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The Stag and The Snake	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9713 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
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Chapter 21 – For Better, For Worse
A/N: Ritual I used is an adapted version of a Saex-Wica Handfasting rite, from Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft, by Raymond Buckland.

Dawn broke cool and bright over London that day, the city blanketed in a fresh dusting of snow. Harry Potter was already awake, pacing in his bedroom. Hanging up on the door to his wardrobe was his Bonding robes, and every time he chanced a look in their direction he felt his heart swell with a mixture of excitement and fear. This was it. It was finally here. Harry had waited five years and nearly six months for this day to come, and part of him still had difficulty believing it had actually come.
Harry paused in his pacing and leaned against the frame of his window. The sun hadn't yet risen fully, and he admired the way the first rays glinted off the snow. Harry looked back to the robes again, and his breath hitched. Pure white with a high collar, the sleeves, collar, and hem embroidered with Celtic knots in silver thread.
God, Harry thought, feeling warm excitement run through him, it's finally here. Not matter how many times the thought crossed his mind, it still hadn't sunk in completely. Harry stepped forward and brushed his fingers over the sleek material, smiling wistfully as his mind recalled all the events that had led to this moment, and how after everything, he might actually get his happily ever after. Harry retracted his hand and moved back to his bed, falling back with a satisfying flump. Harry allowed a near-manic giggle escape him. In less than seven hours, he'd be married.

~*~

“Draco did you sleep at all last night?” His mother's tone wavered between amusement and annoyance.
“I couldn't sleep,” Draco didn't bother to try for his usual dignified tone he usually used with his parents, “I was too excited.” He picked up a chocolate croissant and poured himself a coffee, while his father chuckled, chuckled, from behind his copy of the morning Prophet. Draco couldn't remember the last time that had happened. He set down the paper and pushed a tiny vial across the table, filled with a thick, syrupy green liquid.
“Take it before the ceremony starts, it will keep you from nodding off.” Draco laughed a little, and pocketed the vial.
“Thank you, father.”

~*~

“Harry, stop fidgeting!”
“I'm not fidgeting!”
“Yes you are! Sit still, I know what I'm doing.” Harry snorted at his godfather's reassurances. Like he believed that.
“The last time I trusted you with my hair you tried to curse it into staying flat. I'd rather not have bald patches today. Why isn't Remus helping me with this, anyway?”
“Remus had to go on ahead to help Narcissa oversee the setup. I promise I won't try and curse your hair this time.” Harry snorted, but settled back in the chair, praying that Sirius's patience would hold out this time around.

~*~

Draco shifted from one foot to the other, grateful for England's temperate climate. The Bonding site was outdoors, and while tradition dictated that it should be done in a naturalistic setting, they had decided early on to keep away from wooded areas. Instead, they had chosen a grassy field, away from prying muggle eyes. Its green grass was just barely visible under the snow, the nearby muggle village was just barely visible to the naked eye. Draco shivered and watched impatiently as his parents and Remus circled the area around the great, white tent, casting warming charms until the air was as pleasantly warm as a fine spring day.
Draco looked down at his watch. In fifteen minutes the guests would start to arrive, then after that...He took a deep breath to try and settle his jangling nerves, but it didn't help as much as he'd hoped. “Draco,” a sudden voice said, and he turned to see Remus and his mother watching him with similar smiles of amusement. “If you don't breathe, you're going to faint.” Draco smile apologetically in answer to Remus's words, but forced a small nod.

