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Wooing the Reluctant	By : makochan0217 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 23188 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 12
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter book series is owned by JKR. I am not her. I make no money and I only plan to use her characters for some fun before returning them, much happier.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
Title: Wooing the Reluctant

Author: Makoto Sagara

Series: Harry Potter

Archive: the usual suspects (ffnet, affnet, Foreverfandom, my site, mediaminer, makochanupdates on LJ, thehexfiles, hpfandom, and the harrydraco community on LJ); anywhere else, ask first.

Pairing: Draco/Harry, past Harry+others, past Draco/others

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Slash, ooc, angst, language, FLUFF, EWE, SMUT

Disclaimers: I don’t own Harry Potter and his friends. They belong to a list of people, including the wonderful JKR, Warner Bros, Scholastic Publishing, Raincoat Books, and others. I’m only borrowing them for entertainment purposes.

Author’s Notes: This is the last chapter of Wooing the Reluctant. Thank you very much for all of the reviews that I have received over the course of this project. I’d also like to extend a special thanks to the wonderful Lomonaaeren for the prompt on the Draco-tops-Harry fest over on Livejournal! I would also like to thank Jamie, Sky, Raintenshi, L, and Jokes for all of their help while I was working on this. You all are awesome ladies and have all of my respect.

Chapter Twelve - Enjoy Your Time Together

If you succeed in your courtship, make sure that you both are having fun and remember to get married!

Harry stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror before him, nervously readjusting his black silk formal robes for the fiftieth time in the last hour. They were beautiful, of course, considering Draco, Pansy and Narcissa were the ones to pick them out. They were as black as pitch, with golden buttons from his throat to his waist. There, they flared out, showing his pressed, black silk trousers and lovely new boots. All Harry had to do was wear them and try not to stain them before the ceremony was over. A hand shot out and smacked his sweaty palms away from the robes’ lapel yet again.

“Harry, I love you dearly, you know that, but if you ruin those silk robes, Narcissa and I will be forced to kill you, not to mention Draco and Pansy,” Molly threatened gently. “And I’m terribly afraid that blood is practically impossible to remove from silk completely, even for house-elves.”

“Sorry, Molly,” he said, blushing furiously. “I just can’t seem to calm down for some reason. I feel like if something else happens today that I’m going to have a nervous breakdown and have to be admitted to St. Mungo’s for life.”

The plump, redheaded woman who he’d come to love and respect as his adopted mother smiled fondly at him as she cast an Anti-Wrinkling charm on his robes and attempted to tame his hair yet again. “It’s okay to be nervous on your wedding day, dear.” She took his hands and led him to a loveseat before sitting down next to him. They were in the room that Narcissa had shown them to that morning so that he could get ready before the bonding ceremony, but not before she told Harry that Draco was in his own room on the other side of the courtyard.

“When Arthur and I got married, it was during the beginning stages of the struggle with the Dark Lord. Your parents were just wee second year Gryffindors and we were barely out of Hogwarts ourselves,” she said with a smile that he couldn’t help but return. “My mother and brothers had to practically cast Full-Body Binds on me to keep me from killing my cousins and running off. Arthur told me that his brother had him in continual Cheering Charms before I came down the aisle.”

“So, what you’re trying to say is that it’s okay if I feel like I’m going to throw up before the day is over?” Harry asked anxiously.

“Yes, that’s perfectly normal, my love,” she said sweetly. “Now, here are the important questions to ask yourself: Do you love Draco?”

“Yes,” he responded fiercely.

“Good,” she said with another fond smile. “Can you agree to the terms of the marriage contract that it took the solicitors seven months to draft?”

“Yes.” Harry still couldn’t believe all the crap that he and Draco had had to endure just so that they could get bonded. Evidently, their living arrangements, financials, and plans for heirs had to be in writing that both of them could agree on, as well as their “families”, before they could get married. That had been difficult, since Draco’s solicitors had insisted that even Ginny okay the contract. Charlie had been the one to ensure his sister’s agreement. However, from what Hermione, Narcissa and Andromeda told him later, it was the shortest time that a contract had gone through the Ministry for a bonding in centuries.

“Excellent. Now, here’s the most important question of all: Do you just want this all over so that you can spend the rest of your life with the man that you love?”

“Are you sure that this ceremony is absolutely necessary?” he asked shakily. “Everyone knows that I love Draco, especially after the rows we had about how big the ceremony was going to be. Why do the reporters and half our year at Hogwarts have to attend something that’s so fiercely intimate?”

“Didn’t Draco tell you that they got rid of the public proof of the consummation of the marriage?” Molly asked, looking surprised that the young lord would forget anything that would soothe his fiancé. “I made him promise me he would do that.”

“He did, Molly,” Harry said around a sigh that threatened to make him cry. “I just… I wish it didn’t have to be some stupidly public affair, instead of a small gathering of our friends and family.”

“Harry, love, this is your day, and the rest of the world just wants to share it with you,” Molly replied as she took his hands in her own. “I’m sure there’s a little of Draco trying to show off how beautiful the two of you are together, but we should indulge his quirk for just today’s festivities. You can always have more intimate gatherings for the holidays and birthdays. It is part of the contract after all.” She flashed him a small smile. “Now, are you ready to become one of the happily married?”

