He felt the numerous eyes on his, the whispers that had rang out through the hall when he entered for a delayed session.
There were but hours left before he officially tied his life to hers, and Harry was anxious to get the last bits of this meeting over with so he could put together the last things he needed.
A photo of them had been taken at the insistence of his aunt, the woman catching them in a tender moment before sending it off to a friend she had at the Prophet.
"Best to get these things over with, Herakles," she'd told him, brow arched as she browbeat him on the subject. "They will talk all they want, will speculate and gossip the moment they see her out and about with a ring on that finger. At least this way, we control the story."
She had been right, he could grudgingly admit, the papers writing a favourable report on their engagement. There had been talk from everyone, words of congratulation and scorn slipping throughout, but Harry had been glad those closest to him were happy for them. That Griselda had shouted in joy had been a surprise, the woman looking exceedingly pleased at being able to witness the development, "before I died of boredom and old age," she had cackled. Still now, he saw from the corner of his eye the looks she sent, interchanging between a smirk at him and a scowl for the Chief Warlock for keeping them here on Yule of all days.
Finally, the meeting was called to an end, everyone eagerly shuffling out of the room to return to their homes. He clapped Neville on the shoulder as he passed, having said temporary goodbyes to Ernie as he accepted the congratulations from his fellows.
He had seen a memory of Elia's first wedding, knowing the number of people that had been present for the occasion. They had decided against an over large wedding, limiting it to the people they were close to and the allies they had made at the Wizengamot. A larger number than he had wanted - though he had wanted to keep it at just their family and closest friends - but he was more excited for the last part, reserved only for the five of them.
With a slight crack, Harry reappeared in the foyer of Black Manor, the greetings of the portraits ringing in his ears as he made his way to the room upstairs. They were drunk on a high, the thought of an elemental who was a princess joining their line stoking the ambitions they held.
He entered his room, seeing his sons lounging on his bed.
"Where's your sister?"
"With Aunt Cissa," Teddy answered. "They're getting ready at Potter Hall, remember?"
The Potter portraits had kicked up a fuss, insisting Elia get ready at Potter Hall where they could take part. Harry had rolled his eyes at their fussing, even as Elia agreed with them, feeling more comfortable there.
"We got kicked out," Aegon told him, sitting up to look at him. "Is it time to get ready?"
"You boys start," he told them. "I expect you to be fully dressed, or almost there when I get out of the shower."
They scrambled from his room at those words, knowing that he wouldn't take too long this time. By the time he made it out, hair damp even as he tried to dry it with magic, Harry was slightly surprised to see them wearing most of their clothes.
Their ties were left undone, the material hanging around their necks as Teddy morphed his hair to mimic Elia's; thick Rhoynish curls that were as unruly as any Potter hair, his skin tanned to bronze, just a touch lighter than Rhaenys's. Aegon's silver-gold hair had been cut short, a handful of Sleakeazy's in hand as he attempted to curl it at the direction of the mirror.
"Come here Egg," he laughed, grabbing the gel and running his hand through the boy's fine hair. There were slight curls on his head now, keeping the hair from falling straight to his ears, and Harry wipes the gel off their hands before sending them out as he dressed.
The sky was beginning to darken as he finished buttoning his shirt, closing the silver clasp on his vest. He called the boys in, blinking in surprise as his aunt entered instead.
"Aunt Narcissa," he greeted, pressing a light kiss to her cheek as she came closer. She was wearing pale blue robes, a few shades lighter than the ones he wore, and there was a slightly off look on her face, more open than it usually was.
"I'm sorry she couldn't be here to see this," she said, hands reaching forward to tie his bow tie. Harry swallowed harshly, having thought the same thing earlier.
"As am I," he said softly.
"She would be proud of you. Prouder than I am, no doubt, considering that you were her son," she continued. Her grey eyes were soft, hands on his shoulder as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You've built a family for yourself, Herakles. One she would be happy to have seen, and a wife she would have adored. Take care of them, love them, and live the life Andy wanted you to live; that James and Lily and Sirius wanted you to live."
