up. "And how are we doing this fine day?" he asked cheerfully.

Draco rolled his eyes and gestured to Blaise who was holding his head in his hands now. "Exhibit A," he drawled.

Ron snickered and shook his head. "All you had to do was keep your paws off my sister," he informed Blaise. "But if it makes you feel any better, Ginny's had a few panic attacks of her own."

Blaise's head snapped up. "She has?"

"Tried to climb out the window, if I'm not mistaken. Mione stopped her in time."

"The window!" Blaise moaned miserably. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Ron ignored him and ushered Harry forward. "You're up, Harry," he said. "Get him in shape, will you? Mum's going to have a fit if there are tworunners at the wedding."

Blaise managed another whine of abject misery before Harry stepped in. "No one's going to run," he said. "Not on my watch."

He put his hands on Blaise's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Now look," he said firmly. "You are one of the most reckless, confusing, infuriating people I've ever met. You know, barring a few." He had to fight a smile as he caught Draco's eye roll. Instead he focused on calming the terrified groom who looked fit to bolt any second. "You're insane, you're impossible, you're responsible for more than half the messes I get into on a regular basis and sometimes I just don't get how you ended up being one of my best friends. But here we are. Six years and we're still here. And I know you can do this because you're Blaise Zabini. You've got a plan for everything, a play for every situation and when you don't, you make it up as you go along. That's what you're going to do today. I promise when it's done, you'll come out just fine. Like you always do."

His fine speech was met by impressed silence. For once, even Blaise seemed to have nothing to say. But finally, a slight smile tugged at his lips and he nodded. "Because I'm awesome," he added tentatively.

Harry chuckled and clapped his back. "Because you're awesome," he agreed.

That helped. Blaise nodded and straightened himself. He brushed a competent hand over his suit and fixed his tie. "Okay," he said, half to himself. "Who's got the rings?"

"Right here," Draco replied, patting his pocket.

"The vows?"

"You know them by heart," Harry told him.

Blaise squared his shoulders and nodded again. "I guess we're ready then."

"Not quite," Ron cut in suddenly. "There's one more thing to take care of before this goes any further." He stepped up and clasped Blaise's shoulder, looking uncharacteristically sombre. "You're a nutter," Ron said. "But I can't think of a better man for my little sister."

Blaise smiled. "Thanks, Ron. That means a lot."

"So, I've got a little something for you. Just for old time's sake. This goes out to you, mate. I just want you to know you bloody well deserve it."

Blaise froze like he'd been Petrified. Ron's grin widened ominously. Realisation struck and Harry just about managed an incredulous bark of laughter before...

SLAP!

"Yes!" Draco cheered as Blaise went crashing to the floor. "Well done, Weasley! Consider us even."

"And that's five," Ron grinned smugly, dusting his hands off.

Harry chuckled and helped a shaky Blaise to his feet. "Nice, Ron," he quipped dryly. "Now we'll never get him out there and…"

"Wait," Blaise broke in suddenly. He stared up at Ron with wide, unblinking eyes. "Did you say five?"

Ron smiled. "I said five."

An incredulous grin broke out on Blaise's face. "He said five! That's all of them! I'm free!"

Ron clapped his shoulder. "Congratulations mate. Now, do you feel like getting out there or do you want to sit down for a bit and…"

"Are you kidding?" Blaise retorted, still grinning delightedly. "I'm free! This is the single best day of my life. Now what are you lot waiting for? Let's get out there and do this!"

They watched in amusement as he marched off, head held high and shoulders squared.

"And that is a wedding present," Ron said smugly, dusting his hands off. He gave them a parting wink before heading back to check up on Ginny.

Harry just chuckled in amusement and set off after the determined groom, taking their place beside him at the altar. And if Draco slipped a hand in his as they stood there, nobody thought to mention it.

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present for the first time ever, Mr and Mrs Zabini.

The announcement rang out accompanied by thunderous applause. Harry smiled and raised a glass as Blaise and Ginny shared another kiss. So much for nerves. He didn't think they'd ever looked happier. Ginny beamed as Dani clapped and squealed in Bianca's lap. Blaise suffered thumps on the back and handshakes from his enthusiastic brothers-in-law and Molly smiled and dabbed her eyes.

"They did it," he murmured, taking in the scene. "Merlin help us all, those two are actually married."

"I give it six weeks," Draco replied. He laughed and dodged as Harry shoved him playfully. "Oh, fine. They look good," he relented, letting Harry slip an arm around him. His eyes softened as he regarded the happy couple. "That's the real thing. That right there is the beginning of something beautiful."

Harry's eyes drifted to him. "It is," he agreed. Draco's smile widened and he squeezed Harry's hand.

"Harry, I…"

"Oi, you two!" Ron called out. "What are you still doing here? They're looking for you on the dance floor."

Right. The Dance. He saw Blaise and Ginny making their way to the floor. Ginny beckoned urgently, indicating that he and Draco were next. Harry smiled. Somehow, he had pictured this moment very differently. It was funny how things turned out. His hand slipped around Draco's waist and held tight.

