Patria Potestas: Blood Ties | By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Sirius Views: 17596 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 3 |
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time. |
Chapter Seven – Changing Seasons
A/N: Kids' ages are an approximation pulled from the wiki and lexicon.
S/O to my braintwin KuriQuinn, who is a dialogue goddess and gave me a hand with this chapter. If you're into (mostly) T-rated Naruto fanfiction, def check her out cuz she's brilliant.
8th October, 2004
Harry paced in his sitting room, tugging absentmindedly on the sleeves of his new dress robes, while he chewed on what was left of his fingernails.
Today was it.
The final major event preceding his marriage.
Harry raked his fingers through his hair; no matter how many times it came to mind, the fact that he had to marry his godfather was no easier to process than the first five hundred times he had thought it over and tried to envision it.
He checked the time by the analog clock on the wall—a muggle clock, Harry had never had the patience for the wizarding kind—and found that Hermione was due any minute.
“I don't know if I can do this...” Harry muttered to himself as he raked his fingers through his hair again, just as his Floo flared to life and Hermione tumbled out.
This time she was wearing a different dress than the one she'd worn at the first two meetings. It was deep green, and made of some sort of material that seemed to shimmer when the light caught it. Harry was certain that Ron was going to appreciate the dress's plunging neckline much more than he did, but he could not deny that Hermione looked amazing.
“Wow,” he said as she straightened up and dusted herself off, and she flushed an attractive red.
“Is that boyspeak for I look okay?” she asked, and Harry snorted.
“Something like that. You look great, seriously,” he replied with a grin, and she smiled her thanks. Without a word, she stepped over to his mirror to fix her hair, then turned back to look him over with a critical eye.
“We're going to look like a walking Slytherin insignia when we get there, you realize,” she said as she nodded to Harry's robes. They were black like the other ones he'd bought over the course of the courtship, but cut differently. They were fitted, but with a lower cut collar, and the sleek lining felt almost sinfully comfortable against his skin.
The fact that he was aware of how good he looked in them filled Harry with a strange sense of apprehension. Like with the first meetings he'd had with Sirius, he didn't want to give the older man the impression that he was happy about this arrangement. At the same time however, Harry no longer wanted to make it look like he was facing the bowels of Hell when it came to their impending nuptials.
“Yeah, well, at least we look good,” Harry replied, and she grinned.
“Small comfort.”
~*~
Harry and Hermione Apparated to just outside the gates of the Burrow, and even at a distance Harry could hear the noise from inside. Harry felt his stomach twist nervously—this was the first time he'd be seeing everyone in over two months, and though he'd known through Hermione that they were all aware of the situation, it was still a little daunting to be the centre of attention (again).
“C'mon,” Hermione said as she gave his hand a gentle tug, “everyone's waiting.”
Harry took a slow breath to steady himself, then walked stiffly past the gates and up the pathway to the door. Hermione lifted her fist to knock when Harry did not immediately do so, while she shot him a look of minor annoyance.
The door swung open instantly, and Harry found himself face to face with Molly Weasley. Her face was slightly flushed and her eyes wide as she took in the sight of Harry and Hermione standing there. Her expression brightened immediately upon seeing them.
“Harry dear,” she said, smiling warmly, “it's so good to see you.” Molly pulled him into a motherly hug that was tight enough that for a moment Harry worried that she might break his ribs.
“It's good to see you too, Mrs Weasley,” Harry replied, and her smile widened slightly.
“Please dear,” she said with a soft laugh, “how many times must I ask you to call me Molly?” Harry felt an embarrassed flush begin to creep up his neck.
“Sorry Mrs—er, I mean, Molly,” Harry amended, and with another warm smile she gave Hermione a similar welcoming hug, then ushered them both inside.
“Come in, come in, everyone's dying to see you, Harry,” Molly said, and though Harry knew that she meant well, the words did little more than heighten his nervousness as she led him farther into the house.
There were people everywhere.
