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The Power Of Love	By : Marblez Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5431 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I will not make any profit from writing this story.

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The Wedding - Part Two

"Well…I guess it could be worse…" Harry muttered, trying to reassure himself as he looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror tucked away in the corner of his bedroom at Godric's Hollow.

"No," his reflection argued, shaking it's head, "No, it really couldn't be worse. I mean seriously, look at yourself! You look like a meringue, a pink meringue!"

Harry sighed deeply - the mirror was right.

What had Clive been thinking?

The robes were too tight for Harry, limiting his breathing and definitely restricting his movement. They were sort of…puffed out giving him an absolutely ginormous bottom and the numerous different layers (each one a different fabric) were a wide variety…of pink.

"Ok…oh…this is so bad…" Harry groaned, tugging at the monstrosity he currently wore. "I mean…for crying out loud I look like a Barbie doll! All I need is the long blond hair!"

"Can't you wear something else?" his reflection asked.

"Not really. I mean…Clive bought this especially for me to wear today…" Harry mumbled, turning this way an that in a futile attempt to find something good about his wedding robes, something other than wedding day jitters growing in his stomach. "…I can't go out looking like this…"

"Then don't," his reflection said calmly, "You can't get married in something that will make you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. It's not right."

"Yeah…" Harry mumbled sadly.

"It's not fair on you to go out there on the day that is supposed to be the best day of your life and feel like a laughing stock," his reflection continued, "I've seen you wearing much nicer robes, that black set you wore to the last Weasley christening would look just as nice if you made them white or cream."

"Since when does a mirror give such good council?" Harry asked after a moment collecting his thoughts. His reflection chuckled; sounding quite proud of the compliment he had just received. "So…where did I put those Christening robes?"

After searching through his wardrobe he found the robes he was looking for, a well-tailored set of robes that hugged in all the right places and used his wand to turn them a cream colour, which reminded him oddly enough of vanilla ice cream.

"See, that's much better," his reflection said happily as Harry looked over his reflection once more, finding it much more pleasing and appealing this time. "But you just need a pink fwoof thing."

"Fwoof thing?" Harry asked with a frown and a chuckle.

"You know, you need a pink fwoof thing in your breast pocket to go with the rest of the wedding plan and decorations," his reflection said, patting the empty pocket. Harry finally realised that by 'fwoof thing' his reflection meant 'a folded handkerchief' and set about finding one he could use, changing it's colour to a shad of pink that wasn't too bad. "There we are. That is the perfect outfit for you to get married in today. Not a meringue in sight."

"Thank you."

Just then a door slamming broke the peaceful silence of the house, Jamie's door to be precise if the footsteps storming along the corridor to Teddy's room were anything to go by. Not five minutes later he heard someone coming up the stairs, their softer footsteps stopping just outside his bedroom door.

"Harry?"

"You can't come in, Clive, it's bad luck," Harry called out.

"I know," Clive laughed, "I just wanted to let you know that all the guests have arrived and are seated for the ceremony."

"Oh," Harry mumbled, looking down at his robes and knowing that he needed to warn Clive that he wasn't wearing the robes that had been bought for him. "Thank you for letting me know. Um…look Clive…"

"Why aren't you two wearing your robes?" Clive's voice demanded angrily on the other side of the door. Harry couldn't hear his son's replies as it sounded like they were going downstairs. "Don't worry, Harry, I'll deal with them."

"No, Clive, I said they could…"

But Clive was gone, running down the stairs after his boys and Harry hesitated only a fraction before throwing open the door, heading down the narrow hallway as he heard them arguing loudly downstairs. He was just starting his descent down the narrow stairs when he heard the unmistakable sound of a slap, heard his son cry out in shock and pain. Horror and dread filled him as he hurried down the first few stairs even as a familiar voice called out,

"Stupefy!"

He almost landed on top of his husband-to-be when the man crashed into the wall halfway down the stairs, tumbling down to the ground to land in a dazed heap in front of his sons who were both obviously scrambling back to their feet. Harry thought he was going to be sick when he saw the red handprint on Jason's cheek and then the fury took over, fury aimed at the man he was supposed to marrying in just a few minutes. He took a deep breathed, preparing to shout at the top of his voice…

But then Draco, the owner of that familiar voice, was there, pinning Clive to the ground with a painful knee on his chest as he pressed the tip of his wand against the wizards exposed throat, shouting in his captives face,

"How dare you lay your filthy hand on my son?"

A/N I'm a little bit evil aren't I? I still haven't moved past that particular cliff-hanger but I hope this different POV pleased you. I promise that the story will move on in the next chapter. Oh and I'm sorry this has taken so long but I've just performed in a show so haven't had much free time and on top of that I have had a stinking cold. Suggestions and ideas are always welcome.
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The Power Of Love