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“Why, Potter!” Parkinson crowed. “I didn’t know you have such strong feelings for me!”
“Don’t be cute, darling,” Nott replied in the same dramatic tone. “He’s obviously here for me. Aren’t you?” He winked and blew a kiss, receiving a wack from Zabini beside him.
Those were the only words uttered in the deathly silent venue after Harry burst through the gates shouting, voice cracking, “I love you!”
All the guests looked at him like he was another species, and frankly, Harry wanted to turn himself into a flobberworm and lay himself up for stepping on. At least Parkinson (what the fuck?) and Nott looked like they were having the time of their lives.
The person Harry’s really here for stood beside Parkinson, looking very close to murdering someone. He turned to the still cackling bride (really - what the fuck?)
“I’ll take care of him,” Draco said to her. Somehow that phrase didn’t sound as sexy as Harry has fantasized about many times before. Draco glared at Harry, then stalked out of the room.
Ginny was almost vibrating from bearly controlled glee. All of the guests were looking at him in various degrees of shock and Schadenfreude ( Slytherins ). Harry caught Ron and Hermione’s eyes as he followed Draco, red-faced and weak. They both shook their heads at him in the why-is-my-kid-like-this kind of way. “Why the fuck didn't you tell me?” Harry hissed as he passed them.
“Why didn’t you answer your damn phone?” Hermione hissed back.
Shit, maybe Harry really should have answered his damn phone.
Draco threw up a Muffliato when the door shut behind Harry, and Harry braced himself for what was coming. Even after three years, Harry could still recognize the look on Draco’s face right before he was about to say exactly what he thought of Harry. Right on schedule, the shouting came right as Harry braced himself.
“You ridiculous, fucking, dung beetle level shithead!” Draco raged. “You know how much time I spend on this fucking wedding? How many lost hours of sleep? I yelled at five vendors in the last three hours alone and believe me when I say I can yell at you for another three! I have dark circles, Potter, (Draco sounded extra scandalized when he said that). Dark circles! Two of my best friends are getting married and of course you, the great Harry Potter think he can just burst in and ruin it!”
Panting, Draco darted his eyes to the door that led to the venue and back to Harry. His face paled as the situation seemed to settle into Draco’s mind. “Why? Wh-” he said, and broke off softly. Draco swallowed. “Which...which one of them was it meant for?”
Harry wanted to apologize for ruining Parkinson’s wedding, that was rude, even if Harry would argue that he did it for something important; for texting Draco about effervescent snails; for being so stupid and thinking Draco wasn’t worth fighting for three years ago; Harry wanted to say a lot of things, but all that came out of his mouth was:
“Oh, god, you’re not getting married,” Harry choked. “You’re not. God, oh my fucking god, I didn’t lose you, god, Draco….”
“You thought it was my wedding?” Draco looked like he didn’t know if he should be shocked or angry or pitying because Harry was another level of thick. “If you think,” Draco continued. “That I would have my wedding at a hotel - you obviously don’t know me well at all.”
“I didn’t think you would,” Harry said. “You said...I didn’t know you wanted one. But then, I also wouldn’t have thought you would get married to Nott instead of m - I wasn’t really thinking straight since you came back.”
“I can see that,” Draco said dryly.
Harry rubbed his eyes. “You don’t need to tell me I’m stupid. I crashed a wedding. Who does that?”
Hands gripped Harry’s, pulling them down. Draco’s eyes were so pale, his face, his eyebrows and his hair. It would have never worked on anyone else, or maybe it just worked for Harry. This was the first time since Draco came back that Harry really let himself looked at Draco - and it filled him up. Harry hadn’t realized there were still empty spaces inside of him until now.
“Smart people do stupid things all the time,” Draco brought Harry’s hands close, slid his fingers up to rest at Harry’s elbows. Harry’s hands unconsciously went to Draco’s waist. The jut of Draco’s hipbones under his fingers felt mesmerizing, and Harry’s thumb caressed it. Draco leaned in to murmur, sadly, “I know someone who left even though he was in love. And I know the other person didn’t stop him from leaving.”
Harry closed his eyes. “I thought you wanted to leave.”
“I thought you wanted me to go,” Draco said.
Harry shook his head, and he kept shaking it until Draco tilted his head up and looked at him like they were the ones standing at the altar.
“I thought the eleventh hour had passed,” Harry whispered. “Am I too late?”
Draco smiled. “I’m about to kiss you, and you’re asking me that?”
“You kissed me last time, too.”
A paused. “I had expected to be stopped.”
“We are so -” Harry tilted his head further up.
“Not too late. Three years still isn’t too late,” Draco said, and his lips were on Harry’s, For a brief heartbeat, Harry thought he would crumble to the floor because it seemed like every ounce of his strength went into the kiss. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled their bodies flush against each other. Draco let out a whimper, mouth falling open; his hands trembled as he cupped Harry's face.
Harry pressed in, shaking too. He kissed Draco’s bottom lip several times like he always loved to. Like he used to. Harry wondered if Draco remembered.
“Yes,” Draco whispered, but Harry was positive he didn’t talk, even if he wanted to. Kissing Draco after three years required all of his beings.
They pulled apart far too soon. Hearts thumping far too fast for such an interlude. But it was a kiss that had been thought about for three years. Harry laughed, pressed his lips to Draco’s again. Softly this time.
This was more manageable for now. Harry felt like every bone in his body had just bubbled away.
Effervescent, Harry thought faintly, in the very back of his mind where it wasn’t occupied by Draco.
“I’m still going to hex you for what you did,” Draco murmured against Harry’s lips.
“Okay,” Harry said.
Draco pressed kisses to the corner of Harry’s mouth, unable to stop, but a burst of laughter that came from the other side of the wall reminded them very suddenly that there was a wedding going on.
“Oh, fuck,” Draco groaned, letting his forehead fall to Harry’s shoulder. “Pansy is going to kill me. I stole the bride’s thunder on her wedding day. I need to go back.”
“No one’s going to be looking at the bride if you’re up there anyway,” Harry said, rather dazedly.
Draco somehow managed to look flattered and irritated at the same time. But it was true. Draco was flushed and bright-eyed, and he still had the habit of using frown as a medium for looking stern. It only made him look petulant instead. Harry missed the way his own mouth always melted into a smile at the sight.
“Let’s go back in,” Draco said.
“I'm not a guest. I never RSVP-ed the invitation,” Harry said, then felt like an idiot because he did just crashed that very unRSVP-ed wedding.
Draco’s frowning in his way again, then rolled his eyes and heaved the kind of big sigh that made his shoulders rose and dropped. “I supposed I can let you have my seat. But you shall have to eat the extra chicken course the vendors ordered. If you try to sneak some of my very expensive salmon, I may die from anguish. ”
Merlin, Harry missed this man. “Where’re you going to sit then?”
Draco grinned, looked at Harry up and down. “I guess we’ll have to be creative.”
In the end, Draco discovered Harry’s lap to be an excellent seat, and Harry did get to try some salmon.
No fish-induced death happened.