Chapter 1

.

"So how's it going?" Ron asked while looking over Harry's shoulder, though he was more leaning on it than looking over it, his chin digging in. Harry could hear the yawn in his voice.

"Fine, I'm just checking on your wedding robe and making the last arrangements. With the party over, there's not much to do anymore," Harry stated, before picking up a red flower from the samples to carry to the desk behind them, so that Ron wouldn't fall asleep on his shoulder. The hangover was apparent on his friend's face and Harry couldn't stop a gloating grin spreading over his face. He had been so busy organizing this party and looking after all the guests that he had hardly got anything to drink. So now it just served Ron right.

Harry put the flower in a glass box and cast the required spells to ensure that it wouldn't bloom until the wedding. When he looked it over critically he was momentarily reminded of the tale, 'The Beauty and the Beast'.

"And how's it going with your dancing?" he inquired then, turning back to Ron.

The man gave a displeased sound and leaned heavily on the table where upon laid the various flower samples.

"My feet hurt like hell and it doesn't even pay off! I'm still just as bad as before," he growled, glaring at nothing in particular. Harry just smiled fondly at his best friend.

"Oh come on, you're too hard on yourself. I'm sure you'll be a great dancer. It's not like anybody expects any miracles from you." Harry said, lightly nudging Ron. He'd stepped back to the table, and was leaning next to him.

"Oh great, thank you so much, Harry, you always know how to boost my self-esteem," Ron replied sarcastically but he did it with a smile and nudged Harry back just that much harder.

Instead of shoving back like usual, Harry frowned at Ron and gave him a once over, his eyes fixed on Ron's lips – or rather his teeth. Abruptly the mouth was closed and the head turned in an attempt to cut off any impending remark. Ron should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

"Have you taken the teeth cleaner, yet? The one Hermione's parents gave you?"

"I…" a stutter, then a pause, before Ron silently glared at Harry.

"Ron, it only shows effect after three days, and there are only four left. You have to start with it today!" Harry reprimanded sternly. This only earned him a huff from Ron, who crossed his arms in front of his chest. For a man who was going to marry in four days, he was behaving pretty childishly, Harry thought. He also told Ron so.

"Well, I did start with it yesterday. It's just... Harry, it's so gross and it feels like it's ace inmy whole mouth! It can't be healthy!" he exclaimed throwing his arms in the air.

"Ron, it was tested by numerous dentists and specialists; it's the best on the market. Besides, Hermione's parents wouldn't give you anything that could harm you. They just want you to look good, at least at the wedding."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron replied, insulted.

"You know what I mean it. They're dentists, they notice your teeth and Ron … they look like you haven't brushed them in your entire life." And that's probably quite an accurate assumption, Harry thought to himself.

"It's not that bad! It's not like my teeth are black, they're just a little yellow. And I don't have holes, Hermione's father said so himself. Wizards don't get holes."

"Yeah, sure, just a little yellow", Harry imitated. "Ron, your teeth may not have holes but they're still bad, they need a once over and since you refuse to let your parents-in-law do that, this is the best they can offer."

"Why can't I take something else? How about those stripe-things? It said they work in two or three days. And they would do for the wedding, I'd have white teeth."

"Well, it wasn't me who almost shrieked that they were too girly, remember? Besides, they probably wouldn't work on your teeth anyway."

"It's not that bad, Harry!" Ron once again exclaimed indignantly.

"That's what you say. And what I say isn't really the crux, is it?" Harry gave Ron a pointed look. It didn't take long for the freckled face to turn a darker shade and blue eyes to widen with insecurity.

"It's not... she hasn't complained, has she?" Ron asked, almost inaudibly, as if not daring to open his mouth properly.

Harry looked at him and said slowly with emphasise, "She is the daughter of two dentists."

"I'll go take it," was the last thing Ron said before hurrying out of the small room and probably through Ginny's wedding shop to the chimney to floo home.

Harry wasn't alone for long though.

"That's a nice rose."

Harry stiffened but relaxed his stance almost immediately and turned slowly with a blank face. No need to show John how much hearing his voice alone caused Harry's gut to clinch in a tumult of feelings.