"We're coming, Weasley," Draco called back. "Don't get your wand in a knot." He rolled his eyes as Ron discreetly flipped him the bird and turned back to Harry. "Ready?"

Harry smiled and shook his head, gently pushing Draco forward. "Actually, I think you should have the first dance with someone else."

Draco frowned in confusion. He opened his mouth to respond but then his eyes followed Harry's gaze to one of the tables in the back.

Even from across the room, Narcissa Malfoy was unmistakable. She looked resplendent in her pale blue robes, smiling and conversing politely with Bianca while Lucius Malfoy looked on with a bored, disdainful expression. Harry had been watching her since the beginning of the ceremony. The way her eyes drifted to Draco ever now and then, the hesitance to approach him, the same questioning uncertainty Harry had seen in Draco's eyes so often...

Harry had decided to do something about it, Lucius Malfoy be damned.

Draco froze in his tracks. He went so far as to take a step back. Harry gave him a gentle push forward. "Go on," he whispered.

"She doesn't want to see me," Draco muttered, trying to pull away from him. "You heard him. She doesn't..."

"Maybe you should let her tell you that," Harry insisted. Draco looked ready to argue, but Harry was having none of it. He pushed him forward again. "Trust me," he ordered softly. "And save me a dance."

Draco faltered and swallowed thickly. "If this ends badly," he told Harry, "you owe me a lot more than a dance."

"I'll be here."

That seemed to help. Draco smiled hesitantly and squeezed his hand for reassurance. "You better be," he replied. He squared his shoulders and turned, moving forward. Harry stiffened instinctively as Lucius turned and caught sight of him. His eyes narrowed but Draco just held his head high, walking past him towards his mother. Harry's heart hammered in his chest. Suddenly, he was nervous. He just hoped this turned out alright.

Narcissa turned around.

And just like that Harry knew his fears were unfounded.

"Draco." Her voice was barely a whisper but he heard it. He saw her eyes light up with pure joy. Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch him, as if afraid he would disappear again. Something tightened in Harry's chest. This was clearly a woman who had missed her son dearly, every single second he'd been away.

"Mother," Draco greeted. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he reached out to take her hand. "You look well."

"As do you," Narcissa murmured affectionately. She traced a slim hand across his cheek, brushing his hair back gently. "My boy. I've missed you so much..."

"I'm home now," Draco promised fervently. "May I have this dance?"

"Narcissa," Lucius growled, stepping in at once. "Don't speak to that…"

"Oh, shut up," Draco retorted, not even bothering to look at him. For now, he only had eyes for his mother.

And she only had eyes for him. Narcissa smiled and took his arm. "I thought you'd never ask, darling," she replied, leading him away without as much as a backwards glance.

Harry grinned and stepped back without a word, giving them way as Draco led her to the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, he caught Lucius gnashing his teeth. Harry shot him a cheeky grin and raised a glass. Lucius glared daggers at him and stormed off, making a dramatic exit through the back door. And that was that. Harry smiled and sipped his champagne, watching Draco and his mother glided across the dance floor.

Good times were here again. Good times, indeed.

It took a while before he could finally claim the promised dance. Now that Narcissa finally had her precious son around again, she wasn't exactly happy about letting him out of her sights. Harry had to swear up and down that he would absolutely not give Draco any access to a Portkey but eventually, he did get his dance.

"So, how about it?" he asked Draco, when he finally had him back in his arms again. "Did it go as well as you hoped?"

"Better than I hoped," Draco replied. "I suppose I don't have to go away again. Not for a while, at least."

Something twisted in Harry's chest at the thought of Draco leaving, even hypothetically. "I'm glad you're staying," he replied finally. Draco gave him a questioning look and Harry hastened to follow up his line of reasoning. "I mean, for your mother. I'm sure she's happy you're finally home."

"She is," Draco agreed quietly. He lowered his gaze and leaned into Harry. "I'm...hoping she isn't the only one."

Grey eyes stared at him with a mixture of hope and apprehension. Harry's pulse thrummed and he leaned in closer, just brushing his lips against Draco's. "She's not," he whispered. "And don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled you're going to be around for a while. But if you decide to take off again, you should probably know that I'm coming right after you."

He knew he'd do it too. People had come and people had gone and people had come back again, but he had never thought to follow them. But with Draco, there was no question about it. Until last week, he hadn't even known they would ever cross paths again. But now that they had, now that all of this had happened, he knew it was true. He felt it right down to his bones. He would follow the boy with the grey eyes anywhere.

Draco laughed and kissed him. "You didn't go after anyone else. What makes me so special?"

That, Harry conceded was an excellent question. Fortunately, he knew the right answer.

"You're Draco," he said.

You're The One.

Well, maybe it was a bit soon to jump to conclusions. But Harry had a good feeling about this. He really did. Especially when Draco's smile widened and his eyes lit up, and he leaned in for another kiss. Harry didn't think he would ever get tired of that smile…

"Isn't that just precious?"

Of course.

Harry sighed, disentangled himself from Draco. "What?" he grumbled, scowling as Blaise and Ginny sauntered over. "We're busy. Go play happy couple somewhere else."

