Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Patria Potestas: Blood Ties	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Sirius Views: 17608 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than my usual, but I hope you guys enjoy it all the same. The final posting for this fic will be on Friday, not Thursday. My Thursdays are hella busy right now, so I'm pushing the last update back by one day. Sorry!
Chapter Eleven – To Have and To Hold

8^th April, 2005

It was at times like this when Harry was eternally grateful for the wonder that was the Dreamless Sleep potion. He was quite certain that he would not have managed it otherwise, but when he awoke the morning of his wedding, he felt as though he hadn't slept at all.

Harry was still in his dressing gown when Hermione knocked on his door and let herself in. Even from his spot on the floor before the fire he could smell good coffee and fresh pastry, but he didn't get up. Hermione seemed to understand, and she stepped softly over to Harry and pressed a paper cup into his hands.

The textile sensation of paper and wax gave him pause, and he looked down at the cup.

“It's muggle-brewed coffee, not wizard,” she explained, “somehow using magic to make coffee makes it taste...weird.”

Harry grunted his agreement, remembering the slightly off-tasting coffee they'd had at Hogwarts all those years ago and sipped the scalding beverage without comment. Though it perked him up, it also made his stomach cramp and made his anxiety more acute. Hermione set down the bag next to him and Harry pulled out a chocolate-filled croissant. He broke off a huge chunk with his teeth, and didn't say a word. He was afraid that his voice would come out as nothing more than a squeak if he spoke, and was therefore content to eat his way through the bag of food Hermione had brought with her, instead of trying to hold a conversation.

“If you keep eating those, you won't fit into your dress robes,” Hermione remarked half an hour later after he'd eaten not just a chocolate croissant, but also an enormous apple fritter, a raspberry danish, and four jelly-filled doughnuts.

“I'll use an enlarging charm on them if I need to,” Harry muttered thickly, “I'm just nervous.”

“And if you keep eating and puke all over Sirius at the ceremony?”

Harry glared at her, and pushed the bag away from him.

“I don't want to talk about it, Hermione,” Harry muttered, washing down the last dregs of food in his mouth with more coffee, “I know I can't avoid it any more, but...I just don't want to discuss it.”

“Well, we'll have to eventually,” she said gently, “just to go over what has to happen, but I just want you to remember that Sirius has done everything in his power to make this easy on you. He's not about to stop now. He loves you, Harry.”

“I know, Hermione,” Harry snapped, then immediately winced. “Sorry. I'm just...nervous.”

“I know, Harry,” she replied with a sad sort of smile, and she did not look even a little upset that he'd snapped at her. “But...one way or another, it'll be over soon.”

Harry and Hermione whiled away the afternoon in peaceful quiet. Harry would have liked to go out, have one last hurrah, so to speak, but his nerves at what was coming were so intense that he was certain that he'd faint if he tried to do anything too strenuous.

At three, after Harry had taken a vial of calming draught, Hermione sat him down, and with liberal amounts of hair potion, she got Harry's hair to behave—at least partially. When she'd turned Harry bacl around so that he could see himself in the mirror, he found his hair to be artfully tousled and sleek, like he'd just stepped out of some sort of high-end beauty salon.

“Wow, Hermione, I...wow.” Harry stared at himself, eyes wide as he tilted his head left and right, slowly taking in the sight of his hair. What amazed him most was how grown up he looked, and not like an awkward teenager who had no idea how to control his own hair.

“You're welcome,” she said with a short laugh, “now come on, you need to get into your dress robes, it's almost time to go.”

Harry was amazed at how little the words unnerved him, and he chalked it up to being so completely beyond nervous that he had simply lost the ability to react anymore. Instead, he nodded stiffly and shuffled off to get changed.

Harry's initial observation of the robes were correct, and they were indeed very similar to the ones he had worn for the Rite of Acceptance. Instead of simply a shirt and pair of trousers it was the usual style of robes, and under them he wore a pair of simple white trousers and a button down shirt. It was a lot of clothing to wear in April, but like most things in the wizarding world, they breathed so nicely that Harry did not feel overheated in the least.

Less than an hour to go... Harry thought, and swallowed his nervousness behind a neutral mask. He turned left and right in front of the mirror, taking in his appearance, and though he had to admit that he looked nice, it did not help to calm him at all.

A soft tapping on his bedroom door drew him from his thoughts, and he turned to see that Hermione had changed into a set of simple dress robes in a deep indigo. She'd done up her hair nicely, and though it was piled on her head in a messy bun, it still looked elegant enough for a wedding.

“I have something for you before we get going,” she said, and pulled a small velvet box from her pocket and handed it to him. “Call it a wedding present.”

He moved to thank her, but could not find his voice. Hermione seemed to understand, and merely smiled warmly in response. He flicked open the box, and inside was a round, shiny gemstone. It was a dark brown, almost black stone, and on the bottom it gave way to warmer streaks of brown and orange. Harry lifted it out of the little box and turned it over in his fingers, eyeing it curiously.

“It's a sardonyx crystal,” Hermione explained, “if you keep it on your person, it's supposed to help with marital happiness and...and things.” She paused, as though trying to find the right words, and looked back at him with a pained, but hopeful expression upon her face.” I just...Harry, I know you're nervous, but I want you to be happy.”