“Yes,” Harry hissed tiredly. “I want this day over so that I can curl up with Draco for a long nap.”

“There’s my Harry,” Molly said, patting his cheek before leaving the room to check on how things were going outside. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Draco, do stop pacing,” Narcissa said as she attempted to straighten her son’s formal robes as he passed her. He stopped in front of her to keep the delicate fabric from ripping. “You’re worrying needlessly. Harry is across the courtyard with Molly in his room, just as tradition states. The guests are seated outside. Miss Granger and her husband are waiting on Harry’s side of the platform. And Mipsy informed me a little while ago that Pansy and Blaise have arrived from their honeymoon in Italy and are now on your side of the platform. The food is waiting for after the ceremony. The flowers and candles are perfectly placed. There is nothing to worry about.”

“There is everything to worry about,” Draco snapped. He looked down at his mother’s beautiful face and saw the way her blue eyes had narrowed and her long, elegant fingers had grasped his robe’s lapels tightly. He sighed guiltily. “I’m sorry, Mother. I just can’t seem to calm my nerves. There is the potential for anything to ruin this day. If anyone tries anything, I may be dragged off to Azkaban instead of showing my new spouse to the suite I picked out for us to live in.”

“I agree that inviting Ginevra Weasley was a bit trying,” Narcissa said after a while. She relaxed both her face and hands, and Draco knew he’d been forgiven. “However, she is a part of Harry’s adopted family, and the invitation could not be kept from her. No matter how much we wished otherwise.” Draco showed his teeth to keep from responding about what he thought regarding Ginevra Weasley. His mother, however, continued speaking as if she didn’t see his aggressive expression. “Molly and Arthur have assured me that she will be on her best behaviour, and since Charles is here, I’m sure she shall remember that she can be removed. Besides, Draco, she has been different since her extremely public firing from the Holyhead Harpies.”

That information made him smile. Since the luncheon at Harry’s house during the initial courting phase—and after Granger informed him of what happened when the Weasleys confronted their daughter—Draco’s respect for the redheaded dragon tamer grew. Whenever Charlie was home from Romania, Draco made a point of spending time with the burly man. At first, Harry had been jealous—though he’d adamantly denied being so—until Charlie had made his adopted brother attend one of the meetings between himself and Draco. When the former Saviour discovered that Draco and Charlie talked about the dragons in Romania, Harry had left them to their little talks with a lighter heart.

And his mother was right that Ginevra had been truly humbled by her being forced out of the British Quidditch League and being informed that none of the teams on the continent would be willing to take her on, no matter how well she played. It seemed that Harry’s influence reached to more places than he even knew or understood. And while Draco’s soon-to-be life partner didn’t care about it, Rita Skeeter and the rest of the European Wizarding population did—and Draco was willing to use that to his advantage when it came to silly girls.

“Excellent,” Draco nearly purred. That’s one less problem then, he thought. “Mother, please check to see if Harry is ready.”

Narcissa raised one eyebrow at him in a way that made Draco feel as if he was a whingey child who needed a nap. “Of course, my darling,” she said, patting his cheek fondly to complete the feeling.

Narcissa left him alone for a few minutes, and Draco used the time to steel himself for the upcoming ceremony. This is a basic ritual. We have the official that is related to both of us. And how convenient was it that Aunt Andromeda is registered with the Ministry as a licenced Bonder? Our witnesses are all waiting. I haven’t heard anything suspicious coming from out in the courtyard. Minister Shacklebolt managed to make it, if Mipsy is to be believed. The only thing missing is Father.

“What is the matter, my love?” Narcissa asked as she and Molly Weasley came into the room. “Are you having second thoughts?”

Draco’s head whipped up and he looked at his mother. “No, I was just thinking about Father,” he said blankly.

“Ah, yes,” Molly responded, placing a plump, warm hand on his arm. It was proof of how far their relationship had come that she made the comforting gesture and that Draco didn’t try to shake her off or cut her down with a sharp word. “While I will never forget that he helped murder my brothers, he did an excellent job of helping to raise a good young man with Narcissa. Arthur and I didn’t want you to feel that loss too keenly today, and that’s why he’s waiting with the rest of the family with the guests and I’m acting as Harry’s mother.”

“How is he, Molly?” Draco whispered, feeling warmth for the woman he’d ridiculed as a child so fiercely that he didn’t dare speak louder.

“Nervous, but excited,” Molly answered. “He’s anxious for it to all be over, but I think that’s more because there are reporters here than any real concept of what will happen later.”

Draco didn’t know what to do with that information, since he and Harry had had several fights over why this day had to be made such a huge deal out of once their mothers and Andromeda had most of the ceremony and reception planned. He looked over at his mother, who seemed on the verge of tears. “Mother?”

“I shall be fine, Draco,” she said in a cool tone. “Now, Molly, please make sure that my silly son makes it to his position while I go insure Harry’s appearance.”

“Of course, Narcissa,” Molly said, patting Narcissa’s arm softly before Draco was left alone with the Weasley matriarch. “Are you nervous?”

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” Draco said eventually. “Yes and no?”

“Perfectly normal, dear. Now, let’s get you out there and married, shall we?” Draco nodded and laced Molly Weasley’s arm through his own as they made their way to the double doors of the room.