"We plan to," Ginny retorted, jostling him playfully. She grinned and took Blaise's arm. "We just thought we'd say goodbye before taking off for Morocco."

Oh, of course. They were leaving for their around the world trip. Harry had forgotten about that. "Now?" he asked. "As in, right this very second now?"

Blaise nodded. "We have a Portkey waiting."

"Wow." His best friends were leaving. And married. And he had no idea when he'd see them again. "I'll miss you."

"No, you won't," Ginny grinned, giving Draco a pointed look. "I have a feeling you're going to be very busy from now on."

Draco smirked and leaned against Harry again. "Yes well, we're just going to pretend we have no idea you lot had anything to do with this," he informed her. He raised an eyebrow as she exchanged a semi guilty look with her new husband.

"We have no idea what you're talking about," Blaise informed him firmly. "Also, please don't disappear again. I don't want to come home and find out you're in Yemen or something."

Draco smiled. "Oh, I don't know," he said, sharing a look with Harry. "I think I'll stick around for a while."

Harry grinned and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Go on and have your little world tour," he told Blaise. "He's not going anywhere." His arms tightened possessively around Draco but he didn't seem to mind all that much.

"I'm not," he agreed softly. "There's finally something to stay for."

"Ugh, they're disgusting," Ginny put in with an exaggerated shudder. "Promise me, we'll never be like that, Blaise."

Blaise chuckled and put his arm around her. "You can count on…"

"Um, guys?"

Everyone turned around. Ron was standing right behind them, looking absolutely terrified. Harry stared at his pale, shaky friend and alarm surged inside him. As if on cue, his Auror instincts went on high alert at once.

"Ron? What's going on? Why are you..."

Ron cleared his throat, wringing his hands nervously. "So, it looks like we've got a slight problem."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

Harry jumped. He could have sworn that Hermione's resounding shriek was echoing all the way from the other side of the inn. What in the...

"I swear I'm going to kill you!" she railed on. "You complete jackass! This is all your fau-aaaugh!"

"Good grief, what did you do?" Ginny demanded, wincing and rubbing her ear.

Ron swallowed audibly and turned back to them slowly. His next words brought their entire lives to a standstill.

"The baby's coming."

Harry registered very little save for those three words, Draco's fingers tightening reflexively around his own and a collective gasp from the rest of the group.

"What?!" Ginny shrilled. "What do you mean...now?"

"Ron! When I get my hands on you, I'm going to…ohmygod, get it out of me!"

Ron looked about one step from collapsing with sheer fright. "Now," he whimpered.

"But she's just…"

"Apparently, little Hugo decided to make an early appearance!" Ron snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, we weren't exactly prepared!"

"You randy, inconsiderate son of a ..."

Draco winced. "Weasley, I'm not an expert on these things but I would suggest getting her to St Mungos right now— preferably before she disembowels you."

Ron nodded dazedly, apparently still a little shell-shocked. "Mum's on it. We're taking the Floo to St Mungo's. I just... oh Merlin, the baby's coming. I'm...I'm going to be a father." He turned frantic, beseeching eyes on his friends. "I'm not ready for this. I can't do this. I'm..."

"You'll be fine, Ron," Harry soothed at once, patting his back gently. "You've got this."

Ron nodded slowly, training his hopeful gaze on Harry. "Come with me?" he asked. "I could really use a friend there."

"Of course," Harry replied at once, putting a firm hand on his shoulder. "I'm there, mate. Now get going. I'm right behind you. I just need to say goodbye to Draco and..."

"I'm coming too," Draco cut in. He smirked when Harry turned to give him a surprised look. "In for a Knut, in for a Galleon, yes?"

Harry grinned, giving his hand a grateful squeeze. "Okay then," he announced. "Let's..."

"Wait for us!" Ginny screeched. She kicked off her shoes and lifted up her voluminous dress. "Okay, I'm set. Let's go!"

Ron stared at her. "Don't you have a Portkey to Morocco in ten minutes?"

Ginny waved him off impatiently. "If you think I'm going to miss my nephew being born, you're barking! Morocco will be there tomorrow or next year, or whatever. We'll wing it! Now are we talking, or are we walking? Let's move, people!"

"Right behind you, Mrs Zabini," Blaise drawled, hoisting her shoes over his shoulder and taking off after her. He grabbed a stunned Ron's arm and propelled him forward. "Snap out of it, brother-in-law. Breathe in, breathe out. There you go, that's the ticket..."

Draco raised an eyebrow as they stumbled off. "Well, at least it won't be boring," he quipped.

Harry laughed and wrapped an arm around him. "Everyday with this mad lot is an adventure," he said, hurrying towards the Floo. "Stick with me, Draco. At the very least, I can promise you won't get bored."

Draco laughed out loud. His eyes shone with amusement and he quickened his footsteps to match Harry's. "Come on then. Let's go have an adventure."

Just before they stepped in the Floo, Harry stole a kiss that Draco was only too willing to give away.

He didn't know why, but...he had a good feeling about this.

He really did.

Next up: The Epilogue. Thank you everyone!

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