"It's not a rose, it's a …"

His look shifted awkwardly. Flowers had never been his strong feature. They never had been of interest to him.

"What are you doing here?" Harry abruptly asked, not able to stand the silence that had stretched between them.

"I-", John coughed slightly as if ashamed of what he was about to say. "I heard from the minister you were here and so I came by to-", again he stopped.

Harry grimaced at this. He felt weary. John was good with words; he would never fumble with them. It was the reason he was the minister's right hand man and one of the reasons Harry had fallen for him. He was pulling an act and even though he might actually feel awkward, it would never be to this degree. Strangely, more than anything, Harry felt offended by the fact that John even thought he could fool him so easily to begin with. They'd been together for over a year after all; he should know better.

"Why should Arthur tell you I was here?" Harry stated slowly, already knowing what the answer would be, but asking anyway, partially to make it easier for John to come to the point. And sure enough, the embarrassment cleared away like smoke and John relaxed into his usual self-confident manner, sure of himself and his rhetoric skills – his 'master of the words-mode', as Harry secretly called it.

"I did not say he told me, I just heard it from him. Look, I really needed to talk to you", he stated eagerly and Harry felt himself react to his eagerness, unwillingly getting ready to do anything. He was disgusted by his own reaction and both longed for John to leave, to spare him the tightening of his heart that he always felt in his proximity nowadays, and at the same time, wanting to relish in every second he could be with him.

"What about?" Harry said simply, thanking Merlin for his steady voice.

John came closer, around the table and suddenly the room seemed even smaller than before and Harry's vision narrowed down to the lean and muscular form of the man he loved and longed for so much.

"Please, you have to do something for me. Only if it is alright, of course."

"Of course", Harry repeated hoarsely and this time didn't give a damn about his voice. He felt dazed.

"I would like to bring a friend to the wedding. They're really interested and-"

All of a sudden Harry's daze was gone, leaving him cold inside and out. He closed his eyes for the moment, his heart thumbing and breaking all over again.

"A friend," he all but hissed it out interrupting John in his hurtful rumble. "Why don't you just say it? You want to bring your new girlfriend!" He didn't scream, not yet, but he glared daggers at John challenging him to deny it. "We all know you'll bring her, what is this for?" He couldn't help but sound accusing; he didn't even bother trying to avoid it. He couldn't understand where this was leading, except maybe hurting him even more than before. His expression turned hard at the thought, barely concealing the betrayal that closed around him.

Regret showed on John's face.

"No… god, I'm so sorry! This was a bad mistake, Harry, I am sorry. I was just trying to do this right, sort it out. I don't want to hurt you! I never wanted to hurt you," the last was whispered in a small voice that didn't fail to ease Harry's rage, instead replacing it with a deep sadness more painful in its finality than Harry could bear.

"I wanted to make sure if you will be able to cope with this. Maybe it would be better, I'd come alone though."

He trailed off, sighing pitifully. And oh, how fast rage can reappear. Harry's jaw set. He wanted nothing more than to petulantly reply You'll survive, I'm sure, but he knew it would just sound childish. So he kept silence and John didn't notice the glares that Harry threw him as he avoided looking at him.

Harry took a deep breath to steady himself again.

"You think I can't cope?" he asked in a lofty tone. You're damn right I can't, he thought bitterly, but he wouldn't say that aloud either. John shifted uncomfortably, darting his eyes around. Sympathy threatened to arise in Harry but he quickly pushed it aside – it wouldn't help.

"Why would you think that I'd have a problem with that?"

Now see who finally found the guts to face his ex again, though in this case John was less facing Harry straight on than simply blinking confusedly at him. Harry enjoyed the glee he was feeling at that.

"Really, it's no problem." He emphasized the last words and was surprised at how confident he sounded. He definitely had learnt how to lie.