~*~

Harry was practically bouncing with excitement as he watched the clock. Just ten more minutes and then they could get going. His fingers smoothed over his hair, still amazed that Sirius had managed to avoid using a curse—a magical curse, anyway. Harry could not recall hearing the phrase I hate your fucking hair reiterated so many times in his life. It rested reasonably flat, or as flat as it ever would. He folded his arms behind his back and circled the main living area of the flat, then checked the clock again. Damn, eight more minutes.
“You're so calm Harry,” Sirius said teasingly as he stepped out from his and Remus's bedroom, in dress robes of blue and silver, “I would think you weren't excited at all.”
“Ha, very funny.” Harry's mouth quirked into a small half smile. “You'd be bouncing off the walls too if you had to wait five and a half years to Bond with Remus.” Sirius chuckled at Harry's comment, but didn't comment. Harry took the opportunity to ask a question that had been sitting at the back of his mind for the last few weeks. “Lucius said that you and Remus had a Bonding ceremony in the Old Ways. Is that true, or was he just trying to make me agree to do it?”
“It's true,” Sirius was smiling at him, though there was a faraway look in his eyes. “It was Remus's idea. My family was steeped in their Pureblood mania, the dark arts, maddening Slytherin pride...everything I stood against. I was more or less disowned by them when I left home and moved in with your father and your grandparents. After Remus and I got together and I proposed...” Sirius trailed off and Harry bit back a laugh as he remembered Sirius's drunken tale of his proposal to Remus some months before.
“Well, Remus had always put a lot of stock in family, and of course my parents were horrified that I was Bonding to not just a half-blood, but a werewolf.” Sirius rolled his eyes at the memory of the prejudice. “He thought having a Bonding Ceremony in the Old Ways might help them be more accepting of him, and needless to say it failed abysmally. They refused to even come. My delightful mother sent back the charred remains of their invitation.” Sirius's mouth quirked into a small smile, as he stepped over to a low cabinet and opened it, pulling out a framed picture which he handed to Harry. “It was still one of the happiest days of my life, though.”
Harry looked down at the photograph. There was Remus and Sirius, some twenty years younger, grinning broadly in matching robes of white and silver waving excitedly at the camera. On either side of them Harry could see his father, a very pregnant Lily Potter, and Peter Pettigrew, the traitor. His stomach lurched at the memory of him, but he forced himself to brush it aside. He recognized some of the other faces in the picture, but his eyes were trained more on his birth and adoptive parents. He smiled a little, and handed the photograph back to Sirius, who tucked it away again. “How come you keep it out of sight?”
“It's not out of shame or anything,” Sirius said with a half-shrug. “We've been Bonded for nearly twenty-four years, we don't feel the need to broadcast it. We have other photographs of our life and family that we would rather showcase.” Harry felt a faint flush of embarrassment creep up his neck at those words—a good portion of the 'family' photographs that adorned the walls and mantle of the fireplace were of him from age six onward. “But enough about us, I believe it's time for you to take the plunge.” Grinning from ear to ear, Harry all but ran for the door.