He pulled her into a tight hug, blinking back tears as he chuckled, "You're trying to make me cry on my wedding day."
"All thoughts of tears will leave you soon enough," she smirked, pulling back to look at him.
There was a light knock on the door, Aegon rushing in to greet Narcissa as Teddy came in after him, Scorpius holding onto his hand.
"Uncle Draco said the guests are coming soon," Teddy told them, letting Scorpius roam free in the room.
They had finished getting ready, and Harry put on the over robe as he took one final glance at the mirror, his eyes meeting his aunt's. "Time to get this show going," he muttered.
They were met downstairs by Draco and Neville, the two lightly chatting before Harry reached them, Scorpius clinging to his father.
"Well, at least you clean up nice," Draco said, eyes sweeping over his robes. "You're wearing your family colours."
"It's a Martell tradition," he fibbed, rolling his eyes at the snark.
"Not yet married and already wedding your traditions," Draco smirked, a flash of amused delight in his mercury eyes. "The cloaks are upstairs."
"Thank you," Harry said with slight relief. That particular task would have been difficult for him to complete, hiding it as he was, but Draco had gleefully claimed it was a gift for his uncultured cousin.
There was a flare of the floo, depositing the Marchbanks family, and Harry settled in to greet everyone. Draco left him, Neville heading outside to point out seats as he stood in the entryway, a son on either side of him.
It took half an hour for him to greet them all, stopping to chat quietly with McGonagall who had a handkerchief ready, before Aunt Narcissa left to get Elia and Astoria.
He felt a sharp tingle of anticipation run through him as he walked to the front, fairy lights hanging in the air amidst floating candles to illuminate the walk. There was light snow on the ground, though Harry had spent a week warding the area to keep it warm and cleared of snow, reserving the natural weather for the lake in the backdrop.
"Nervous?" Neville asked lowly, his friend stood beside him as Harry had done the year before.
"The slightest bit," he answered truthfully. He'd hoped to breeze through the ceremony on a high, and in spite of his joy Harry was too anxious to truly settle.
"How the tables have turned," Neville muttered, smirking in amusement before jerking his head to the entrance.
"Eyes forward young man," Griselda murmured. The woman had surprised him with the offer to officiate the wedding; he hadn't known she could do so, and she had scoffed and told him he was lucky she was doing it instead of some other Ministry official.
There was music playing, a soft tune he knew Elia had picked, but all thought of his surroundings left him when Astoria moved and she was standing at the end.
She walked alone, a small bouquet in hand. He did not hear anything, only the rushing sound of his heartbeat as she walked closer, certain he looked a fool and uncaring if he did.
The dress was not exactly white, an off white more likely that cut across her arms and bared her shoulders, with intricate beading throughout, the gems glinting softly in the light. She had done those herself for the most part, weaving a story into the dress to Madam Twilfitt's surprised consternation.
He had to take a breath as she came closer, Neville's light hiss bringing him to his senses before he was promptly lost once more when she took hold of his outstretched hand. Her hair had been curled and pinned to her head, neck bared but for the necklace she wore, and Harry flicked his eyes to see love-filled black orbs staring at him in slight amusement. He squeezed her hand lightly, feeling her swipe her thumb across his wrist, and Harry could not for the life of him focus on the words Griselda was saying.
It was only at the slight sound of shuffling behind him, Neville's hand placing the handfasting band in Griselda's that he tuned in. The band was a light blue with streaks of black and grey. Stitched in the silver of his house colours were small suns and spears, a joining of the two in every way. He felt her hold tighten, and Harry saw the tremulous smile on her face a they clasped arms, the band wrapping around them as her eyes lingered on the stitched Martell sigil.