As soon as they stepped out of the door, a string quartet began playing—hidden behind one of Narcissa’s clever Disillusionment Charms—and Draco looked across the courtyard to see Harry leading his mother out of his room. The black robes really were a better choice for him, Draco thought before he was swept away by the gentle smile that played on Harry’s full lips as the other man noticed him. A lifetime of that is what I’ve signed up for. I think I can live with that.

Everyone was staring at them, especially as Draco and Harry drew abreast of one another. Draco felt himself drawn into Harry’s bright green eyes—one of the mothers or Granger had managed to convince his fiancé that his golden-framed spectacles would detract and cast a Vision Sharpening Spell, evidently—and a stupidly wide grin take over his face. He barely noticed when Molly let go of him, but, the second his skin came into contact with Harry’s, a shiver of electricity danced upon his spine, a motion that Harry mimicked. I didn’t think that would happen, Draco thought, more determined than ever to drag his spouse off and have him. He would never have that with anyone else.

A bright golden glow caught his attention and he stared down at his and Harry’s joined hands, seeing that their mothers had already cast the spell that made it impossible for the two of them to drop hands unless they were completely bonded or the ceremony was called off. “Are you ready?” he whispered to a dazed Harry. The black-haired man nodded and allowed Draco to lead him up to the platform where the ceremony would be officiated. To one side, stood Granger and Ronald Weasley and on the other, were Pansy and Blaise. All four of them wore satisfied smiles—not wide and goofy as Draco had expected from Harry’s friends or cold and sharp as Harry had feared from Draco’s. However, the real sight was Andromeda.

Draco’s aunt was splendid in her flowing golden robes that signified her position as Bonder. Her thick, dark hair was blowing gently around her face in the light April breeze. A grin made her otherwise slightly stern features appear soft and young once more. Her dark eyes shone with love and happiness as she looked at both Draco and Harry. It was the first time that she’d shown more than reserved pleasure at the fact that Draco and Harry were to be joined.

A tug on the hem on Draco’s formal robes made him look down. He discovered Teddy standing at his grandmother’s feet, carrying the long, crimson pillow that held all of Andromeda’s tools. The little scamp had made his hair as black as Harry’s, but his eyes were a startlingly clear grey. He’d even managed to change his nose to resemble Draco’s strong patrician one. Merlin, but he had a habit of combining Harry and Draco’s features to near perfection.

Real, fierce love and affection swelled in the blond’s chest before his hand holding Harry’s was shaken, making him pay attention to what was going around him. A quick look at the man by his side let Draco know that he was not the only one affected by Teddy’s carefully sculpted face. A single tear had slid down Harry’s right cheek, and Draco lifted his free hand—the left—to capture the precious droplet.

“May I begin?” Andromeda whispered kindly. Draco nodded and saw Harry do the same. His aunt gave them a small smile before staring beyond them at the witnesses gathered. “My fellow witches and wizards, the bonding of two people very much in love is always a pleasure, but it is an honour when one is asked to preside over the ceremony of a lord. My dearest nephew and sweet Harry did not begin as friends or even as friendly acquaintances. Their courting has been fraught with misunderstandings and arguments. They have found reluctance in both families for their joining. And yet, we see here before us two wizards who have had the good fortune to live through a horrendous war and opposition from many corners so that they can commit their lives to one another.

“As Draco is a lord, there will be something a little different than what most of you are used to, but once we begin, I will ask that you not attempt to interfere with the ritual.” Andromeda paused and looked around the courtyard. Draco did the same, wondering if anyone would be as stupid as to attempt to ruin his day with Harry. No one appeared to breathe too harshly, and some tension seemed to flow out of Draco’s fingertips. “Now, is there anyone who can give a valid reason why they should not be bound for eternity to one another?”

On the word valid, Andromeda’s dark eyes bored holes into Ginevra Weasley’s flushed and sweaty face as she seemed to silently shout and thrash in her chair. Charlie sat next to her, a happy smile on his face and his arms crossed over his stout chest.

No one else moved, and a collective sigh could be heard after a few moments of silence.

“Good. Lord Draco Lucius Malfoy, I am charged with binding you to the wizard at your side for eternity. Are you willing to make this promise to him and in front of the witnesses who have come to share your joy?”

“I, Lord Draco Lucius Malfoy, of the Long and Illustrious Malfoy family, do swear to be bound to my Intended, Harry James Potter, of the Light and Virtuous Potters, Heir to the Black family,” Draco answered with a strong and clear voice.

“And do you swear, upon your magic, your blood, and your name, that you will do everything within your power to make your Intended happy, healthy, and loved until you shall be parted for the Great Beyond?”

“I do so swear,” he answered emphatically.

“Present your free hand,” Andromeda ordered, picking up a silver knife and its accompanying goblet from the pillow that Teddy still held. Draco held out his left hand, palm up, and Andromeda quickly drew the blade across the pad, catching the flowing, crimson liquid in the goblet.

“Present your wand,” she said after Pansy cast a quick healing charm on the cut. He gave his wand to his aunt, who picked up what appeared to be a canister of wood—rowan for its protection properties, Draco knew from studying the ritual—and dropped the hawthorn wand into it with a loud clack.

