"This is huge, Harry," Charlie pulled his head out of the cupboard under the stairs and grinned at his brothers fiancé. Harry returned the grin and shook his head, remembering another cupboard in Surrey. He'd been happy enough under the Dursley's stairs, the small space had seemed comforting to him.
"It's bigger than mine used to be," he agreed absently, missing the funny look on Charlie's face. The dragon breeder shut the door and straightened, looking at him seriously.
"Did you spend a lot of time in the cupboard under the stairs?" the question was asked lightly, the tone at odds with the expression on Charlie's face. Harry laughed and shrugged, not at all worried. The cupboard under the stairs had been his haven for ten years. As long as he was in that cupboard he was safe, and allowed to be himself.
"I only moved into Dudley's second bedroom the first summer I came back from Hogwarts. It wasn't as nice as the cupboard - it was full of broken toys I wasn't allowed to play with. Relax, Charlie, you're going to burst something if you keep doing that," Harry put a hand on the very tense shoulder, "It's ok. I'm not going to try and move in there or anything."
Charlie snarled and stormed towards the front door, slamming it behind him so loudly that Ron yelled in alarm and headed down the stairs at a run. The rest of the family had wanted to see the new house and Ron had suggested an excursion on Boxing Day. It would allow him and Harry to add the family to the Apparate-allowed spell, and his partner wanted to show off his new home as well.
"What happened?" Ron skidded to a halt beside Harry, who bit his lip and shook his head. He shouldn't have let his guard down like that. He sighed and ran a hand through messy hair. He'd just have to hope that Charlie would be able to keep this to himself. After the tension from Percy yesterday, the last thing Harry wanted was another row.
"Nothing, I said the wrong thing I guess," Harry smiled at his confused partner, "Don't worry about it."
"Pray, gentlemen, I have a question. Why is brother Charles outside screaming something about a decade?" Fred popped up from the kitchen, and Harry shook his head. So much for hoping for the best. He had to deal with this now, before Molly and Arthur got involved.
"I'll go talk to him," Harry offered, "Where is he?"
"Kicking snow drifts in the back yard," Fred replied and Harry headed down the stairs, Summoning his cloak from the laundry. The air outside was crisp and cool, with the promise of more snow in the dark clouds overhead. He followed the angry shouts and found Charlie kicking the snow around viciously.
"Charlie!" he shouted, but was ignored. The wind was starting to pick up a bit, and Charlie was shrieking 'ten years!' along with a very impressive array of profanity, some of which sounded like it was Romanian. Harry watched him for a moment, tried shouting to get his attention again and then lost patience, running forward to tackle Charlie into the snow drift he was about to start kicking.
They wrestled around together, Harry finally managing to squirm on top and hold the very angry man down. Charlie glared up at him and Harry almost let go. Some kind of instinct kicked in and he tightened his grip instead. You don't let go of dangerous things that might attack you - Hagrid had taught them that.
"They locked you in a cupboard!" Charlie protested and Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. The confused expression on Charlie's face was a welcome one - it meant that he would at least listen to Harry now. Harry had come to realise that the Weasley's tended to see his childhood as one long horror story, and regarded any evidence that he hadn't had the same things they had whilst growing up as further evidence of abuse. On the contrary, it was the unusual aspects of Harry's childhood that had been the safest for him. When the Dursley's treated him like everyone else, Harry had the most problems with them.
"Listen, as sick as this may sound, I actually liked that cupboard. It was safe and I didn't get punished because my property was out of place when I slept in it. That was all I knew until I got to Hogwarts, and it wasn't that bad," Harry leaned his weight into Charlie when he bucked indignantly, "Stop it, Charlie."
"You must have known it was wrong!" Charlie spluttered, "Surely…"
"Yes, I knew it was wrong. I knew that other kids had proper bedrooms with proper furniture. But Charlie, all my life Dudley has been the favourite one. He got the toys and the sweets and the surprises. I got the chores and the punishments. There were two ways to deal with it, and looking back I guess I figured that out when I was very little. I could become as big a bully as he outside of that house, or I could do my best to make sure that I never became him. I'm kind of proud of my choice."