"Well, you'll be there alone after all," John stated incredulously at last. He sounded unsure at the self-confidence and maybe even a little bothered at the prospect, Harry allowed himself to hope. He rebuked himself instantly for it though and instead concentrated instead on the implication and all sympathy for his ex was destroyed at once. Oh, Mr. 'I'm so great I can even dump Harry Potter like a wet towel' thinks Harry wouldn't even be able to find a date to his best friends' wedding. As if he would weep for him forever. It may have been true, but nevertheless, how dare he think that? Harry could have anybody! Maybe he should make that clear to him, somehow.

"Don't worry, I'll be just fine", he sneered – and who would have thought he could do that. He was suddenly reminded of another face that had performed sneering like an art in his school time. Harry's voice turned from the high-pitched defence to a superior tone like he had seen Malfoy do numerous times back in the days.

"I'm glad for your happiness" – he said, thinking, 'as if', at the same time – "and actually, I won't be there alone at all." He waited and watched John carefully. A new bout of irritation arose when he saw the pity on the handsome face, but he squelched down on it in favour of smiling triumphantly at John. "Come on, do you really think I'd just come alone? Or that I'd even stay alone for long at all? I'm Harry Potter, you seem to forget that."

"But you wouldn't want a relationship based on that."

"Very true, I'm glad you at least know that. But don't worry, really. It's perfect. He's definitely not with me because of my fame, I can assure you." I certainly can't assure you of anything else, Harry thought with his fake smile in place, silently praying for a way out. This wasn't going well, what was he doing?

"Who?"

The question Harry had been hoping he wouldn't have to answer. Damn it all, he couldn't back out; this was spiralling to a horrible end he could see it and still he couldn't stop now.

"You'll see." He replied with all the confidence he could muster up.

The doubt in John's look was evident but even worse was the returning pity. It made Harry want to grind his teeth with hurt pride. Before he could register it himself, he was babbling on, too eager to convince his ex he wasn't as pathetic and desperate as he apparently really was.

"It's an old school mate. You may have heard of him..." he paused, whether for emphasis or to gather his last ounce of courage, Harry didn't exactly know. At least John was only looking weary now and not pitying anymore. "Draco Malfoy."

Harry watched closely as the weariness on the beloved face made room for surprise, shock and then again doubt, though this time probably more because he wasn't sure he had heard right.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he'll be there too, I'm sure you'll meet there. And your 'friend' won't be a problem, so would you mind?"

Harry indicated to the samples on the table and also to do door, making it unmistakable for John that it was time to go. After hesitating shortly and casting a last assessing look at Harry, he did just that. Before he was out of the room though, he half turned again, and stated in a cautious tone, that Harry felt was more challenging than it was anything else. "Well, then I'm looking forward to meeting this new boyfriend of yours. I am curious. I just want the best for you Harry. So, see you there."

The door shut and with it any tension holding Harry up seemed to drain out of his body. He slumped heavily against the table behind him and dropped his head in his hands with a sigh. What the fuck was he doing? He couldn't actually be thinking about...? No, it was ridiculous. It could only end badly. But he'd already brought himself into this mess. The best course to take now was probably to say that his new boyfriend 'Draco' was sick or something. That would probably save him a lot more embarrassment. Harry grimaced behind his hands. He could already see the faces, the pity on John's face.

A slight cough coming from the threshold made Harry jump almost out of his skin, his head shot up and his eyes widened in fear of seeing John there, only to find Ron smiling apologetic.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"Since when have you been here?"

Ron shrugged at Harry's question but the shift in his stance said he must have at least seen John.

"Just a few minutes. Enough to see Him." Harry's gut sank when he saw the bewilderment in Ron's face. Oh no, how much did he hear?

"So… a new boyfriend?"

"I..." Harry stuttered and by Merlin's great grandfather he had no idea what to do or say. It was one thing lying to his ex in a futile attempt to protect his pride and it was another to lie at his best friend. He had completely forgotten about Ron and Hermione. "I'm sorry Ron. I didn't want to... I didn't plan to do this!" He abruptly hissed and buried a hand in his hair.