“Present your proof,” Andromeda said. This time, it was Blaise who stepped forward with his final gift to Harry, a ring of silver that was decorated with eagles in shade of pale blue and grey—another Malfoy heirloom. Draco took the ring from his best friend with a quick smile before placing it on the pillow for Andromeda’s approval. “It is sufficient.” Blaise removed the ring and took a step to stand behind the blond.

She aimed her wand at Draco’s heart. “Should you break your word, you will lose all you have. Are you willing to make this promise?”

“I am,” he stated calmly, allowing Andromeda to cast the binding spell on him. Then, she turned to Harry.

“Harry James Potter, I am charged with binding you to the lord at your side for eternity. Are you willing to make this promise to him and in front of the witnesses who have come to share your joy?”

Draco turned to stare at Harry and waited as the magic in the air weighed on him like a heavy mantle.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry could sense the magic surrounding him and Draco and swallowed nervously. This is what I want and he is who I want, he thought darkly. “I, Harry James Potter, of the Light and Virtuous Potters, Heir to the Black family, do swear to be bound to my Intended, Lord Draco Lucius Malfoy, of the Long and Illustrious Malfoy family.” He was surprised at how sure and strong he sounded as the words flowed from his heart.

“And do you swear, upon your magic, your blood, and your name, that you will do everything within your power to make your Intended happy, healthy, and loved until you shall be parted for the Great Beyond?” Andromeda asked.

“I do so swear,” Harry answered.

“Present your free hand,” she ordered, the silver knife in her wand hand again and the goblet in the other. With some reluctance, Harry held out his right hand—palm facing up just like Draco’s had before—and allowed the knife to slice through the skin. He bit back a hiss as his hand began to bleed, but didn’t flinch as his blood poured into the chalice, determined to forget another time his blood had been taken from him.

When their blood had mixed, a faint golden glow could be seen emitting from the cup Andromeda held. He could see the older woman’s surprise as it flashed across her face before she went back to her business face. Hermione rushed over and healed his hand before stepping back next to Ron.

“Present your wand,” Andromeda said shakily. Harry pulled out his trusty holly and phoenix feather wand, watching as Andromeda dropped it into the canister with Draco’s. She snapped the lid shut on that damnable golden light and placed it on the pillow that Teddy still held. Part of Harry’s brain was amazed at the little boy’s calm and made a note to buy him a great present for being such a gentleman throughout the ceremony.

“Present your proof,” Andromeda ordered in a stronger, calmer voice. Harry could feel Ron move to stand next to him, Harry’s gift cradled in his large hands. It had taken some extensive searching through the Potter and Black vaults before he found the perfect thing—a torque of platinum that he’d taken to the goblins in Gringotts and had enchanted to cast Shield Charms and alert Harry in case Draco was attacked—much like the protections in the promise ring Draco had given him at the dinner ages ago. He held his breath as Andromeda inspected it with a critical eye. “It is sufficient.”

His breath escaped his lungs with an audible, relieved whoosh at her announcement while Ron retrieved the torque and stepped back, but he was forced to stand up as straight as possible when Andromeda pointed her wand directly at his heart. “Should you break your word, you will lose all you have. Are you willing to make this promise?”

Harry looked over at the blond still grasping his left hand and felt a rush of love and lust so strong that he was lightheaded. “I am,” he whispered and Draco gave him a smile that could have rivalled the sun for its brightness while Andromeda cast the binding spell on him without hesitation.

“The promises have been made, the oaths taken, but there are a few more steps to go through before we can sit down to break bread.” Andromeda put her wand into her golden robe’s pocket and swirled the goblet a few times. “Lord Draco and his Intended must drink of their mixed blood and magic.”

She held the chalice out to Draco, who accepted it graciously and sipped at the red liquid as if it was a fine wine. The blond then held the cup to Harry, and he took it. Repressing a look of disgust, Harry followed Draco’s example and sipped from the goblet. He was surprised when he didn’t taste the tangy bite of copper, but something sweet and dark, like bitter chocolate almost. Pansy took the goblet from him and handed it back to Andromeda. The older witch quickly cast a Scouring Spell on the silver goblet, getting rid of the blood.

Harry relaxed visibly once that was done and waited patiently for the next part of the ritual. “You are now of the same blood,” Andromeda said sternly before turning to the guests that had been so quiet until now. “To hurt one is to hurt both. Let be so witnessed.”

“So it is, so we say. Let it be written that they are now one,” the crowd returned in a near unison.

Andromeda picked up the wooden canister and pointed her wand at it. “Let your magic be as one,” she intoned, tapping the side before it lit up with that same mysterious golden glow that Harry was already antsy seeing. He didn’t remember that being described in any of the books about the ritual that Narcissa and Hermione had forced him to read during the courting phase with Draco, but the blond didn’t seem to be adverse to its presence. Not even Ron had acted anything but great.

Once the glow had faded a bit, Andromeda opened the canister and held it out in front of Harry and Draco. “Reclaim your birth right,” she said. Quickly, Harry took back his wand, watching with some amusement as Draco retrieved his in a slower, more refined fashion. The familiar holly wand felt as comfortable as before, but Harry could feel Draco’s hawthorn wand as well. It was as if he was holding both wands in the same hand and attempting to gather his magic to cast a spell. At the same time, he could feel Draco’s presence in the back of his mind, just like the books said he would, like a cool breeze wafting through an open window.