~*~

“It's time, Draco,” Draco turned to see his father motioning towards the tent. He nodded once, and took another steadying breath. This is it, Draco thought, his excitement practically coming off him in waves. Lucius turned and led him inside the tent, the guest chairs arranged in a semicircle around a space of grass. In the centre of the semicircle was a long table adorned with flowers, a small clay pot of earth, surrounded with feathers, seashells, as well as a smoking marble dish of sandalwood incense. In the centre on a soft cushion of woven hay sat two identical silver bands, differentiating runic symbols on either one. On either side of the rings were several more items for the rite, including a sword, a priapic wand, and two athames.
Draco followed his father past the semicircle and off to the side, where he was to wait. Draco had studied the Old Ways since he was a child, and was fairly well-versed in what was expected, though to perform the rite had thrown him into a jumble of excitement and nerves. He knew that by now Harry was here, and he'd get to see him soon. He felt as though it had been years since they'd seen each other, and his longing to see Harry again was almost painful.
From Draco's standpoint he could see the guests settle into their seats, as the priest and priestess swept up the centre aisle and stepped into the circle. The murmurs of the assembled guests went still at their appearance. The pair moved around the edges of the circle, murmuring as they approached the north, south, east, and west corners. When they had finished, they stepped toward each other behind the altar, and pecked a kiss of greeting. Lucius, Sirius, Narcissa, and Remus stepped forward, entering the circle widdershins and bowing to the priestess and priest in turn.
“There are those in our midst who seek to be Bonded,” Lucius said in a clear, carrying voice voice.
“Let them be named and brought forward.” The priestess's voice carried as clearly as his father's had, though it was much more high and girlish that Draco had expected.
“Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter,” Draco stepped out along the aisle in between the edge of the circle and the first row of guests, just as Harry stepped out opposite him. Draco felt his feet falter and his breath catch as he took Harry in. Harry's reaction was similar, and Draco forced himself to move at an even pace, when all he wanted to do was run full-tilt at him. Distantly, he could hear the soft tittering of the assembled guests, and the loud foghorn honk of Rubeus Hagrid, already dissolved into an emotional mess. They stepped into the circle, Lucius and Narcissa stepping to the left, and Sirius and Remus to the right, while he and Harry walked forward, standing across the altar from the priest and priestess.
“Are you Draco Malfoy?” The priestess across from him spoke in the same clear, carrying voice.
“I am.”
“What is your desire?”
“To be made one with Harry Potter, in the eyes of the Gods and those assembled.” The words tumbled off his tongue clearly and easily, and he could see his parents smiling approvingly out of the corner of his eye. The priest focused on Harry.
“Are you Harry Potter?”
“I am.”
“And what is your desire?”
“To be made one with Draco Malfoy, in the eyes of the Gods and those assembled.” His words trembled a little as he spoke them, but his conviction was clear.
The priestess took up the sword and raised it high, while the priest picked up the priapic wand and handed it to Draco. He turned, and both he and Harry gripped it with both hands. They shared a small smile as their eyes met: we can do this. Some of the nervousness seemed to vanish from Harry's face. “Lord and Lady,” cried out the priestess, “here before you stand two of your folk. Witness, now, that which they have to declare.” The priestess set down the sword, lifted her athame, and pressed the point against Draco's chest. He took a slow breath and began to speak.
“I, Draco Malfoy, do come here of my own free will, to seek the partnership of Harry Potter. I come with all love, honour, and sincerity, wishing only to become one with he whom I love. Always will I strive for Harry Potter's happiness and welfare. His life will I defend before my own. May the athame be plunged into my heart should I not be sincere in all that I desire. All this I swear in the names of the Gods. May they give me strength to keep my vows. So mote it be.” Harry smiled broadly at Draco as he spoke, his eyes a little glassier than usual as he listened. The priest picked up the other athame, and he pressed the tip to Harry's chest.
“I, Harry Potter, do come here of my own free will, to seek the partnership of Draco Malfoy. I come with all love, honour, and sincerity, wishing only to become one with he whom I love. Always will I strive for Draco Malfoy's happiness and welfare. His life will I defend before my own. May the athame be plunged into my heart should I not be sincere in all that I desire. All this I swear in the names of the Gods. May they give me strength to keep my vows. So mote it be.” The athame was lowered, and Draco smiled encouragingly at Harry. His voice did not waver or start, as though he too had no second thoughts about being here.
The priest and priestess passed the rings through the burning incense, and Draco took Harry's with his right hand, his left still gripping the priapic wand, and Harry mirrored his movements. The priest regarded them both with a calm calculating stare, “As the grass of the fields and the trees of the woods bend together under the pressures of the storm, so too must you both bend when the wind blows strong. But know that as quickly as the storm comes, so equally quickly may it leave. Yet will you both stand, strong in each other's strength. As you give love; so will you receive love. As you give strength; so will you receive strength. Together you are one; apart you are nothing.”
“Know that no two people can be exactly alike,” the priestess spoke with the same careful calculation in her eyes that the priest had held them with moments before. “No more can any two people fit together, perfect in every way. There will be times when it will seem hard to give and to love. But see then your reflection as in a woodland pool: when the image you see looks sad and angered, then it is the time for you to smile and to love, for it is not fire that puts out the fire. In return will the image in the pool smile and love. So change your anger for love and tears for joy. It is no weakness to admit a wrong; more is it a strength and a sign of learning.”
“Ever love, help, and respect each other,” the priest said, “and then know truly that you are one in the eyes of the Gods.”
Around them, the joyful cries of their friends and family filled the air, “so mote it be!”
The priest took the wand from them, and placed it back in its place on the altar. Draco took Harry's hand, and slid the ring in place. Harry copied him, his expression as he slid the ring onto Draco's finger almost glowing with unrivalled joy. Draco looked up at the same moment that Harry did, and their eyes locked. Harry reached out and cradled the back of Draco's neck, while he wrapped his arms securely around Harry's waist. They kissed, the bonding magic swirling about them, warming Draco to his core, as though they'd been enclosed in a warm blanket. He could distantly hear the cheers from the guests, but his focus was trained on the love of his life—Harry. When they broke the kiss, Draco could see the pinpricks of joyous tears in his Bonded's eyes. They turned and took their turns kissing both the priest and priestess; a light peck on the lips each. They stepped back, murmuring prayers of praise as they closed the circle. Draco and Harry turned, smiling broadly to the assembled crowd.