Harry looked up from the stone in his hand to his friend, and he could see her eyes shining hopefully, clearly nervous about how he might react to the small gift. He pocketed the stone, its small weight comforting, rather than nerve-racking, and he closed the distance between them as he enveloped Hermione in a tight hug.

Harry held Hermione close, resting his chin on her shoulder, and tried to put all the unspoken gratitude he simply couldn't put into words into the embrace. He felt a swell of warmth in his chest, and he clenched his eyes shut momentarily, somewhat overwhelmed at the idea of what would have happened if Hermione had been unwilling to help him through all this. At that moment, he had never been more grateful for her willingness to hold his hand throughout the entire courtship, and help him get out of the other side of it more or less in one piece.

“Thank you, Hermione,” Harry whispered softly, “thank you for everything.”

~*~

At exactly four o'clock, Harry and Hermione stepped out of his flat for the last time. Hermione had charmed the last of his things to transport themselves to his new home, and though his stomach was still in knots, he was nowhere near as nervous as he thought that he would be.

“Are you ready?” Hermione asked, and Harry laughed, though the sound that escaped him was closer to something of a hysterical giggle.

“No.”

“Great,” Hermione grinned at him, “let's go then.”

Harry gripped tightly to Hermione as she turned on the spot, and anchored to his friend, they were off.

They reappeared in what seemed to be the middle of a forest.

Harry blinked in confusion, and saw that Sirius, Andromeda, Molly and Arthur, the Ministry official, and the priest were already there. Sirius was wearing similar robes to his, though without the high collar or silver designs. A long table had been set up, holding a single golden goblet, a plate of small cakes. There were a few other instruments upon the table that Harry didn't recognize, but he didn't have a chance to wonder what they were for very long as Hermione had begun to hiss in his ear as they approached the others, explaining the significance of why they were outside and not in a chapel. In his nervous state however, Harry didn't catch any of it.

“Well, now that we are all present, are you ready to begin, Mr Black? Mr Potter?” The priest prompted, and both Harry and Sirius nodded. Harry was somewhat relieved to see that Sirius's stiff reaction to the question was very similar to his, and it was heartening to see that at least he was not alone in his nervousness over the proceedings. Hermione steered Harry to the left end of the table and looped her arm through his, while Andromeda mirrored her, positioning Sirius at the opposite end.

“In the traditions of our forebears, Sirius Orion Black initiated a courtship, which was accepted upon the thirteenth of August, in the year of 2004,” the priest began, “seven months, three weeks, and four days from that acceptance we stand here to join the Suitor with his Intended. Miss Granger, Mrs Tonks, please take leave of your charges.”

Hermione and Andromeda, almost in sync with one another stepped back from Sirius and Harry. Harry felt strangely abandoned without Hermione nearby, but he did his best to not let his unease show on his face.

“Sirius Orion Black, Harry James Potter,” the priest prompted with a great sweeping gesture of his arms, as though he was speaking to them before a large crowd, “please come forward and join hands.”

Harry stepped forward and Sirius mirrored him, the look in his eyes carrying such warm adoration that Harry felt himself go pink under the older man's gaze. They stopped just shy of one another, and they lifted their hands, twining them together. Harry felt his stomach churn a little, but kept his eyes fixed upon Sirius, and did not even turn when the priest's wand tip rested against the top of their intertwined hands.

“Sirius Orion Black,” the priest prompted, “do you so swear to bind yourself to Harry James Potter in love, loyalty, and trust, to treat him with respect, to love him unconditionally, in richness and poverty, in sickness and in health, from this moment forth until your death?”

“I do so swear,” Sirius replied at once, and his hands tensed around Harry's ever so slightly.

A red silk ribbon snaked from the priest's wand and wound itself around their hands.

“Harry James Potter,” the priest said, and Harry felt his stomach turn over. “Do you so swear to bind yourself to Sirius Orion Black in love, loyalty, and trust, to treat him with respect, to love him unconditionally in richness and poverty, in sickness and in health, from this moment forth until your death?”

“I d-do so swear,” Harry stuttered, and winced at the stammer that had slipped into his words. Sirius smiled warmly at him, and once more Harry felt the colour rise in his cheeks.

A second red ribbon shot from the priest's wand and wound around their hands, then the man tapped the ribbons once, and they faded. In its place, identical golden bands appeared on their ring fingers, with Harry's settling itself just in front of the engagement ring he still wore. Sirius pulled one of his hands away and turned to face the table, and Harry mimicked him.

“Now is the time for us to give thanks to the Gods for that which sustains us,” the priest said as he lifted a narrow, blunted dagger, its metal handle decorated with woven Celtic knots. He held the handle between his palms, blade pointing down, and he dipped the tip into the goblet, which Harry could see was filled with some sort of golden ale. “In like fashion may male join with female, for the happiness of both. May this union promote life; let all be fruitful, and let wealth be spread throughout all the lands.”

The priest removed the knife and set it aside, drank from the goblet, then offered it to Sirius. He accepted it and drank deeply, then handed it to Harry, who mirrored Sirius's actions. He handed it back to the priest, and he set it back down on the table.