“Exchange your gifts,” she ordered. Draco removed the beautiful ring from Zabini’s hand and slipped it to rest next to the dragon ring on Harry’s left ring finger—somehow doing so even though that was the hand he held. Harry took the torque from Ron’s sweating hands and gave his friend a wry smile that the redhead returned before Harry turned around and placed the circlet around Draco’s brow. The platinum only emphasised how light the blond’s hair and features were, making him seem ethereal, almost elfin.

Harry felt a surge of power sweep through him as the magical, golden bonds around his and Draco’s joined hands settled into his skin. It left him with a tingly feeling all over his body, as if he stood next to an area where lightning had struck. And looking over at Draco, he could see his new spouse’s face was just as awed. Harry shook their still linked hands and gave Draco a slight smile which the blond returned.

“You are now one,” Andromeda intoned.

When Draco leaned in, Harry quickly met him. Their lips barely touched before a jolt of their combined magic raced through his body and manifested as a bright, golden glow. He could hear the assembled guests talking in hushed tones, but the only thing he could concentrate on was the nearness of his new husband. “What is that?” he whispered.

“That is the strength of our bond,” Draco whispered, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. “It is very strong.”

“What happens now?” Harry was breathless. When he and Ginny had broken up, a part of him had given up the thought that he would ever have a strong, happy marriage. To think that it was with this shining, smug prat at his side was a little overwhelming, but in a good way. His entire body tingled with happiness and the sheer power of their magic.

“Aunt Andromeda will introduce us as a married couple, finally, and then we will go to the reception. Afterwards, I will show you to the suite of rooms I had redone for us to live in while we’re here at the Manor.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Harry whispered. And, surprisingly enough, he meant it with all his heart.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The reception had been beautiful, Draco admitted to himself. Mother and Molly outdid themselves this time. It was better than Pansy and Blaise’s wedding—not that I doubted for a second that it wouldn’t be.

Harry and he had danced, eaten, schmoozed, and kissed throughout the whole thing. His new husband had a hard time keeping his hands to himself during the entire time, and they couldn’t be separated for long without wanting to drag the other off for a few minutes of heavy snogging. Admittedly, Draco knew that as their magic settled down between the two of them that the need to be closer to one another would grow until they consummated their union. Harry, however, seemed so embarrassed every time they were caught kissing and touching each other, despite everyone’s apparent nonchalance at their public displays of affection.

Finally, finally, they were alone in the Manor. Narcissa had gone back to Andromeda’s house with her sister and great-nephew. All of the Weasleys—including the still Silenced Ginevra—had returned to their homes. The rest of the guests had left an hour before Harry and Draco’s families, leaving the two men standing in the grand foyer of the Manor to begin their lives together.

Draco turned to Harry with a tired smile. “I thought they’d never leave,” he teased. “Although, I’ll be completely honest and say that this day was fun, but tiring. I am completely knackered.”

“I know,” Harry replied, sounding just as tired as Draco felt. He let out a delicate little moan as Draco wrapped his arms around him. “Today has got to be the longest day of my entire life.”

“It’s not over yet, Harry,” Draco whispered, garnering him another groan—this time of distaste—from his new husband. Just thinking the world and associating it with Harry Potter in his arms made Draco feel as if he was the luckiest man on the face of the planet. He shook his head, partially to clear the soppy thought and partially at Harry’s annoyance. “Now, now, none of that, Mr Potter; I’ll have none of that. I’ve to show you to our rooms yet and then there is the wedding night.”

“We’re…we’re not going to use the rooms that you were using before?” Harry asked, spinning in Draco’s loose hold suddenly. “I thought those rooms were lovely when I saw them before.”

“Yes, but those were my—what did Granger call them—my bachelor digs, I believe. These will be our rooms, for our lives together as a married couple. And when we have children, they can have those rooms to themselves. However, they’ll go to the Malfoy heir when the time is right.”

“Oh.” If Draco didn’t know any better, he would have said that Harry sounded almost…disappointed. “So, lead the way, oh light of my life, my raîson d’etre.”

Idly, Draco wondered where Harry had learned French, since from all accounts, Harry had never left Britain, but he focused on the rest of his silly statement. “Dear Merlin, if you begin talking like that, Harry Potter, I believe our union might be one of the shorter ones in Malfoy history.”

“There’ve been shorter?” Harry asked with a cheeky smile.

“Yes, you prat,” Draco responded fondly, placing a chaste buss to Harry’s forehead before taking his hand and leading him towards the Grand Staircase. “My great-great-great-great-great-great uncle married a Muggleborn. He brought her directly to the Manor to introduce her to his parents. She was cursed into a toad and released into the wild. He was turned into a footstool. I believe that Father used that footstool in his study for many years until…we had our unfortunate houseguests that year. I have no idea if it’s still there, however. I haven’t entered it in years, not even to remodel it.”

“Your ancestors really did that?” Harry, true Gryffindor that he was, was aiming to become rather unhappy and loud. Draco wanted to avoid that at any cost, at least for the night. It was just not on that they would begin their lives as a married couple fighting.

“Well, yes,” Draco answered carefully. “His parents were harsher on their child because, as a Malfoy, he should have known better of what was expected. The girl, I later found out, married a nice Muggleborn and they produced a passel of brats to rival the Weasleys in number and noise.”