Bill was leaning against the sitting room's fireplace keeping a close eye on one-year-old Dominique and Molly II, while Teddy and Victoire raced through the house, shrieking with laughter as George chased them. Angelina was sitting and chatting with Ginny, Audrey, and Fleur, little Fred II bundled in Angelina's arms, and Arthur was heatedly arguing with Percy. However, Ron and Charlie seemed to be absent.
Harry was about to remark on the absence of his best friend and the second eldest Weasley child when they tramped in through the kitchen, faces flushed and sweaty, looking distinctly out of place in Quidditch gear while everyone around them were in dress robes. It was clear that they had been out flying, and Harry felt a pull at his chest—he hadn't been flying in ages.
“Harry!” Ron cried jovially, the two syllables enough to draw everyone's attention to the pair still standing in the doorway with Molly, while Ron rushed over and clapped him hard on the shoulder, hard enough to make him wobble a little. “Good to see you, mate! It's been ages!” He turned to his girlfriend, but she lifted her hands up to stop him short.
“Don't you dare hug me, Ronald. You stink,” she said while Harry snorted. The redhead seemed to be caught between amusement and offence at her words, then dropped his arms with a helpless shrug.
“Fine then, I'll be right back.” He turned and headed for the stairs, with Charlie hot on his heels, calling out first dibs on the shower as they went.
Ron's greeting of him seemed to be a catalyst of sorts, and Harry found himself suddenly surrounded by people, all wanting to talk to him at the same time. Harry grinned feebly as he greeted them all; though they were his family in all ways but blood, he still found that he was mildly overwhelmed, and their faces almost seemed to bleed together as he hugged the women and shook hands with the men.
That was, until Teddy got his turn.
“Uncle Harry!”
“Oof!” Harry grunted as Teddy barrelled at him with the force of a rugby player, and he staggered back a few steps as the six-year-old latched himself to Harry's waist in a vice-like hug. “Hey Teddy,” he said weakly, and the violet-haired, amber-eyed youth grinned up at him.
“I haven't seen you in forever!” Teddy gushed, while still holding onto him. “Gran said it's 'cause you're getting married. Is that true? Are you really getting married? How come you're getting married? Am I going to have an auntie now, too?”
“Hello to you Teddy,” Harry replied with a snicker at the thought of Auntie Sirius, and hefted the child into his arms. He was getting so big, and Harry realized with a funny sort of jolt in his stomach that he soon wouldn't be able to lift him at all. For some strange reason, Harry found that prospect especially upsetting.
“Yeah, the party here is for Sirius and me,” Harry replied at last, and struggled a little to keep his voice steady—there was no reason to show the kid just how much of a nervous wreck he was at that particular moment. “He's gonna ask Molly and Arthur if he can marry me.”
“How come?” Teddy cocked his head to the side, and his violet locks fell into his eyes.
“Because...” Harry trailed off, at a complete loss for what to say.
“It's a family thing,” Hermione interjected quickly, “it's a bit complicated Teddy, but in a way, Harry's ancestors wanted this for him.”
“Then why does he have to ask Auntie Molly and Uncle Arthur if Uncle Harry's answers wanted it?”
“Ancestors, Teddy,” Harry corrected with a soft chuckle as he began to weave through the throng of people with Teddy propped against his hip. “It's sort of a tradition—there's special rules that we both need to follow, and this is one of them.”
“Oh, okay,” Teddy replied as Harry sat down heavily and set Teddy down. He promptly pulled himself up onto the sofa next to Harry. Harry grinned and wrapped an arm around his godson, gave him a small squeeze and ruffled his hair, then reached for a glass of wine. While he adored the kid, his presence was making him feel even more awkward about the entire courtship.
Unfortunately, Harry hadn't been paying close enough attention to Teddy's curious stare, and the boy decided to pose his next question just as Harry lifted the wine goblet to his lips.
“Are you two gonna naked mud wrestle? Uncle Ron says that's what two boys do when they get married.”