Griselda led them through the vows, Harry repeating as she prompted him, hand sliding the ring on her finger as he vowed to love and cherish and protect the woman in front of him, no matter what they faced. He felt the tingle of magic as Elia said her vows, making his own private vow to follow her to the ends of the earth, or to Westeros if need be, as the partner she had chosen as she placed his band on his finger.
"...with this kiss, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may seal the bond."
Gently, he swept her into his arms and placed a kiss, feeling the heady rush of the magic and fighting to not give in and disappear with her right then.
"I love you," he murmured, feeling her smile against his lips as she replied in kind.
Griselda cleared her throat, and Harry took a step back, locking arms with her as they made their way inside the small garden, their children trailing after them.
The reception had been Elia and Narcissa's child, the two women plotting to use the walled garden of Black Manor for the occasion. There were more flowers than he knew what to do with, fountains of flowing water and round tables circling an empty space in the centre for them to dance to.
He just had to sit through Neville's speech.
The blond in question was smirking as he stood from his seat, making his way toward them as he prepared to tell the world his thoughts.
"You look worried," Elia said, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"I have no idea what the hell he might say."
Clearing his throat, Neville shot one last smirk at Harry before he said, "I'm sure some of you remember the first time you met Elia, and if you did not then you certainly tried to recall it when Harry here used his best man speech to make his move."
Groaning lightly, Harry muttered, "I was feeling inspired at the time."
"Naturally, I had to rib him for that the next time we saw each other," Neville continued once the laughter had died down. "Imagine my surprise at learning it worked, and the man was practically skipping as he met me. I tell you, I've never seen Harry radiate so much joy, and I was there when he realized he was in love. Of course, we probably all saw it coming the moment he started going out. It takes a special person to get someone to reconsider sitting in the Wizengamot once more, and I tell you now I called it when we first met."
He hadn't been that obvious, he knew, but Neville was smiling as if this was the end to a grand joke only he saw. He held Elia's hand in his, thumb moving in small circles as they listened to Neville speak.
"Harry, I've known you since you were eleven and scrawny. More than anything, I am happy to see you so happy, and happy to see that I was right about just who made you so happy. I wish you both a long life filled with love, and the continued prosperity of this family you've built together. To Lord and Lady Potter-Black!"
He stood to grab Neville in a loose hug as the audience echoed his cheer, stepping back as he placed a kiss to Elia's knuckle.
"This one might fight me if I kiss you on the cheek," he joked.
Harry sniffed at the chuckling pair before Neville left. He wrapped an arm around Elia's waist, ducking his head down to murmur, "I believe it's time for our first dance."
"Lead the way, husband," she whispered, eyes dark and knowing at the effect her words had on him.
Harry led her to the centre of the dance floor, bowing before he took hold of her hand, smiling at the slight surprise she showed.
"It's our wedding day," he told her. "I think it merits appropriate manners."
He forgot the people around them, imagining for a moment that they were dancing in the ballroom at Potter Hall at night, just the two of them while the children slept and they did not have any duties to tend to.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, twirling her before pulling her firmly against his chest, smiling at the look she sent him.
"Happy," she said, a soft smile on her face.
He heard the soft clearing of a throat, and looking down they were met with the twin stares of Teddy and Rhaenys.
"Our turn," Rhaenys said, tugging lightly on his hand as Teddy stepped forward to take hold of Elia's.
Laughing, Harry let her go, sketching an exaggerated bow to Rhaenys before he began to spin her around the room.
"You look happy, Dad," Rhae told him, purple eyes bright.
"I am," he said, grinning at the slightly smug smile she wore. "You were right."
"I know," she told him, grinning in delight.
He took her for another turn as Aegon danced with Elia before they swapped partners.
The night passed in that way, Harry chatting with his guests as his gaze wandered to his wife, a goofy smile on his face whenever it hit him that they were married.
"Right," Neville said, clapping his hands together as the guests began to leave. "I'm going to head out, lest I find out just why you wanted my talents when I've yet to see it used."
"No need to worry, Longbottom," Harry said with an eye roll. "Get your head out of the gutter."
