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Harry stood there, the butterflies in his stomach threatening to escape through his mouth. Nervous, but excited.
There was a noise at the back and the doors opened, admitting him. Harry's almost husband.
Always needing to make an entrance.
Heads turned to take him in.
Draco strode in the room and down the aisle, resplendent in his white robes that glowed and flowed behind him. Every graceful step brought him closer, and Harry knew why people at weddings always watched the one who walked.
Harry, too, couldn't look away. Draco was ethereal and Harry was so, so lucky to be marrying him.
When he finally reached Harry, Draco cracked a smirk his way. More mischievous than malicious these past several years.
“Scared, Potter?”
Harry couldn't help but crack his own smile back.
“You wish.”
Later, after the vows and the speeches and the cake and the dancing. After the night had turned morning and only those true revelers remained, Harry held Draco in his arms dancing to a soft, slow song.
Hermione came up to them and showed them a picture of Draco walking down the aisle, but the focus was on Harry's face.
And yeah, Harry realized why there was always someone who looked at the one who waits, too. He couldn't look more lovesick if he tried.
Harry exhaled and felt all his butterflies release. Yeah. Nervous and excited for this life.