~*~

Harry could not recall being happier in his life. Grinning from ear to ear, hand in hand with Draco—his Bonded, at last. Before them was a veritable sea of faces, and none of them were anywhere near disapproval, and even Ron's glowing face amid the sea of ginger carried no hint of prejudice for Harry's Bonded. The applause washed over him like a pleasantly warm gust of air, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Remus passing a handkerchief to Sirius.
Lucius raised his wand high and the guests stood. In one sweeping motion circular tables appeared throughout the tent, and following the priest and priestess packing away the ritual tools, the altar itself was transformed to a long high table. Draco took his hand and led him up to the table, a rush of familiarity washing over Harry at the sight of it. He and Draco sat in the middle, with their respective parents on either side.
After easing into the seat, Harry was only vaguely aware of Lucius standing and making a speech. He was so focused on Draco that he didn't catch much of it. He assumed it had something to do with food, due to the fact that seconds later the serving plates were piled high with rich, gourmet dishes. Harry exchanged a smile with Draco, and oblivious to the disapproving looks of the older adults on either side of them, they loaded their plates and proceeded to feed each other. They laughed and smiled, holding out tidbits for the other to taste, punctuating their meal with drawn out kisses.
A towering wedding cake followed the main course, a veritable mountain of whipped cream and fresh strawberries on topping vanilla sponge cake, as well as sweet dessert wine. Harry and Draco continued to feed each other, on occasion deliberately missing their Bonded's mouth for an excuse to lean in and lick away the cream, ending it in a kiss. Harry felt as though part of him should be embarrassed, acting this way in front of his parents as well as his in-laws, but he couldn't find it in him to care. He was Draco's, and Draco was his. Finally. He was too happy to feel ashamed about the displays of affection they shared.
When everyone had eaten their fill, Draco stood and Harry followed his lead. Lucius lifted his wand at the same moment, and the guests cleared away from the tables as they were pushed against the sides of the tent, and the centre of the area was left open for dancing. He and Draco descended to the grassy floor, and a solo piano permeated the silence with a slow, sweet melody. Harry let Draco lead, smiling faintly as he was twirled around the dance floor, the experience reminding him of their first dance together so many years earlier, though for once without the pain of what had followed. “I'm still kind of in a dreamspace, y'know?” he murmured. Other couples had begun to join them in dance as he spoke.
“Yeah, it still doesn't feel real.”
“I keep waiting for something to happen, like...every time I got close to happiness it was snatched away by...someone.” Harry couldn't bring himself to speak the name of his tormentor, not today of all days. The look in Draco's eyes told him that he knew exactly what Harry was alluding to. “But..so far everything been perfect.”
“You're not alone, and you will never be alone again. I won't let anything happen to you.” Draco smiled warmly and pulled him in closer as they moved, while Harry felt an embarrassed flush creep up his neck at his Bonded's words.
“Why does that sentiment make me feel like a damsel in distress?” Draco chuckled a little, and paused his movements to lean in and kiss him. Harry was certain he felt his heart skip a beat.
“I'm fairly certain that no one will mistake you for a damsel in any capacity.” Draco smirked, and squeezed Harry's hand in reassurance. Harry still had some ways to go before he was entirely himself again, but letting himself be taken care of so completely was still something his ego had a hard time with. Not wanting to mar the day with dark thoughts and words, he leaned in to kiss Draco as the song quivered to an end around them.