The priest then lifted the plate of simple white cakes, held it high above his head for a moment, then lowered it back to a normal level, and balanced it in one hand while he lifted the knife again, and tapped each cake lightly with its tip as he spoke, “this food is a blessing of the Gods to our bodies. Let us partake of it freely. And, as we share, let us remember always to see to it that aught that we have we share with those who have nothing. As we enjoy these gifts of the Gods, let us remember that without the Gods, we would have nothing.”

The priest set down the knife and balanced the plate in both hands as he presented it to Harry and Sirius, “eat and drink. Be happy. Share and give thanks. So mote it be!”

“So mote it be!” echoed Sirius, Andromeda, Molly, and Arthur, and Harry imitated them, stumbling over the words a little. He could hear that Hermione had voiced the interjection as awkwardly as he had. Harry wasn't given very much time to dwell on this fact, as with a faint, encouraging smile, the priest first offered the plate to Harry.

With mildly shaking hands he accepted one of the cakes, then Sirius took one, followed by Hermione, Andromeda, Molly, and Arthur.

Harry bit into it, and he found the lemon cake to be studded with roasted sunflower seeds and bits of citrus rind. Despite the sweet cake in his mouth, it tasted like ash to him. Harry's gaze was drawn from the cake as he stared down at his left hand, unable to meet Sirius's eye as he watched how the gold of his wedding ring refracted in the low, dying sunlight.

He was tied to his godfather in marriage.

For life.

Even after everything, after so much had changed between them, Harry was still unable to shake off that last tendril of fear that was tied in so closely to what was to happen between them all too soon.

After the cakes, the ale was passed around again, then it was only after they'd signed the marriage contract (Harry's hands shaking so badly that he found it was a miracle that he could hold the quill steady at all) they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

Harry had lost count of the number of timed they'd kissed over the last few months, but as Sirius drew him close, their chests pressed together and the older man's arms linked at the small of his back, Harry felt his heart flutter a little in a way that he knew wasn't out of nerves. His breath caught, and one of Sirius's hands moved to cradle Harry's cheek, his palm rough with hard calluses at the base of his fingers from his work with his motorbikes, but it did not feel unpleasant at all. Sirius's expression was unreadable, intensely focused as he gazed at Harry, and even though Harry could all but feel the mixture of anguish and joy coming off the older man, none of it showed on his face.

Harry couldn't quite understand why Sirius seemed to be trying to hide his feelings from him, especially on today of all days, but all thoughts fled from his mind as Sirius drew Harry closer and pulled him into their first marital kiss.

It was as overwhelming as every other kiss they had shared up to that point, and Harry lifted his arms to drape them uncertainly over Sirius's shoulders, linking his fingers together at the back of his neck to try and hide his trembling. A tear came unbidden to his eye, and when it trickled down his cheek Sirius brushed it away without pause.

“Its okay, Harry,” Sirius whispered as they broke apart, smiling sadly down at the young man. “I know you're scared, but...” his hold on Harry tightened slightly, “it'll all be okay. You'll see.”

Offering Sirius a small, watery smile, Harry nodded.

At the end, Harry took his time saying his goodbyes.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said softly before she threw her arms around Harry's neck, drawing him into a tight hug. “I'm so proud of you. I know it's been hard, and you got through it, see?”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Harry agreed, his voice a little hoarse, though at the same time he wasn't sure how much of his own words he actually believed. “Thanks Hermione, for everything. You've been amazing throughout all this.” Hermione smiled warmly, and gave him one more squeeze before she let him go and stepped back, turning to Sirius while Arthur and Molly approached him.

“Harry dear,” Molly said warmly, and pulled him into a hug. “I'm so proud of you. You were set another seemingly impossible task, and you got through it with grace and dignity. If Lily and James were here, I know that they would be as proud of you as I am.”

“Thanks Mrs—er, I mean, Molly,” Harry replied with a weak smile. He knew they all meant well, but their words of praise did little to make him feel any better, or any less nervous about what was to come.

Arthur took Molly's place, clapping Harry on the shoulder and offering his own words of encouragement, as did Andromeda. By this point, Harry was far too nervous to absorb any of it, and had taken to nodding a little and trying to smile. He wasn't certain how well he'd managed this reassurance, but the older adults seemed satisfied, at least.

“Ready to go?”

Sirius's voice jarred Harry from his anxious daze, the older man's arm slipping around his waist at the same moment. He knew the answer was no, he still did not feel ready for this, but at the same time, he knew that he had no choice. Forcing a small, false smile, he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said at last, and Sirius smiled sadly down at him, as though he knew that Harry wasn't being entirely truthful. He looped his other arm around Harry in a loose embrace, and in a twirl of suffocating Side-Along Apparition, Harry found himself whirling towards the next stage of his life: the consummation.
A/N: Rite of Cakes and Ale in this chapter is from Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft by Raymond Buckland. You can see a picture of the crystal Hermione gives Harry here: http://kathiskrystals.com/images/large/tumbled-2/tusar7a_1_LRG.jpg .
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Patria Potestas: Blood Ties