“It seems rather sad that it happened that way,” Harry said as he calmed down. “Why were his parents to dictate how they would be happy?”

“Well, he would have been disowned by the entire family and publicly ignored. Back then, one just didn’t take up with Muggles or Muggleborn. The danger was still too great of being exposed to the Muggles.”

“What about Half-bloods?” Harry asked coolly. Oh, yes, his husband’s back was up with righteous indignation and, perhaps, a tiny smidgeon of worry that he would be found wanting, even after so long in the Wizarding world.

“Depending on the family of the pureblooded parent and the reputation of the other parent, they might have been accepted,” Draco replied wearily. This is hardly a conversation that one has on one’s wedding night, but I suppose that it is my fault for not having it with Harry long before now. “You, no doubt, are universally loved by my stuffy, idealistic ancestors. I thought the tour through the portrait gallery was proof enough of that. Even Grandfather Abraxas can tell you are powerful, and the Potters have always been a respectable family, even with your mother being a Muggle-born. She was intelligent and beautiful. More importantly, she was willing to live as a witch in our world.”

Harry sniffed as if he had been slighted but he took one of Draco’s hands and squeezed it. “So, these rooms, how far away are they?” The deep tone and the underlying heat of Harry’s voice made the exhaustion that threatened to take Draco over recede quickly.

“Too bloody far,” Draco whispered, leaning down to snog the hell out of Harry. Hands made their way into his mussed hair—despite the fact that he’d not yet removed the torque Harry’d gifted him during the ceremony—and a well-muscled, fit male body melded to his own quickly. He bit into Harry’s soft lower lip and Harry opened his mouth, allowing Draco to swipe his tongue inside. There it was—his new favourite taste, Harry—making his knees weak and his control waver. “Too far,” he muttered before Apparating them to the bedroom of their suite.

He heard Harry gasp but ignored it in favour of undoing the column of tiny golden buttons that held Harry’s formal robes closed. As he reached Harry’s sternum, the dark-haired man finally reacted.

“Draco,” he moaned as his hands reached to remove the circlet from Draco’s brow, throwing it and his glasses haphazardly. Then, his strong hands began undoing the silver buttons on Draco’s own robes. The sound of ripping fabric registered in the blond’s brain, but he ignored it so that he could release the last button resting above Harry’s belt buckle. He deftly released the buckle and began the work of undoing the snaps that held Harry’s black trousers closed.

Harry shoved him away, and Draco glared at his lover, ready to fight if Harry was determined to stop the consummation. However, he took in the heaving, broad chest, flushed skin, and trembling hands—as well as the obvious erection—and knew that it was only a matter of seconds before Harry exploded in a fit of blinding passion.

He was not disappointed. Harry waved his wand at his boots, untying them with a speed that would have made Granians jealous. His formal robes hit the soft, thick carpet after tucking his wand into one of the pockets, followed quickly by the white undershirt and black trousers. And Draco could do nothing but stare at Harry in nothing but his socks and a pair of light blue silk pants—and the wet patch that graced the elastic waistband of said pants.

Harry was everything that Draco had been fantasizing of for the last eight months. Broad, muscled shoulders and chest—surprisingly hairless; pert, brown nipples that practically begged for Draco to take them between his teeth and tug; flat abs; trim waist; a tantalising trail of dark hair that started at Harry’s navel and disappeared into his boxer shorts; trim thighs that would soon be wrapped around Draco’s waist; calves that could have been sculpted from marble; and long, delicate feet that were still encased in black silk dress socks—all of these features made the blood in Draco’s body heat and his heart pound in anticipation, but it was the look of uncertainty on the face that he loved that made him undress himself slowly.

Draco knelt down and untied his boots with a deliberate slowness he’d perfected over the years. Then, he removed them and his own dress socks before finishing unfastening the tiny silver buttons of his formal robes and letting it hit the floor not far from Harry’s own, exposing his bare chest and feet to his lover. He looked up through his lashes to see green eyes burning into him with impatience. He gave Harry a sexy smirk—he knew it was sexy, dammit—and pulled his belt through the loops. He dropped the strip of Italian leather.

When his hands touched the tie-string of his trousers, he heard Harry’s breathing speed up. Draco looked up and saw that the tips of Harry’s ears and his cheeks, neck and chest had begun to flush. “Would you like to help me, husband?”

“Y-yes,” Harry croaked before lunging forward and clumsily ripping at the strings as he kissed Draco just as messily. The fabric ripped under the violent, clumsy assault and Draco practically purred under the attention.

Windy will have to repair those before they can be worn again, Draco thought idly, stepping out of the torn fabric to stand nude before his lover. Well, there was the surprised gasp from Harry when he realised that Draco hadn’t been wearing pants the entire day.

His lover did not disappoint in his admiration either. His green eyes blazed as they swept over every inch of Draco’s body. He noticed when Harry spotted the fading Dark Mark on his left arm, but he quickly moved on. They softened as they caressed Draco’s chest, obviously spotting the Sectumsempra scars. “Draco,” Harry whispered sadly.

“No,” Draco said forcefully as he moved over to wrap his arms around Harry’s waist. “You will not do that tonight. I’d forgiven you a long time ago, love. There is no room for guilt right now.”