They stepped off the floor hand in hand, and were immediately surrounded by people congratulating them on their Bonding. Harry found the whole thing strangely overwhelming as he smiled and shook hands and shared hugs with friends, family, and extensions of Draco's family that he had yet to meet. He was regarded by the Malfoys with disdain, while the Black side was comprised mostly of people Sirius's mother had unceremoniously disowned, and as a result were far more open and welcoming.
The encounters that had worried Harry the most was the Weasleys—Ron in particular, but Harry quickly discovered that his concern was unfounded, as Ron had reverted back to how he'd interacted with Draco at the Lughnasadh Ball. While it was far from friendly in the general sense of the term, at least they weren't openly hostile, which was at least a step in the right direction.
“Can we sit?” Harry murmured fifteen minutes later when the crowd of well-wishers had begun to thin. Harry's stress of the lead-up to the Bonding ceremony had finally crashed, and it left him feeling exhausted.
“Gods, I hope so. Come on,” Draco tugged his hand and they slipped off to a side table, and all but fell into two available seats. Draco clicked his fingers and a server apparated over to them. He plucked two glasses of wine off their tray, nodded his thanks before the server apparated away again. Draco pressed one of the glasses into Harry's hand. Harry sipped small measure of the drink, and at once leaned his head back against the chair with a small groan; it was like he'd swallowed an apple orchard. Next to him he heard his Bonded chuckle, “I guess you like it?” He sat up and refocused his attention on Draco, a small smile playing across his lips.
“What was your first clue?” He took another sip of the drink, letting the wine play across his tongue for a moment longer before swallowing. Draco took his own sip, but his enjoyment of it was much more subdued, which disappointed Harry a little. “So, what happens now?” Harry had turned in his seat, watching the guests while Draco draped an arm over his shoulders. Harry could see Ron and Hermione dancing across the grassy floor, and Sirius and the Weasley twins taking part in some sort of drinking game, with Remus close by, his face buried in his hands. Harry snickered a little at the sight, and looked back to his Bonded. The word still sounded strange to him, but he loved the way it made him feel warm all over. The realization had hit him for the umpteenth time that he was Bonded. Married. Harry felt like nothing in that moment could have made him happier.
“I'm not sure, my parents weren't clear on the etiquette following the formalities of the rite and dinner. Our international portkey won't activate for another couple of hours, so what do you want to do?”
It was a strange question. In his youth and teenage years, he had grown used to being told what to do, and he was expected to obey, full stop. During his captivity he was abused for five harrowing years, his tormentor telling him what he wanted, and using every dirty trick to try and get it. Now, here he was, doing what he wanted. At one time, the idea of being Bonded to Draco Malfoy filled him with a dizzying panic, but now he felt like he was the luckiest man alive.
“Mostly?” Harry finally said in answer to Draco's question, his mouth splitting into a grin, “I want to kiss you.” Draco grinned.
“Finally, something I want do.”

A/N: If anyone is interested, these are the runes inscribed on their rings. Draco's: http://s33.postimg.org/s5y0vixrj/Draco_Runes.png Harry's: http://s33.postimg.org/y54biymwf/Harry_Runes.png
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The Stag and The Snake