Disclaimer: I don't get paid to write this, mercifully.

Warnings: Mature sex (in more ways than one).

A/N: This kind of has a plot, if you tilt your head. Also, it's borderline crack. It's not beta'd because it wasn't really worth the effort.


Harry Potter sat at a table under the pavillion, watching the dancers and impatiently tapping his foot. Even at forty-eight, with all his years of maturity, he still didn't particularly enjoy dancing. He had to smile a little at the way Ron elegantly swept around the floor with Hermione in his arms. Unlike Harry, he'd certainly developed grace and skill. It was nice to see that they were still so in love that they had eyes only for one another.

Suffering a small pang, Harry glanced over at Ginny, two tables away. She was laughing and talking with Audrey and Angelina, and she looked far younger than her age. Her deep red hair had softened to a lighter version, and her curves were rounder than in her youth, but she was still beautiful. She looked up and spotted Harry, offering a tiny smile. He returned it.

It was a marvel they could be in the same room together. Their constant bickering had reached fever-pitch, and they'd eventually decided to call it quits the summer before Lily's fourth year at Hogwarts. That was six years ago. The strange thing was that once they weren't living under the same roof, they'd begun to work through what had gone wrong. They'd become friends again, and now here they sat, coexisting more than peacefully at Rose Weasley's wedding. Harry briefly contemplated asking her for a dance before remembering exactly why that would be a bad idea. Squashing her toes whilst awkwardly trying to lead wouldn't do much for their relationship.

Instead, he chose to continue letting his eyes wander the pavillion. His gaze came to rest on another familiar face: Draco Malfoy. That in itself was another odd state of affairs. Until their children were Hogwarts-bound, Harry hadn't had any contact at all with Malfoy. Even afterwards, they saw one another at best a handful of times a year, waiting for the Hogwarts Express to arrive or depart. Their children were another matter.

Rose had taken her father's charge to "beat Scorpius in everything" seriously. Fiercely competitive, she'd worked hard to secure her place as a top student. She was no less brilliant than her mother, of course. Unfortunately, Scorpius Malfoy was equally brilliant. Rose, outgoing and outspoken, made her intentions clear without mincing words—she was out to win. Scorpius was more understated, quiet and introspective. He was also sly, and he had the advantage of being Albus Potter's best friend from the moment they were sorted into Slytherin together. When Rose issued her challenge, Scorpius took it, only with a lot more subtlty. Now, more than ten years later, they were getting married so as to go on outdoing each other properly.

Harry decided that was some sort of weird poetic justice, that a Malfoy and a Weasley were getting married. It was a wonder both Ron and Draco didn't drop over dead on the spot when they found out. Harry had taken it all in stride; there was no escaping the blending of their families. He rather liked Scorpius, and besides, he'd been through the shock once already. James' wife, Hyacinth, was Scorpius' cousin on his mother's side.

In the previous two years, Harry had attended numerous weddings as the children of his classmates reached adulthood. Simply because the wizarding world wasn't particularly large, he and Malfoy had attended quite a lot of the same affairs. Their friends' children intermarried, unhindered by the prejudices of the past, largely influenced by their parents' desire not to repeat the previous generation's mistakes. Harry and Malfoy had gone from occasional terse acknowledgements to being in the same room for extended periods of time on a repeating basis.

The most uncomfortable one had been James and Hyacinth's wedding, which was the first of the lot. Malfoy had only been there because his divorce from his wife was recent, and they'd already planned to attend together before separating. For the sake of their niece, they'd apparently agreed to go as a couple. That had been a supremely bad decision, and Harry had ended up wanting to hex the daylights out of both of them. They'd had a public row and stormed off in opposite directions just as the happy couple were about to share their first dance. It was a mess.

After the yelling match, Malfoy had gone to sulk in the toilets. Harry had followed him, intending to have it out with him for making a scene at James' wedding. They'd argued, and Harry had threatened to hex him into the following week. He was prepared to make good on that when Malfoy surprised him by breaking down and sobbing. After that, Harry hadn't quite had the heart to carry through.

