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Pre-Wedding Jitters

Summary:

Draco and Fleur had become quite close during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and so against better judgment, she asked him to be in her wedding party. He runs into Harry the morning of the wedding and Harry seems to favor him over his ex-girlfriend, which gets him wondering. Does the Prat Who Lived have feelings for him? There is only one way to find out. Too bad the war and the bloody Dark Lord get in the way.

Notes:

Hello lovely readers!
This little one-shot popped into my head when I saw a text post about Harry using magic to zip Ginny's dress instead of them having that sweet moment in the kitchen, then Draco needing help and Harry rushing to help him. It was a cute, funny little idea that turned into a serious, heartwrenching little one-shot! I hope you enjoy it!
As always, massive shout out to my SUPER AWESOME and INSANELY TALENTED beta readers, AlexClio and SandZhark! They are the lights of my life and my writing truly suffer without them.
If you like what you're reading, go ahead and smash that kudos button and leave a comment! Comments are a fic writer's form of payment. If you want me to continue writing in this verse, let me know!
Happy reading!

Work Text:

Harry shuffled down the stairs of the Burrow, rubbing the sands of sleep from his eye. It was much too early to be awake, but today was the wedding. Mrs. Weasley would skin him alive if he wasn't up to help with the preparations and Harry was loath to disappoint her. When he reached the kitchen he went straight for the kettle. It was still hot so he poured himself a steaming cup of his favorite tea, leaning against the counter as he let it steep. He was more than a little surprised to have the kitchen to himself. The house was currently packed to its breaking point with the wedding party all staying over.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Ginny entered the kitchen looking like a vision in her pale gold bridesmaid dress. George and Fred were right on her heels, along with Gabrielle Delacour and Draco Malfoy.

“Malfoy, what are you doing here?” Harry frowned sleepily at the sharp-featured blond.

He was dressed to the nines in pale gold dress robes that matched Gabrielle and Ginny's bridesmaid dresses. It accentuated his pale skin with a warm glow, making his white-blond hair look damn near angelic.

“Fleur invited me.” Malfoys silver eyes flicked over to him while he fastened his cufflinks. “We became rather close during the Triwizard Tournament and she asked me to be a Bridesman.”

“You can’t be here! You-” Harry cried in alarm, the fact that Draco Malfoy was here at the Burrow finally sinking in.

“Don’t worry, Potter. She has me under a strict gag order not to divulge anyone on the guest list. I couldn’t tell anyone you were here even if I wanted to.” He huffed, turning his attention to his other cufflink. “Not that I would regardless.”

“We warned you zat Draco would be coming.” Gabrielle chirped in an incredibly thick French accent.

Now that Harry thought about it he did remember a discussion concerning a potentially problematic guest. He had been holding a side conversation with Ron and Hermione at the time, however, so he was a bit fuzzy on the details.

“Harry, would you zip me up?” Ginny interrupted, exposing her bare back to him and pulling her long auburn hair to the side.

“Sure.” Harry glanced from Malfoy to Ginny and back before waving his hand to zip her dress with wandless magic.

“Thanks.” She gave him a withering look, clearly disappointed.

“Morning, lover boy.” George gave Harry a teasing grin as he went to pour himself some tea.

“Gorgeous day for a wedding.” Fred mirrored his twin. “Love in the air…”

Harry raised his eyebrows at them before his eyes automatically turned back to Malfoy who was struggling with his bowtie. His face was set in aggravated concentration and Harry took pity on him. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to move forward and was probably as shocked as anyone when his hands reached out to help him.

“Here, you’re doing it wrong.” Harry muttered, batting Malfoy’s hands out of the way before taking the silky fabric into his own.

He slowly worked the bowtie into the proper shape, glancing up at Malfoy when he was done. His eyes were like two pools of pale moonlight and they were regarding him with polite confusion.

“Thank you, Potter.” He smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“Don’t mention it.” Harry flushed, jumping when Ginny stormed out of the kitchen and slammed the backdoor behind her. “What’s with her?”

“No idea.” Malfoy seemed oddly amused.

“Eet must be ze pre-wedding jitters. Don’t take eet too personally, ‘Arry.” Gabrielle gave him a wide smile.

George and Fred said nothing, humming Celestina Warbeck’s ‘A Cauldron Full Of Hot, Strong Love’ with cheeky grins before following her out the back.
****

 

The wedding had been beautiful.

Molly Weasley had really outdone herself. Everything from the gold and white roses to the elegant wedding bells was exquisite and Draco had to hand it to her. Perhaps the Weasley family wasn’t quite as low class as his parents had led him to think. Even their patchwork quilt of a home was rather quaint. Draco scanned the crowd of wedding guests and his gaze landed on a lanky redhead skulking away from Elphias Doge and a rather stern-looking woman. Without pausing to think things through he took off after him, grabbing him by the wrist before he could escape into the night.

“Come now, Potter. Surely you’re not going to sit out the whole reception? Even at the Yule Ball, you danced to at least one song.” Draco smirked, enjoying the look of alarm on the ginger’s face.

“Don’t call me that!” Harry hissed. “I’m Barny Weasley right now. No one can know I’m here.”

Harry’s voice was all wrong and it threw Draco off for a moment. His normally velvet-like bass had become an irritating baritone when he drank the Polyjuice potion to turn into ‘Cousin Barny’ and Draco didn’t like it.

“No one is paying attention.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Dance with me?”