Harry inhaled the wine rather than swallowed it, and choked as he began to cough. Teddy stared, his expression caught between shock and confusion as Hermione clapped him on the back several times, her lips pressed into a thin line and her face red, though it was unclear whether she was trying to keep from laughing, or annoyed by what Ron had said to Teddy.
“Why don't you ask your Gran about it when she gets here?” Hermione asked him kindly, and Teddy shrugged a little.
“'Kay.” Without another word, Teddy slipped off the sofa and darted off, presumably to rejoin the other kids.
“Don't get me wrong,” Harry rasped as he watched him go, “I love that kid, but I'll be happy when his Questions About Everything phase is over.”
“Oh it's not his fault, Harry,” Hermione said with a giggle.
“Yeah, it's Ron's,” Harry deadpanned, and her giggle shifted to a full laugh.
“Oh it's not completely Ron's fault either,” she said, “you're just a little stressed about today.”
“A little stressed being a minor understatement,” Harry muttered, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Don't be a drama queen. The courtship hasn't been that bad, has it?”
“Well, no...”
“—then stop complaining. You're doing nothing but making yourself miserable,” Hermione said simply, and helped herself to a glass of wine as well.
Easy for you to say, Harry thought with a frown, but he was stopped from dwelling any further on what was to come when a familiar ginger plopped down on his opposite side.
“Hey mate,” Ron said with a grin, “for a bride-to-be you look positively ecstatic.”
“I won't consider you for my Maid of Honour if you insist on being a prat,” Harry muttered sarcastically before he added, “or, y'know, tell my godson that me and Sirius are gonna naked mud wrestle.” Ron snorted.
“Oh however will I cope!” he cried dramatically, “and you know I'd look positively radiant in pink taffeta.” Harry snorted and shook his head, while he watched Hermione roll her eyes in his peripheral vision.
“But seriously mate,” Ron said, dropping his voice down from teasing to neutral, “it's gonna be okay. I've visited with Sirius almost as much as Hermione has. He's doing his best to give you a happy life, so that you don't feel like you're just settling. I wouldn't worry so much.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, smiling weakly, though he didn't exactly believe it, “sure.”
~*~
An hour later, Harry and the others were shunted out of the sitting room, and the doors were closed as they were informed that Sirius needed to set up the familial gift.
Harry frowned at this. If Sirius had arrived, how come he hadn't greeted Harry first? He felt both miffed and somewhat relieved, and as though reading his mind, Hermione answered the question he never asked.
“It's sort of like the muggle superstition of seeing a bride in her dress before the wedding,” she explained softly, “he's not supposed to see you before the giving of the familial gift and the request for your hand in marriage.”
Harry felt his face grow a little warm at the word marriage. He hated how much of a blushing bride he was turning into, but he had no idea how to hide his feelings any better—he couldn't help the mortified feeling that refused to go away, no matter how far into the courtship he got.
A small hand slipped into his, and Harry looked down to see Hermione's hand gently squeeze his.
“Thank you,” Harry murmured as he returned the gesture.
“What for?”
“You know what,” Harry replied with a snort, “for getting me through this, helping me keep my head, not hexing me when we had that argument.”
“Any time,” Hermione whispered back as she gave his hand another squeeze. “You're my best friend, Harry, of course I wouldn't let you go blundering in all on your own.”
At that same moment, the sitting room doors slid open, and Sirius stood on the other side, once more looking every part the aristocrat in fine silk robes of a deep maroon. His hair was immaculate, and his eyes were focused solely on Harry.
Despite Harry's best efforts, he felt his face grow warm as Sirius extended a hand to him.
Harry dropped Hermione's hand and reached out to Sirius, while Sirius motioned for the rest of the guests to follow them in.
Inside, a huge expanse of the sitting room wall had been covered by a thick black curtain. The family assembled in a semi circle around the couple, while Molly and Arthur stepped forward. Harry saw Teddy holding onto Andromeda's hand, his thumb popped into his mouth. He had a strange look of uncertainty in his eyes, and he lurched forward as though he wanted to go to Harry, but Andromeda stopped him short and crouched to whisper in his ear. Harry offered Teddy a small, reassuring smile, then turned his attention back to Sirius and his surrogate parents.