Now Harry sat under the pavillion at the Burrow, sipping his drink and marvelling that Draco Malfoy was in the home of the senior Weasleys—and not making snide remarks. He thought the world might stop spinning. Risking another glance, he saw Malfoy glowering at him. Harry scowled in return.

After another few minutes, Harry decided to retreat to the house for a bit of privacy and a stop in the loo. There was a facility set up for the guests, of course, so that Molly and Arthur wouldn't have people traipsing through their house constantly. But Harry was family, and he knew no one would mind. He slipped inside and made his way to the toilet.

He finished and was in the midst of washing his hands when there was a rap on the door. He called out, "I'm in here. Be out in a moment." He shut off the tap and dried his hands.

There was no response, and Harry didn't hear retreating footsteps. Instead, there was the distinct snick of the lock disengaging. Harry pressed himself against the wall. He didn't draw his wand, but it was readily available, and his reflexes were good. He held his breath.

Before he could register what was happening, the other person was inside, and the lock slid back into place. He found himself with an armful of a gorgeous blond, on the receiving end of a heated snog. Once his brain kicked into gear, he returned it enthusiastically.

When they came up for air, Draco said, "Thank Merlin. I've been waiting all night for you to find a way to get us some privacy. I was starting to get quite annoyed with you. This is all your fault. You know how I am at weddings, thanks to you."

Harry chuckled and muttered a quick wandless Muffliato, waving his hand at the door. "I do. And I plan to take full advantage of that."

"Not if I take advantage of you first."

Draco didn't bother with further conversation. He kissed Harry aggressively whilst tugging impatiently at his dress robes, breaking contact only briefly to remove his own. He deposited both sets of robes in the corner and pressed against Harry, grinding their hips together. He was clearly already fully aroused, and after their desperate frotting, Harry was well on his way to the same stage. Draco tried to slide his hands up Harry's formal shirt, but the buttons were too tight. Hastily, Harry unfastened them to give Draco better access. When he'd managed his own, he reached out and flicked open Draco's shirt.

They yanked off the shirts, and Draco half-heartedly aimed for the pile of robes when he tossed them aside. He slipped his hands beneath Harry's undershirt, running his thumbs across Harry's nipples, smirking against Harry's lips when he gasped. Harry tugged on the hem of Draco's undershirt, and they barely managed to stop kissing long enough to finish stripping from the waist up.

Swiftly, Draco span Harry around so he faced the wall and leaned in close, pressing kisses along his jaw and down his neck. He licked and sucked the place just below Harry's ear, causing both of them to moan pleasurably. Simultaneously, he ran his hands down Harry's back and sides, eliciting a shiver. When he reached Harry's belt, he unfastened it and pulled it off then made himself busy fiddling with the flies on Harry's trousers. He gave a breathy cry of triumph when he succeeded in opening them, pushing them down and out of the way. Harry braced his hands on the wall and widened his stance in anticipation.

Draco reached around to grasp Harry's cock. Harry groaned and tilted his head back so it rested on Draco's shoulder. He ground his arse backwards against Draco, and Draco ran his free hand through Harry's hair. Harry stilled the hand that was stroking him and reached back to touch Draco's hip.

"You still have too many clothes," he muttered.

Draco let go of Harry and worked at his flies, undoing the buttons and shoving everything down. They took the opportunity to kick their shoes, trousers and pants aside with the rest of their clothes. Returning to his place behind Harry, Draco pressed against him and rutted against his bare arse. They were both breathless and eager by the time Draco whispered a couple of spells and slid his hand down between Harry's cheeks. He slipped a finger inside, then followed it with a second one. When he began to move, Harry was almost panting.

"Merlin. Just fuck me already, will you?" he ground out.

"Gladly." Draco withdrew his hand and aligned himself, pushing inside.

Harry cried out as he entered, and they set up a rhythm, rocking together. "Touch me," he demanded. Draco reached around to grip him, stroking in concert with their thrusts.

Draco was close; Harry knew well enough by now the signals. He reached back and touched Draco, tugging him closer. Draco's hand moved from Harry's cock to his hip, bracing himself so he could increase his pace. Harry replaced Draco's hand with his own, desperately needing release. It only took another moment before Draco uttered a long, low moan and briefly stilled his motion before thrusting through the aftershocks. The feral sound of Draco's climax sent Harry over the edge, and he came hard against the wall, swallowing a grunt of pleasure.

