Written for Coonassblondie over at HP_porninthesun on LiveJournal. This story has two main pairings: Draco/Harry and Charlie/Hermione. JK Rowling owns it all, I make nothing, hence my being poor. :D

"Harry, I don't think this is a good idea," Hermione whispered to her best friend.

He looked over his shoulder and frowned at her. "I know, but I can't let him do this."

She scanned the gathered crowd and shook her head. "It looks like he's already made his choice." She held out her hand to indicate the people. "I mean this is pretty final, wouldn't you say?"

"He was forced!" Harry ground out loudly.

"Keep your voice down, they'll hear you!"

"Good, let them."

"You don't mean that." She crossed her arms. "You'll embarrass him."

Running his fingers through his unruly hair and sighing in disappointment, Harry finally nodded his head. "You're right." He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes to keep the tears from welling. "But I just want to talk to him before he does this—see if what happened back then meant anything."

Hermione bit her lip. "It was the end of the war, Harry... we all did things we regret."

He knew she was talking about the impromptu shag that she and Ron had had that fateful night in May the year before. When things hadn't turned out quite the way they had planned, they'd quietly gone their separate ways, though Molly Weasley had made it difficult for Hermione to show her face around the Burrow again. Harry knew Ron would never ostracise their best friend—the result of Molly's cold behaviour towards Hermione—and it made his falling out with Ginny even easier—never mind his growing attraction for someone of the Slytherin persuasion.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

"No!" he hissed in frustration. "I won't let him go through with this!"

"Harry!" She tried to grab hold of his suit jacket, but it was too late. Watching him stride down the aisle towards the couple standing before a representative of the Ministry, she began contemplating escape routes for them both, hoping to avoid incarceration—or worse—for daring to interrupt Draco Malfoy's wedding.

Draco stared numbly straight ahead, giving no thought to the beautiful woman by his side. It should've been the most joyous day of his life. Instead, he felt quite ill. Nothing could be done for it, really, not with his father right behind him, pointing the proverbial wand to his son's back to make sure he went through with the ceremony.

It was a breezy day in the month of June. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the blushing bride was... blushing. He wished he could've said it was all perfect, except that he'd just met his wife-to-be the day before at the rehearsal brunch. In fairytales, a couple fell in love first before even contemplating marriage, he mused, but then he remembered his last name and the dream dissipated into reality.

Marrying Astoria Greengrass wouldn't have been so bad if she didn't have that damned laugh, the kind where you didn't know if the person was dying because of the sounds emanating from their mouth. That, or she brayed like an ass—a loud one. He found that out when his father had made a quip about how Narcissa had had too much to drink and kept referring to Astoria as a vacuum with nipples. Astoria had thought Lucius had been referring to another guest and had so decided to join in the laughter. Draco mentally groaned at the remembrance of that loud, obnoxious hooting and tried to resign himself to living with it the rest of his life. He cringed again. What if she did that during sex? Oh, God! He was starting to fidget and panic now.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

Was he seriously thinking about going through with it? He wiped his sweaty palms on the fine material of his formal dress robes and quickly glanced at his intended. She gave him a simpering smile and he had to force himself not to retch.

"If there be any among you that has just cause why these two should not be joined in the bonds of eternal matrimony, then speak now or forever hold your—"

"Harry!" a feminine voice cried out, startling the audience.

"I do!" The saviour of the Wizarding world walked hurriedly up the aisle, drawing gasps from the crowd, his gaze intent on Draco.

Draco's eyes widened and he retreated so far that he backed right into the Minister.

"You do what, Mister Potter?" Lucius drawled off to Harry's left.

Harry had faced Lucius many a time over the years and had never once been afraid of him. But that was different; this concerned his heart, not whether he lived or died. The glare sent his way from the Malfoy patriarch was more menacing than anything he'd previously beheld.

"I-I—"

"Well?" Lucius snapped, moving closer. "Eloquent as always, Mister Potter." He looked the younger man up and down with a sneer. "My writing a cheque to the Ministry does not mean an automatic invitation to Draco's wedding. Why are you here?"

"I object," he answered with a little more strength behind it. "To Draco's getting married."