"What are you so nervous about? Harry, if you have a new boyfriend or even just a date, I don't care. You know, me and Hermione will happily agree to you bringing whoever you want." Ron ended pointedly and Harry just stared at him. "You know, we would have uninvited the bastard from the wedding if only he hadn't been dad's assistant and the wedding hadn't demanded that high and stuck-up guest list." Ron grimaced, alighting a well-known and comfortable feeling in his best man. "You know I hated that from the start when we decided to marry."

"Yeah, I know," Harry mumbled, remembering the sour look on Ron's face when he realised how little they actually had to say in their own wedding as he was the son of the minister, both were best friends of the world's saviour and were famous war heroes themselves. Harry had felt bad for them and also a little guilty, though it wasn't really his fault. They were public figures and that was what came with the fame. They all accepted it eventually.

"We can't change it though. But we definitely won't let you mob around unhappily there. So if you bring someone, it'll be great, whoever it is." Ron smiled encouragingly. "So you'll show it to that idiot?"

Harry smiled back a little. "Yeah, I'll do that."

They smiled at each other like that for a few seconds before Ron got increasingly uncomfortable with all the talking about feelings and such. It made Harry laugh delightedly. This felt like old days: simply good.

"Alright, so I really have to go. I want to try and see if I can sneak a little glance at my future wife before the wedding. They sure as hell keep her occupied."

Harry laughed at that, knowing how true those words were. Sometimes it seemed like half of the whole world needed to talk with Hermione over something or another about the wedding. She had so much to do that she'd lost about seven pounds in one week. Well, the celebrations were going to last three days after all, so it needed a lot of preparation. And Harry had had to move heaven and hell to ensure that she would get at least some rest in the last days before the wedding. Unfortunately for Ron, these would be spent at her parents' house and he wouldn't see here until the greeting of the guests in four days. Right now, however, Hermione was downstairs for a last fitting of her wedding dress before leaving for her parents'. It would be the last chance for them to see each other.

"Well, but you know, seeing the bride in her gown before the wedding means bad luck." Harry replied mock sternly and was met with a cheeky grin. "Yeah, I know but I'm not interested in seeing her in the dress anyway." They laughed and with a last wink at Harry, Ron made his way to the stairs with a slight spring to his step.

Yet again Harry was left alone in the small room. Soon the light hearted feeling that Ron had left with Harry diminished, overrun by guilt. He hadn't exactly lied to Ron, but he hadn't told him the truth either. He hadn't even told him the most important thing about his 'new boyfriend', as it was plainly obvious that Ron hadn't heard anything about the identity of his date – which actually wasn't even a date because there wasn't anything between them! Harry didn't have a date, he didn't have a new boyfriend and he didn't have a clue what to do now.

In a sudden streak of claustrophobia Harry stormed out of the room and through the corridor, past the stairs and further into the building. He emerged into the magical extended part. The stone walls were replaced by glass leaving a marvellous view out on the greenhouse Ginny could proudly call her own. It was what made her gardening shop the best in England. At the moment it also resembled a wedding shop as they kept almost every supply for the big few days here until they could be moved to the rented hotel in south Britain, the "Luton Hoo Paradise for Wizards and Witches with gold and spas, specialising in XXL wedding gatherings".

Harry didn't have an eye for the view. He was frantically trying to think of something to do, desperately hoping for any sign of something that could help or anything at all.

He went through a door and saw the green flames flaring in the chimney which then subsided again. It was one of the rooms with access to the flu network for incoming and outgoing orders. He stared at the chimney. Of course, who was he kidding? He knew exactly what he had to do now, who he had to call.

With this in mind, he kneeled in front of the flu and after checking that no one was there, he threw in the green powder and said the address. His heart was racing, everything felt so surreal and maybe that was the reason that he could go through with this.

The face appeared in the flames. "Why, hello Harry, how are you?"

Harry swallowed hard unable to say anything. He saw the corner of the mouth going upward and an eyebrow climbing up the forehead. "Well, you do have to tell me what you want from me, I can't read your mind," was said petulantly, smirk in place.

"I... need to contact him. I know you kept his card." The smirk melted into a broad grin. "Sure! You want his flu address or phone number?"

"Phone number", he replied quickly, without thinking.

What the hell was he doing?