Neville shrugged, moving forward to say goodbye to Elia and the children.
It took them some time to get rid of everyone, and Harry moved to cut in just as Elia was sending the kids to bed.
"Actually," he said, taking hold of her hand. "There's one more thing we need to do."
"One more thing?"
"A surprise," he said, smiling in anticipation.
She raised her brow, a curious look on her face even as he led her to the small gazebo off to the side.
It had been the reason he chose this Black property for the wedding; the gazebo was closed, stained glass acting as windows and reflecting off the dark marble flooring. The children had run ahead of them, and as they walked in he felt her still in surprise.
He had charmed the windows, turning the glass into reflections from the stained glass he'd seen in her memory of the Sept of Baelor. Teddy stood near them, the orange and red Martell cloak held in his hands as Aegon and Rhaenys stood near the front between the images of the Father and Mother, a cloak done in the colours of Houses Potter and Black with their combined crests on the bench next to them, the handfasting band held in Rhaenys's hands and a crown in Aegon's.
"Harry..." she trailed off, eyes brimming with tears.
He reached forward to cup her cheek as he whispered, "Don't cry."
"This is...it's..."
He swiped his thumb beneath her left eye, a teardrop on his finger. "I know we agreed to stay here, even if I'm working on the ritual so you can see your family. But you've given up so much, Elia, that I wanted to give you at least this. We might not be in Westeros, but we can have a bit of your home here today."
She kissed him, tears falling down her face as they clung to each other.
"I love you, you utterly infuriating, thoughtful man," she murmured.
"I'm glad," he said, "else I'd be a wreck at the moment."
She chuckled softly against his mouth, and Harry pulled back so he could wipe the tears from her face.
"Are we ready?" Teddy asked, eyes flitting between them.
Harry looked at his wife - his wife - and felt his heart burst with love and joy.
Elia kneeled slightly, letting Teddy place the cloak on her shoulders. Aegon hurried forward, a crown of ivy and fir in his hands, red tulips twisting throughout, and Harry made his way to Rhaenys as his sons busied themselves with their mother.
She held the handfasting band in hand, and as Elia made her way to the front, the crown of red flowers resting carefully on her head bringing to mind the image of the strong princess he had fallen in love with, Rhaenys nudged him. He took hold of the Martell cloak, removing it and handing over to Aegon, the little boy folding it carefully as Teddy gave him the Potter-Black cloak. He threw it across her shoulders, stealing a kiss even as he closed the silver-wrought sun clasp. Rhaenys cleared her throat, shooting him an irritated look as she wrapped the ribbon around their joined hands.
"Look upon each other and say the words," she told them, and Harry felt himself soar at the bright smile Elia sent him.
"Father, Smith, Warrior. Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger," they said together.
"I am hers," he said softly.
"And he is mine."
"From this day, until the end of my days," they finished.
"Let it be known that Elia and Harry are one heart, one flesh, and one soul," Rhaenys continued, surprising him. "Cursed be the one who seeks to tear them asunder."
Elia shot Rhaenys a slight look, the girl shrugging nonchalantly at her mother, before dark eyes pinned him with a look of love. "With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you as my lord and husband."
He'd had issues with the wording, until Aunt Dorea had nearly had a conniption explaining that they meant something different to the two of them, and Harry promised to always treat her as the partner she was, and not in the sense the words had originally been meant.
"With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife," he said, sweeping her into his arms as he kissed her, her hands on his shoulder in surprise. The cloak was soft, the material hanging over his arms before falling away where he held her leg.
"I think Aunt Narcissa is waiting for the three of you," he told the children.
They grumbled slightly, smiling and waving as they made their way to the hairbrush in the corner, the blue glow growing before the portkey took them.
He smiled at her, walking out of the gazebo with Elia in his arms.
"Where are you taking me?" She asked, head lying against his shoulder, the red flowers tickling his neck.
"That's a surprise," he told her, twisting with a small crack.
