Wedding Guests

„You don’t marry the person you think you can live well with—you marry the person you cannot live without. There is no more perfect description for my wonderful best friend and his stunning bride. Please, raise your glasses with me in honor of the newlyweds: Mr and Mrs Weasley!“

A clear clinking rang through the large marquee, closely followed by several noses that needed blowing, while Harry stepped back with a grin stretching from ear to ear, allowing Ron and Hermione to return to the spotlight. Merlin, he had been so incredibly nervous about giving his best man’s speech, and now it felt as though he hadn’t said anything remarkable at all—and yet had expressed everything he wanted to.

The applause in the tent refused to die down, only easing once Ron finally opened the buffet, prompting the guests to disperse to grab plates and help themselves to the spread of delicacies. Harry lingered with the newlyweds for a moment longer, both of whom pulled him into a tight embrace. Hermione was still crying, and there was nothing in the world that would have convinced Ron to loosen his arm around her.

„Thank you, mate“, the redhead said hoarsely, eyes shining. „That speech…“

He trailed off, struggling for words and fighting back tears. Harry laughed freely and clapped him on the shoulder.

„Worked on it for ages“, he assured him, unable to stop beaming.

„And the celebration-“

This time Harry waved him off in earnest; he didn’t want to hear another word about that. If not to give his best friends the best wedding of all time, what else was he supposed to spend his fortune on?

„Oh, Harry!“ Hermione sobbed, throwing herself at him, and he hugged her just as tightly once more.

„All right now“, he said gently, guiding her back into Ron’s arms. „Otherwise I’ll end up crying too, and I’ve been very successfully avoiding that since noon!“

Hermione laughed through her tears.

„Come on, love. You should eat something before we open the dance floor!“

Harry grinned after them as Ron led his newlywed wife toward the buffet. He simply couldn’t stop smiling anymore. Perhaps he had been smiling ever since they’d told him they were getting married.

Of course, Harry had been involved in the planning from the very beginning - both for Ron, who had chosen him as his best man, and for Hermione, who simply didn’t have all that many close female friends. Sure, Fleur and Ginny had done their best, but somehow Harry had always been there too, tasting cake until he could barely move and smelling flowers until his nose went numb. He had been present for the wedding dress fitting just as much as for the selection of Ron’s formal robes.

Now he was simply, utterly content that everything had gone smoothly. The food seemed to be a hit, the waitstaff circulated with drinks, and at midnight there would be a magnificent cake. He let out a blissful breath and made his way to the buffet as well, nodding to Viktor Krum, who looked as though he might still be regretting Hermione’s choice today, and chatting briefly with Charlie about his growing collection of dragons. He waved to Minerva McGonagall, who was deep in conversation with Kingsley.

In the end, he took his plate to a quiet standing table where he could catch his breath for a moment. Merlin, the food was truly excellent! He would have to remember this caterer, should he ever organize another wedding. The thought made him smile as he pushed the empty plate aside. Instead, he leaned his forearms on the table and took in all the people who had come.

Naturally, all the surviving Weasleys were there - even Auntie Muriel - and Fleur’s parents had come as well, currently engaged in rapid French conversation with Hermione’s parents.

Neville and Luna were standing by the buffet, apparently chatting with everyone who passed by, Luna - as expected - doing most of the talking while Neville was primarily occupied with gazing at her as though she hung the moon.

Harry knew how much it meant to Hermione that Minerva and Professor Flitwick had come. Hagrid, of course, couldn’t be missing, and Kingsley simply belonged among this crowd. There were, once again, quite a few people Harry didn’t even know - sometimes, in the wizarding world, you had to invite people you didn’t actually have much to do with, Ron had explained to him. They were related through some obscure branch of the family or were old family friends. Harry didn’t mind. He didn’t have to talk to them, after all. Besides… his attention was already fixed elsewhere.

It didn’t take long for him to find those dark eyes. Severus Snape was standing just as far to the side as Harry himself, on the opposite end of the large space, and met his gaze immediately.

Harry knew he was beaming again, but what was he supposed to do about it? That Severus had come was his own personal highlight of the wedding. And Merlin… had it already been this warm in here? He loosened his scarf slightly, drawing in a slow breath.

Easy now. The evening was long.