Since the wedding was being held outside, the only thing that could be heard at that point was the occasional trill of a peacock; the scene had descended into complete silence.

Glancing between his son and the dark-haired man, Lucius was overcome with an uneasy feeling. Shifting until he was nose to nose with the younger wizard, he bared his teeth in a predatory smile. "And why, pray tell, would Draco be concerned if you object or not?"

Swallowing audibly, Harry closed his eyes and then reopened them. "Because I love him," he whispered so low, only Lucius heard him.

Murderous thoughts filled Lucius' mind and shone through his narrowed gaze. "You have taken many things from my family, Harry Potter, but you will never have my son."

"Luuuuciusssss," Narcissa called from behind her husband, her inebriation evident. "What's going on?"

"Not now, Cissy," he gritted through clenched teeth, never removing his attention from Harry. "It's just a misunderstanding, that's all."

"You wish," the other taunted under his breath.

"Why are you here?" Draco asked Harry hesitantly. It surprised him to see his former nemesis standing there, toe-to-toe with his father, but the reaction in his chest surprised him even more. "I don't recall sending you an invitation."

Harry turned and looked at the blond in sad longing. "You didn't." He moved away from Lucius. "I need to talk to you," he whispered. At Draco's arched eyebrow, he added, "Privately."

Grabbing Potter's arm, Lucius began pulling him away from the couple. "You'll leave your felicitations for the wedded pair at the door, won't you?" He shoved Harry past the curtained pillar entrance.

"Draco, please!" Harry cried.

Astoria looked utterly confused. "Why didn't you let him stay? He's very famous."

A sneer grew on Draco's face. "Shut up, you vacuous hyena!"

She frowned in confusion. "What's a hyena?"

"Never mind," he said with disgust, throwing off her hand when it clung to his arm. "Stay here."

To everyone's astonishment, the would-be groom marched up the aisle to where his sire was about to hex Harry, and grabbed his wrist as he raised his wand. "Don't, Father." His tone was low and dangerous. "Need I remind you he saved my arse multiple times?"

His lip curling in disgust, Lucius shook off his son. "Since I am neither doddering nor on the verge, then no, Draco... you don't need to remind me."

"I don't think this would look good to our guests, do you?"

The ex-Death Eater had to bite back the Unforgivable just begging to be let loose. "You have five minutes." He gave the bespectacled young man a faux smile. "I highly suggest that you are not present once those five minutes have passed, Potter." Straightening his cravat, he tilted his neck until it cracked. "Otherwise, hero or not, anyone that is not a pure-blood will be nothing but a pile of ash." He inclined his head and left.

Both young men watched him leave, though neither said anything for a full minute.

"Clock is ticking, Potter," Draco reminded the man in front of him. "What do you want?"

Inhaling deeply, Harry slowly approached the blond until he stood slightly off to his right. "Tell me you felt something that day," he said, voice low as a breath.

Draco's brow furrowed. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That day, after the mess in the Room of Requirement." Harry licked his lips and moved closer.

Eyes widening a fraction, Malfoy backed away as he remembered the passionate kiss he'd indulged in with Potter. "It was a mistake." He held up his hand to keep the other wizard at bay. "I was grateful to be alive."

Harry snorted. "So grateful you snogged the hell out of me?"

Hermione poked her head around the diaphanous curtain. "Harry, we seriously need to—oh, hello Ferret."

"Mudblood." He returned her greeting without its usual venom. He looked at Harry pointedly. "Potter was just leaving before he becomes Floo powder."

Not caring if he was overstepping his bounds, Harry grabbed the fabric of Draco's robes, and pulled him near. "Let me prove to you that snog wasn't just a one off."

Wrapping his long fingers around the shorter wizard's wrist, Malfoy tightened his grasp until Harry released his grip. "There is nothing to prove, Potter." Without letting go, Draco glanced at his timepiece. "And your time is up."

"Stupid men and their recalcitrant emotions," Hermione huffed. She stuck her hand in the pocket of her skirt and withdrew a rather bulky pamphlet. "Hold on."

Without giving either man much choice, she embraced them both the exact same moment that the familiar suction of a Portkey whisked all three away from the Malfoy estate.