They moved gently against each other as they calmed down. After a few minutes, Draco slipped free and they cast a few cleaning charms. They sorted through the pile of discarded clothing and began to put themselves back together. Harry looked ruefully at the heap of dress robes, knowing that even anti-wrinkle charms probably wouldn't entirely fix their sorry state. He shrugged and pulled on his trousers. It had been worth it.

Once they were dressed, they attempted to tidy themselves up. It wouldn't do to look freshly shagged when returning to the pavillion. Harry smoothed Draco's hair, and Draco straightened the collar of Harry's dress robes. They exchanged a brief, chaste kiss, and Harry enjoyed the smug smile Draco offered him. Satisfied—in more ways than one—they exited the loo.

On the way back through the kitchen, they were stopped by Lily and Rose. Rose eyed both men and her gaze turned stony. "You've been hexing each other again!" she accused indignantly. "And at my wedding, too. Uncle Harry, you promised!"

"Daddy, how could you?" Lily put in.

Harry and Draco exchanged a glance. They clearly had not put themselves together properly, and the young women had spotted it. Rose was obviously gearing up for a long, loud lecture—she really was her mother's daughter—when several more people appeared in the kitchen.

"Harry, where have you been? We came to find you before they cut the cake," Hermione said. Ron stood mutely behind her, his eyebrows raised as he took in Harry and Draco's dishevelled appearance.

Ginny, Astoria, and Scorpius were in the doorway, their expressions puzzled. Just as Harry was about to make up some lame excuse for why he and Draco looked like they'd been behaving like their thirteen-year-old selves, James showed up.

He took one look at them and said, "Merlin's balls, Dad. Were you and Mr. Malfoy shagging in the loo again? Couldn't you have at least held it in until you got home?"

There was a deathly silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco clench his teeth; a muscle in his jaw twitched. For his part, Harry was unable to keep his mouth from dropping open. He didn't spare a thought for why no one else looked particularly upset at what James had said.

Before he could stop himself, Harry squeaked out, "You knew about that?" He immediately covered his mouth with his hand in the vain hope he could stuff the words back in where they belonged.

James rolled his eyes. "It was a little hard to miss when you didn't cast your Muffliato properly at my wedding. I went to have a pee, and I could hear damn near everything. The pair of you were arguing, and I was afraid you'd hexed each other unconscious when it suddenly got quiet. I went in, and apparently, your spell only extended outside the toilets as a whole, not your particular stall."

"Oh, god," Harry said faintly. When he had collected himself, he looked around to see that nearly every face bore an identical look, somewhere between being horrified and amused.

"You can all go back about your business," Draco said firmly. "We'll be there to see them cut the cake in a moment."

"Hang on," Harry said, holding up a hand to stop them leaving. "Why are none of you upset about this?"

"I might be a little upset that you were having sex in the toilet at my daughter's wedding," Hermione admitted. "But I'm neither angry nor surprised at who you were with."

"You're not?" Harry's eyebrows shot up.

Ron clapped him on the back. "You've got to admit, it does make a weird kind of sense. Nearly forty years of being obsessed with each other, it was about time you sorted yourselves." He turned around and walked out with his arm around his wife.

The others followed suit. Lily and Rose linked arms, and Harry heard Lily say, "So, they're, like, together now?" He didn't catch Rose's reply.

When they were alone, Harry turned to Draco nervously. "Er."

"You do have a way with words, Potter." Draco's tone was obnoxious, but he smiled, so that was all right.

Relieved, Harry asked, "So, what do we do now?"

"I'd say our secret's out, so we might as well enjoy it. Let's go watch them cut the cake. Then perhaps you'll finally let me teach you how to dance properly."

Harry leaned up to murmur, "I might if there's something in it for me."

Draco put his mouth against Harry's ear. "Oh, trust me, there will be." He glanced past Harry for a moment before grabbing his arse and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Then let's go."

Hand in hand, they walked back out to the pavillion.