The gesture didn’t escape the other man, and despite the distance between them, Harry caught the faintest hint of a smirk. So he was amusing him again. Harry couldn’t help but smile back and lifted his glass in Severus’ direction, tilting his head slightly. Severus returned the toast from across the hall—a hall that might just as well have been completely empty.

His task for today was done. His task for a very long time. In a few hours, Ron and Hermione would be leaving for their honeymoon and finally, officially begin their life together—a life that could certainly benefit from a little distance from their chaotic best friend.

So he felt absolutely no guilt about watching with more than average attentiveness as Severus lifted his glass to his narrow lips and took a far too slow sip. He was doing it on purpose; Harry was sure of it.

Being sensual from half a mile away—only Severus Snape could manage that. And making that half mile feel as though it didn’t exist at all was one of his specialties as well. One day, he was going to drive Harry completely mad, that much was certain. And the way his index finger now traced the line of his own jaw before settling beneath his chin made Harry almost feel the touch on his own face. The finger slipped away again, his hand remaining under his chin, before gliding over those narrow lips.

Damn it all—he abandoned his post, even though he could have sworn he heard Severus laugh all the way over here. Which was, of course, nonsense. Severus never laughed out loud. But all the more maliciously for it.

Harry ignored the gaze burning into him, wove his way between waiters and guests with renewed purpose until he finally reached the other side. He stepped straight up to the taller man, grabbed him by the lapel and pulled him in for a thorough kiss, which Severus was kind enough to return.

Harry practically purred as he pulled back.

„Mm… champagne?“

„More appropriate than apple juice… at a wedding?“ Severus lifted a brow, looking down at him almost arrogantly—but fortunately, Harry knew better.

„You know I don’t like alcohol… but it tastes good on you“, he assured him with a grin. Severus’ eyes flashed.

„There are other things I know that taste good“, he promised, so darkly that Harry shifted restlessly without meaning to.

„Oh really? Cream comes to mind“, Harry replied innocently.

„Mister Potter…“ What was surely meant to sound like a reprimand slid over Harry warm and rough enough that he stepped closer again, simply to kiss him once more.

Severus let his fingertips trail over Harry’s cheek into his hair, then lower—over his chin and jaw, down his throat - which made Harry break the kiss and tip his head back slightly.

„You’re being particularly forward today.“

„This is as close to my own wedding as I’m ever going to get—let me have this“, Harry shot back, following the hand with his head until Severus touched his cheek again. He turned slightly and kissed Severus’ knuckles, then sighed and pulled back to a distance that was, regrettably, appropriate. „Spoilsport.“

„I’m merely making sure no one feels compelled to start a brawl.“

They both glanced toward a few particularly unbearable Weasley uncles. Since Molly and Arthur had practically adopted Harry into the family - despite the fact that he wasn’t marrying in - those men seemed to believe he should behave accordingly. Harry rolled his eyes.

„Ignore them. In half an hour they’ll be too drunk to notice us anymore.“ He was absolutely certain of that.

„Drunk… and still armed with a wand.“

Harry let out a breath and stole Severus’ glass, only to wrinkle his nose when he sniffed it and realized it was still champagne, pouting immediately. Beside him, Severus rolled his eyes, drew his wand, summoned the glass Harry had simply left behind, and pressed it into his hand.

„Leave my glass alone. That one’s for adults only.“

Harry stuck out his tongue at him before taking a sip of his juice.

„You mean old men“, he added, setting the glass down again.

„Weren’t you planning to stay over there?“ Severus ignored the comment entirely, though Harry knew full well it annoyed him.

„I’m a very spontaneous person. I’ve just- quite spontaneously - changed my mind.“

„Didn’t you like the view?“ Severus purred as they leaned side by side against the table now, close enough that they could speak more quietly. Which, conveniently, made Severus’ voice drop even lower. Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment.

„So much that I had to take a closer look.“

„Mmh“, Severus murmured softly and lifted one arm from the table. From a distance, it probably didn’t look particularly scandalous. They were both wearing black formal robes, and in the dim light near the outer tables they likely blended into one dark shape anyway. And it allowed Severus to trail his fingers slowly along Harry’s spine.

„Weren’t you trying to avoid brawls?“

„I’m not doing anything that would provoke one.“

„No, but if you keep this up, I’ll have to undress you and sit on you, and I fear that might lead to more than one brawl,“ Harry replied, amused.

Severus rolled his eyes.