“Surrogate Father and Mother of my Intended, Arthur and Molly Weasley,” Sirius proclaimed formally, once more rattling his words off as though from a script like he had before, “I have courted my Intended, Harry Potter, these last two months, and I come before you now to formally ask your permission for his hand. Know that my intentions are pure: no harm will come to your surrogate son; never will he hunger, feel pain, or sorrow at my hand. I will endeavour to make his life one of peace and joy, this I so swear. With this request, I offer you this humble gift.”
Sirius turned to the wall and lifted his wand. He waved it with one long sweep of his arm, and the curtain vanished. What was on the other side elicited several soft gasps of surprise and awe from the assembled crowd.
Upon the wall, painted in intricate detail, was a family tree.
Laid over a rendering similar to Yggdrasil, were soft, glittering lines of gold that wove their way over the wall, nothing the name of every Weasley back ten generations, all the way down to the present day. Harry noticed with a start that even his name was present, written in silver instead of gold at the very end of the list of Molly and Arthur's children, signifying his status as their more or less surrogate son.
“Oh Sirius,” Molly gushed as she hurried forward to examine it more closely, “it's beautiful!” Her eyes shone as she studied it, her fingers following the lines connecting every member of their family, but stopped when she reached Fred's name, a muted gold compared to the glimmering ones of his still-living siblings. Harry felt his throat grow tight, and he gave Sirius's hand a small squeeze, which he returned at once.
“We accept your suit,” Arthur said, his throat a little croaky as he forced his gaze away from the family tree and back to the couple standing before him. “You may wed our son.”
Sirius smiled his thanks, turned fully to Harry and dropped to one knee. Harry felt his face flame again as Sirius drew a small box covered in red velvet from his pocket, and opened it to reveal a simple silver ring, inset with a cut sapphire that was bracketed by two minuscule diamonds.
Sirius removed the ring, took Harry's left hand in his, and slid the ring into place. Harry felt it shrink a little to fit his finger, and Sirius stood up, pulling Harry close. Harry's breath hitched, having quite forgotten that he was expected to kiss Sirius before an audience, though all thoughts of embarrassment fled from his mind as Sirius's lips moulded to his. Sirius's large hand cradled his chin, and the other rested at the small of his back, holding him close in a lover's embrace.
Harry lifted his hands, they awkwardly gripping the front of Sirius's robes, while distantly he heard the applause of his family and friends fill the silence. It was strange, as though he was hearing it through a tunnel, and Harry paid it almost no mind.
Sirius was the first to pull back, and Harry felt very warm, but for a very different reason than he had been expecting. Something had changed in that moment, but Harry couldn't work out exactly what. The whole idea of marrying Sirius still carried much of its strangeness, but it seemed to be somewhat muted, as though the moment the ring had slid onto his finger the concept of them as a couple became more real, and his previous relationship with the man was now secondary, and beginning to fade. Harry didn't know what it meant exactly, but he followed Sirius's lead in turning to the assembled crowd, and hand-in-hand they began to accept congratulations from everyone one by one.
It was awkward.
Like them, the Weasleys seemed to be caught between the strange fact that they were godfather and godson, and the fact that they had no real choice in the matter, one way or the other. To their credit, they acted as though they were any other couple, though their eyes told Harry a very different story.
At the very back of the group stood Teddy with Andromeda, and he looked up at Sirius uncertainly. He had been as present in his life as Harry had been, and in many ways was as much godfather to him as Harry was.
“Go on,” Andromeda murmured to the little boy, and gave him a gentle nudge. He stepped forward, his eyes wide and his head cocked to the side a little as his eyes flitted from Harry, to Sirius, and back again.
“Will you still be my uncle, Uncle Harry?” Teddy asked uncertainly when he'd reached them, and Harry blinked in surprise at the question.