“What? Why?” Harry’s cheeks flushed a delicious pink.

“Because it’s a crime to not dance at a wedding this lovely.” Draco put on what he had hoped was an innocent expression. “Even the Weasel danced a few songs.”

In all honesty, he was curious. He had expected a lot more hostility from the Prat Who Lived when he showed up for Fleur’s wedding. The fact that he had been so easily mollified by his agreement with Fleur was surprising. Was he simply setting his hostile feelings aside for the sake of the bride? Or was there a deeper reason?

There was also the fact that he had been blatantly cold to the Weaselette when she asked him for help with her dress, yet had voluntarily helped Draco without even being asked.

The Weaselette had seemed particularly put out. She clearly hoped to engineer an intimate moment between them and Harry brushed it away like it was meaningless. Then there was the mystery of the matching pair. They had seemed to suggest Harry might possibly have feelings for him with their incessant humming and snide remarks about love being in the air. Could it really be possible? There was only one way to find out. If Harry refused to dance with him, he was most likely just being considerate. If he agreed….

“Fine.” Harry sighed, his wrist going slack in Draco’s grip as he stopped trying to pull away.

“Excellent.” Draco smiled, his heart fluttering with possibility.

He towed Harry towards the middle of the dancefloor, locking eyes with the Weaselette as he pulled Harry closer. She stopped dead in her tracks, almost causing her dance partner to crash into her. Draco delighted in the pure fury on her face. She looked like she was about to come over to break them up, but thought better of it. She turned on the spot and stalked off the dancefloor, leaving a very confused Lee Jordan in her wake.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t seem too happy.” Draco commented, putting Harry’s left hand on his waist before taking his right hand and gently leading him in a basic four-step dance.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Harry snorted, following his movements surprisingly well. “We broke up almost two months ago.”

“That would explain it.” Draco smirked, trying not to look too self-satisfied.

“Why are you here?” Harry’s tone wasn’t demanding or accusatory, but when Draco caught his gaze his eyes were filled with guarded curiosity.

The muggle whose form Harry was assuming had bland, hazel eyes and he felt this was a disservice to Harry. Draco much preferred them green.

“To support Fleur, of course.” Draco blinked. Hadn’t they gone over that this morning?

“That’s why you were invited.” Harry shook his head. “Why are you here? What made you decide to come despite everything you’ve done?”

Draco’s heart sank. Couldn’t he have just one night to not think about his life? When he stayed silent for too long Harry sighed impatiently.

“Look, I know I have a lot to answer for. I’ve been forced into some disastrously bad decisions and blinded by my upbringing, and I know that this is only the beginning- but I don’t want to talk about that tonight.”

“When do you want to talk about it, then?” Harry frowned.

Draco’s breath caught in his chest. Did Harry mean he wanted to talk in the future?

“How about the next time we see each other?” Draco suggested, hoping against all hope that their next meeting would be amicable.

“Alright. So what do you want to talk about tonight?” Harry’s expression gave nothing away.

“Anything else.” He breathed.

“How did you and Fleur get to be such close friends?”

“Now that is actually a funny story.” Draco smiled in relief. “It was just after Halloween and I was working studiously in the library. The quiet calm was disturbed by the arrival of a beautiful Veela and I decided to see if I could be of service to her. She wanted to delve into every area of magic she could, trying to see if it was possible to tip the scales in her favor with the Goblet.”

Draco launched into the carefree tale with relish. It was refreshing being able to talk about something other than the war. Harry was the perfect audience, asking questions and making comments when appropriate. He became so involved, in fact, that he didn’t even seem to notice when the next song began to play. Draco changed their steps to match the new tempo without missing a beat. When Draco was through, Harry took over the role of storyteller and began detailing how he became close with both Fleur and Bill Weasley.

From there the conversation moved on to Quidditch, then the uncomfortability of dress robes, then the merits of sparkling wine versus champagne. Draco was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Harry, and even more shocked that Harry continued to dance with him without complaint. They must have been on their fourth or fifth song by now. Yet here he was, in Draco’s arms, chatting happily away.

Something large and silver landed in the middle of the dancefloor, cutting Harry off mid joke. Draco turned to look at it curiously. It was a graceful lynx Patronus, gleaming against the night. The lynx opened its mouth and with a loud, deep, slow voice brought the entire party to a screeching halt.

“The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

An eerie hush fell over the group, spreading outwards from where the lynx had landed. Draco could feel the blood drain from his face.

It wasn’t supposed to happen tonight.

Harry ripped his hand out of Draco’s and drew his wand, pointing it at his face with a torn expression.

“Did you know about this?” He demanded as the entire canopy full of people erupted into chaos.

“No!” Draco cried. “Harry, I swear.”

Harry gave him a calculating look before nodding curtly.

“Merlin, he said they’re coming. You have to get out of here!” Draco instinctively drew Harry closer to him, although he had no clue how he was going to help.

Granger and the Weasel pushed their way through the panicked crowd, moving towards them quickly and Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

“Go! You need to escape!” Draco shoved him towards his friends.

“What about you?” Harry shouted as Granger grabbed his hand.

“Don’t worry about me! Get out of here! GO!” Draco screamed above the pandemonium.

Harry gave him one last lingering look before Granger turned on the spot and in the blink of an eye, they were gone. Panic consumed him as Death Eaters began apparating in, flinging curses left and right. He knew he should duck or run for cover but he couldn’t stop staring at the area where Harry had disappeared.

Would he ever see him again?

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