„You’re being overdramatic. I’m not doing anything at all.“

That nothing at all was enough to send goosebumps racing over Harry’s entire body, and it didn’t improve when Severus’ fingers slipped between the folds of his formal robe and began to glide over the white shirt beneath. Harry drew a deep breath and stared blankly into the marquee, no longer registering what might be happening there. Overdramatic was very clearly also Harry’s body, which had spontaneously decided to turn itself into one single erogenous zone.

Suddenly Severus withdrew his hand, and Harry looked up almost alarmed. Some uncle about to start a fight?

Instead, Severus leaned in close, close enough to murmur right by his ear.

„How brave are you, Lion?“ he rasped. Harry had to clear his throat several times.

„Does it involve taking clothes off?“ he croaked. He certainly felt like taking clothes off. Severus laughed low and rough.

„No… just dancing.“

„Oh Merlin, yes!“ He wasn’t entirely sure he’d make it to the dance floor without incident - where Ron and Hermione were currently performing their opening dance - but yes, damn it, he wanted to dance with Severus.

For one thing, Severus danced beautifully. For another, it meant a lot of physical closeness, and Harry was very much on board with that. Suddenly, the couple’s opening dance couldn’t end quickly enough, even though they looked lovely together. At last, others joined the floor, and Severus didn’t hesitate, offering Harry his hand. Harry took it immediately.

They stayed near the edge, which suited him just fine. He didn’t need the spotlight at all.

Dancing with Severus was like dreaming. Time passed without him truly noticing, the whole world fading away. There was only Severus’ hands on his body, their robes swirling around each other, and black eyes Harry sank into. He barely even registered the music. It became even better when the traditional dances ended and much more romantic music began to play, because it allowed them to draw far closer to one another, regardless of any uncles or other idiots, regardless of the cake that was cut somewhere along the way.

When they were already little more than gently swaying instead of truly dancing, he slipped his arms around Severus.

„I love you“, he whispered, suddenly deeply moved by it all, by the simple fact that Severus was here. Severus let his fingers trail from Harry’s nape down his back, very tenderly.

„I love you“, he replied just as softly. Harry pressed his temple against Severus’ jaw, clinging to him for a moment.

„Marry me“, slipped out of him - not that he wanted to take it back.

„Harry…“

„I know. Marry me“, he repeated, even though they both knew it wasn’t possible. Not officially. „I want to buy you a ring. One you’ll wear. Always“, he whispered, now only swaying gently with him. Perhaps Severus was the one holding him and moving them. „So everyone can see right away that you’re taken… and no one gets any stupid ideas.“

Not that Harry was jealous or anything… not at all.

„Not that anyone else would want me. Normal people have eyes in their heads“, Severus replied.

„You just don’t see how wonderful you are… but that’s not a problem. I see it“, Harry assured him earnestly, holding him tight. „I see it, Severus.“

„It’s starting, it’s starting!“

Ginny, who practically shouted straight into their ears, made them both flinch badly. All at once, their surroundings returned; reality reshaped itself around them, the many people streaming toward the exit of the tent. Harry let out a soft sigh, already about to turn away as well, but then he paused and smiled involuntarily when Severus reached for his hand.

So they left the dance floor together, and finally the tent. As best man, Harry’s place was, of course, right at the front — Severus simply slipped in behind him. Cheers erupted as Ron and Hermione stepped into the aisle formed by the guests. Flowers and rice were thrown, applause rang out enthusiastically. Harry didn’t throw anything; his hands were busy clapping, and then, moments later, holding Hermione in one last tight embrace just as the magical carriage landed, drawn through the night sky by an Abraxan Horse.

„Don’t overdo it“, Harry muttered, which earned him nothing but Ron’s loud, happy laughter. Ron pulled Hermione back to him at once and helped her onto the carriage step; the two of them turned once more to wave at the guests, which Harry, of course, returned, before they disappeared into the beautiful white-and-gold carriage. The huge winged horse leaned into its harness, then lifted off the ground with powerful strokes, pulling the carriage up into the night sky.

Harry leaned back gently against Severus so he could tilt his head up and watch the carriage fly away. Severus slid his arms around him and buried his nose in Harry’s hair.

„I will“, he whispered, audible only to Harry, who closed his eyes and, for the second time that evening, was certain he must be his own small sun, shining so brightly.