“'Course I will, Ted, why wouldn't I be?”
“Victoire said that you'll have real kids, so you won't have time for me anymore,” Teddy said in a rush, his eyes brimming with tears.
Harry felt his heart break for his godson, and he made a mental note to talk to Bill about this. He crouched down so that he was eye-level with Teddy, and pushed back his own discomfort at discussing his future as he regarded the little, insecure boy.
“No one could replace you, Teddy,” Harry said gently, “whether we have kids or not, you'll still be my godson, and I'll still visit you all the time, and you'll still be welcome to sleep over whenever you like. All right?”
Teddy's face broke into a watery smile, and he jumped forward to hug Harry. The force of it knocked him back a little, and he chuckled as he hugged the boy back.
“Congradjlations, Uncle Harry,” Teddy said softly, jumbling up the felicitation in such an endearing matter that Harry had to laugh.
“Thanks, Teddy,” Harry whispered, then straightened up as Teddy darted off again. He turned, and felt his face grow warm as he spied Sirius smiling warmly at him, his eyes alight with pride.
“What are you grinning about?” Harry asked with laughter in his tone, and Sirius shook his head.
“Nothing important,” he replied as he draped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pressed a light kiss to his temple, making Harry's flush even worse. “You're a good man, Harry Potter.”
Harry spent the rest of the evening glued at the hip to Sirius, and he found that he didn't mind it nearly as much as he would have even a week earlier. In fact, Harry found himself hardly even thinking about anything important, and merely enjoyed himself. Hermione and Andromeda, as their chaperones, were still always close by, which Ron didn't seem overly pleased about as he tried more than once to get Hermione to sneak off with him.
The last order of business was a serious talk with Bill about what Victoire had apparently said, and he was quick to apologize profusely to not just Harry, but to Teddy as well. Harry was relieved—he didn't want Teddy to ever think that Harry would cut him out of his life.
At the end of the night, Harry was rather surprised at how reluctant he was to leave.
“So, er, the Negotiations thing is next, right?” Harry asked as he stood with Sirius just outside of the Burrow, and their fingers intertwined together almost without thought given to the action.
“Yes, that's the next step,” Sirius replied with a nod, while his thumb brushed lightly over the back of Harry's hand. “There's usually a break of two weeks between this event and the beginning of the negotiations though.”
“Er, will I see you before then?” Harry asked, then realized how that may be interpreted, and he felt himself go red.
“Do you want to see me before then?”
“I—er...um, that is...” Harry stuttered, while with a short laugh Sirius leant in, silencing his stammering with a gentle kiss.
“Don't be embarrassed, Harry,” Sirius murmured, “if you want to, then I will happily oblige you. If you don't, then that's all right too.” Sirius kissed him one last time before he finally pulled back. “Think about it. Either way, there's no pressure.”
After offering Harry one last smile, he took a step back and Disapparated, leaving Harry alone in the garden with Hermione, Andromeda having taken a Portkey back with Teddy much earlier.
“Wow,” Hermione breathed as she stepped up to him, a look of awe in her eyes.
“Wow what?” Harry asked as he turned to cock an eyebrow at her.
“You have that man wrapped around your little finger,” she said, raising her own eyebrows as though to say that that was obvious.
“I do?” Harry blinked, and Hermione shook her head a little in disbelief at him.
“Harry, if you asked him for the moon, he'd find some way to give it to you,” she said simply. “Sirius is completely besotted with you. Don't tell me that you haven't noticed.”
“I...” Harry trailed off as Hermione's words began to sink in. Was Sirius really in love with him, or was he, like Harry, simply making the best of a bad situation? He could not deny that the few kisses they'd shared that day felt somehow more intense and enthralling that the ones preceding it, but did it really mean what Hermione was telling him, did Sirius love him?
His eyes dropped to the ring on his finger.
If Sirius really is in love with me, Harry thought, I hope I can learn to love him back.
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