“How can you do that?” Harry asked in a quiet, tiny voice.

“Have you forgiven me for all the cruel, petty things I said and did to you when we were children?” Draco responded.

“I almost killed you. That’s so much worse than a few petty pranks and nasty words.”

“I tried to use the Crutiatus on you, but, thanks to Uncle Sev, I lived after that meeting between us. Besides, it was you who saved me from the Fiendfyre, not even a year later. And it was you who testified at my trial, keeping Mother and I from Azkaban. It was your testimony that saved Father from the Kiss as well. There is nothing between us but what we wish for it to be, and that is love and desire and passion.” Draco took the opportunity to slip Harry’s boxers down his hips to pool at his feet. “Let’s go to bed.”

Harry nodded his dark head, allowing Draco to lead him over to the giant four-poster bed. It wore the same sky-blue velvet hangings that the bed in his previous rooms had and the elves had made sure that they’d put new white silk sheets. However, it was not the same bed. He could not allow Harry to lie in any bed that a previous lover had touched. No, this bed was brand new, imported from California and made out of the beautiful redwoods that grew there. When Harry was situated amongst the soft, fluffy pillows, Draco removed his socks, kissing the soles of his feet reverently.

“You are so beautiful,” Draco whispered as he slowly kissed his way from Harry’s feet to his calves to his thighs before stopping to nibble on the delicate hipbones. He smiled as Harry’s erection tapped his chin, almost as if demanding him to hurry up and take care of it. “So very, very beautiful you are, my Harry.”

“Dra~aco,” Harry panted. “Please.”

How he’d waited to hear Harry begging him, at his mercy, desiring him with every bone and ounce of magic in his beautiful, strong body. It was the most powerful thing he’d ever experienced, and yet it was nothing as he’d imagined when the idea of courting Harry Potter had occurred to him last July. It was beyond the scope of his imagination. And he would spend a lifetime trying to make it happen over and over and over again.

He looked up the length of his lover’s body to see Harry staring at him with eyes so blown with lust they were black. Draco flashed him a cheeky smile before licking the entire length of his cock, wringing a groan so primitive that Draco’s erection twitched against his thigh. Again, Draco ran his tongue from tip to root, watching the way Harry’s eyes fluttered and the sweat gathering on his brow. When he swirled his tongue around the head of Harry’s cock, his dark-haired lover let out a moan so wanton that Draco had to pull away before he came.

“Draco?” Harry asked. He seemed worried and his cock felt just the teensiest bit softer than it had just a second ago.

“I’m okay, Harry,” Draco whispered, moving up to kiss his lover softly, sweetly in an attempt to rein himself in. Merlin, I haven’t been this wound up since I was in fourth year at Hogwarts. He shook his head wryly. What is it about Harry that reduces me to an idiotic, bumbling teenager?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The things that Draco did with his tongue were enough to drive any man insane. I suppose that’s one of the benefits of having an experienced lover, Harry thought sardonically as Draco kissed him over and over, sweet kisses that made his brain a little fuzzy but made the urgency of their love-making slip away. As he kissed Draco back, he could feel the blond’s fine, long-fingered hands roaming over his bare chest and arms almost reverently. It’s like he’s trying to memorise every detail because we won’t be doing this again. If he promises to do the tongue thing again, I can guarantee that we will be doing this many times over.

The sensation of Draco’s teeth grazing his throat was like liquid fire. Suddenly, Harry’s brain shut down all rational thoughts and he just let himself feel. Those sharp teeth latched onto the patch of skin behind Harry’s left ear and Draco began sucking as his hand moved down to caress Harry’s stomach and hips, avoiding his cock pointedly. It was maddening and exciting and nothing like he could have imagined. “Draco, please, stop teasing,” he pleaded, digging his hands into the blond’s hair and tugging his head up to kiss him brutally.

Draco responded by forcing both of Harry’s hands above his head and using one of his own to keep them captive. The blond reached over for his wand, casting a nonverbal Summoning Spell for a rather exquisite-looking pot of oil that smelled strongly of cherries and almonds as it smacked into his hand. Harry felt as Draco’s magic, normally gently buzzing under the surface of his lover’s skin, sparked—sort of like the effect of sticking a fork in a Muggle socket.

Even after reading the many books about homosexual sex that Hermione had pressed upon him as the wedding grew closer and closer, Harry still wasn’t ready for the vulnerable feeling that threatened to overwhelm him as Draco opened his thighs with an insistent knee or the brush of slick fingers at his entrance. He knew that Draco was going to use his fingers to stretch his anal cavity in preparation for the actual penetration of the rock-hard erection the blond sported. Knowing that, however, didn’t stop the wave of anxiety that washed over him, making his arousal wane. He began to struggle in the blond’s hold, trying valiantly to escape.

“Shhhhh, Harry,” Draco whispered gently. “I’ll stop, if you want, but please don’t make me.”

Harry looked up into his husband’s eyes, seeing for the first time the hints of pain in the way his lips thinned as he stared down at him. All of a sudden, Harry’s body softened and he stilled his fighting. Draco wouldn’t hurt me, he thought with relief. I just don’t think we’ll be engaging in any bondage. “Just…let my arms free, Draco,” he replied.

As if remembering the story Harry had told him about the graveyard, Draco pulled back his hand from Harry’s bound limbs as if burned. Harry wrapped them around Draco’s neck and gave him a gentle, reassuring kiss. He felt the other man’s body relax as it settled softly, carefully against his own, erections meeting and breaking the kiss as they both gasped. “Need to be inside you,” Draco whispered raggedly, sweat dripping down his face to land on Harry’s shoulder.

“Well, get on with it,” Harry teased, running a hand through the blond’s sweat-darkened strands. “We won’t be truly bound until you fuck me into the mattress, Malfoy.”

Draco pulled back with his familiar, sexy smirk firmly in place. “Is that a challenge, Potter?”

“Always,” Harry shot back.

To say that he was unprepared for the way that Draco snatched up the abandoned oil and pulled out a hand that literally dripped with the sweet-smelling liquid would have been a vast understatement. However, by the time the blond’s coated fingers touched his entrance, Harry was ready. He took deep breaths as the first digit began its intrusion, slowly and gently. After a few long moments of the only sound being their heavy breathing and an odd squelching, a second digit joined the first. It was then that Harry noticed a stinging sensation.

It’s a little like walking through a briar patch, he thought offhandedly. All thoughts fled when Draco leaned down to kiss him possessively while curling his fingers as they pumped in and out of Harry’s body. Suddenly, white spots appeared behind Harry’s tightly shut eyes, making him scream into the kiss Draco was still giving him. What the fuck was that?

Harry could feel Draco’s lips curl up into a smug grin as his fingers abused the spot that made Harry’s brain shut down and a needy, primal sound emitted from the back of his throat. He could feel a third finger enter him, but Draco’s tongue was curling around his own at the same time and all Harry could do was try to use his legs, which had somehow ended up around Draco’s waist, to pull the blond’s body closer to his own. “NOW!” he yelled as Draco stimulated his prostate yet again.

Draco didn’t seem to need any more encouragement as he began coating his cock with oil and the blunt tip was quickly replacing his fingers. Harry barely had time to mourn the bereft feeling he had before a bigger appendage slowly opened him up. A little whimper left between his lips and Draco stopped his intrusion.

“Relax, Harry,” he said gently. “It’s going to hurt if you’re tense.”

Harry nodded his sweaty head, but it was difficult to make himself achieve the nearly boneless feeling he’d had only moments before. His lover seemed to be able to sense that and slipped his still lubed hand between their bodies and wrapped it around Harry’s flagging cock.

The sensation of the blond’s slightly calloused hand alternating quick tugs and slow strokes on his prick brought it back to a fully alert state and allowed Harry to relax enough to ease the rest of Draco’s own arousal into the dark-haired man’s body. He felt completely full for the first time in his life, as if his body couldn’t possibly take anything else.

“I hope you’re ready for me to pound you into this bloody mattress, Potter, because if I don’t move, I’m going to go insane,” Draco said between clenched teeth.

“Go then,” Harry moaned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Those were the words Draco had been waiting for since he’d taken Harry to bed. He pulled nearly all the way out of the tight, clinging heat that was his lover before slamming back home. He made sure to try and angle up a bit. He knew he’d hit his mark when Harry screamed out and his blunt nails dug into the flesh of Draco’s biceps. Determined to have more than just that one little noise, Draco did it again, eliciting a heady moan from his lover that sounded suspiciously like “Fuck yes.”

Draco set a fast pace, knowing that he couldn’t take much longer of being inside Harry before he shot his load. He stilled both his hand and his hips before he could get them on the same rhythm of stroking Harry inside and out. Every time he hit Harry’s prostate, the dark-haired man let out a string of incoherent babbling.

Draco shortened his strokes, making sure to use his other hand to finally reach down and pinch Harry’s sensitive nipples—something he’d discovered Harry loved during one of their more intense snogging sessions during their courtship. As he held the little pert nub of flesh, he hit Harry’s prostate.

“FUCK! YES! DRACO!” Harry screamed before his body tensed and his back arched, shooting milky-white semen all over the place.

An intense, vice-like grip was what Harry’s arse felt like as he orgasmed, tearing Draco’s own climax from him like a piece of cheap cloth. He slowed down his thrusts while yelling Harry’s name as he was wrung dry of what seemed like every drop of moisture in his body before he collapsed on top of Harry in a spent, sweaty heap. “Fuck,” he panted.

“Is it always like that?” Harry asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. One of his hands was back in Draco’s hair, petting him like a great big cat.

Is he serious? If it was always like that, I’d never be able to move, Draco thought without any heat. “Never,” he said honestly. “Only you, Potter.”

“I like the way that sounds,” Harry said smugly.

Draco couldn’t help but smile. “Me too. Me too.” He let out a huge yawn that nearly cracked his jaw. “After a little kip, we’ll start round two.”

“Mmmm,” Harry muttered, already falling into a deep sleep.

You were definitely worth all the effort, Potter, Draco thought soppily as he placed a sweet kiss to Harry’s sweaty temple. And if we’re lucky, there will be many more nights of little sleep.

Carefully, he slipped out of Harry’s arse—getting naught but a slight protest from Harry as he did so—and collapsed next to his sleeping lover. He wrapped his arms around the other man with a self-satisfied smile before Morpheus helped him join Harry in slumber.

~ Finite ~

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Wooing the Reluctant