Harry watched his soon to be brother-in-law think about this. That was the first time Harry had ever tried to explain to someone else why he acted the way he did. It was kind of freeing in a way. Charlie grinned up at him, and nodded.
"I get it," he told the man sitting on him, "I'm sorry I went mental. It's just…"
"Unfair," Harry crossed his eyes and Charlie laughed. Seeing that the temper that had been flushing Charlie's face had receded, Harry loosened his grip. Charlie rolled him over into the snow in a heartbeat, grabbing a handful of the cold stuff and ramming it down the front of Harry's jumper. When Harry yelled the well-muscled man let go and jumped back. Harry flung a handful at his almost brother, following it up with a pounce. He missed, but managed to get hold of an ankle, tipping Charlie onto his arse and nailing him with a handful of snow before eeling away and getting to his feet.
"Harry!" George called and Harry turned, getting a snowball in the face as a result. His glasses protected his eyes from the cold stuff, but he had to wipe the remnants off with a cold hand. The first snowflakes drifted down as he retaliated with another badly packed snowball. He ducked and rolled, avoiding the counter attack from Fred with the ease of a good memory. The school snow fights had given him plenty of time to work out how Fred and George operated. Charlie nailed him with another snowball though, and then Ron was at his back. Harry caught a glimpse of Ginny and Bill from the corner of his eyes, and grinned. Molly and Arthur were sneaking up behind them, armed with snowballs too.
Snow fights were much more fun when it was family. And this one had the added bonus of making Charlie forget his outrage.
0oo0oo0
"You're brave," Ron muttered into Harry's ear. His partner was half asleep, and made a small noise of inquiry. Being sprawled face down mostly on Ron with the small of his back rubbed soothingly tended to put Harry out like a light. The snow fight had only ended when the snowfall made it too dark to properly see each other. They'd all returned to the Burrow and had a late tea. Harry and Ron had retired for some quality time together not long after.
"No one ever tackles Charlie when he's in that bad of a mood," Ron wondered what had happened to make Charlie go off the deep end like that, but knew better than to ask. Charlie wasn't angry with Harry, and given that his partner wasn't telling Ron anything about their conversation, that meant that it had something to do with the Dursley's.
"The twins used to say that Charlie is so good with dragons because they're the only ones on the planet with a worse temper than him," Ron revealed this bit of family trivia with a light chuckle. Harry's breath stuttered lightly for a moment, as close to laughter as he could get when he was warm and sleepy like this.
There was a knock at the door, followed very closely by the twins. They hadn't bothered with a privacy spell, too tired to do anything other than sleep. Whoever woke up first tomorrow would slap a spell on the door and then wake the other in the preferred method of his choice.
Harry didn't even stir at the slight noise of their entry, too close to sleep to react to any minor disturbance. Ron glared at his brothers anyway, on principal. It wouldn't do for them to get the idea that they could just barge in whenever they liked - he wanted his family to be comfortable with him and his partner, but not to the point that they could just walk in on them when they were doing more intimate things.
"Hey, we just came to ask if you wanted to go in to Muggle London tomorrow," Fred raised his hands defensively, while George eyed Harry speculatively, "Ginny wants to go to the bookstores - you two have hooked her on Muggle fiction and we thought it would be a lark."
"What are you rubbing under there?" George asked suddenly, and then blushed, "Did I say that out loud?"
Ron laughed, and Harry made a small noise of protest at the jostling, settling with a sigh when Ron's fingers sped up for a moment. Fred was sniggering at his red-faced twin, and Ron rolled his eyes. He felt his partner take a deep breath and 'step back', leaving him without even moving as the Occlumency kicked in.
"His back, ok?" Ron managed to get his irritation across to them without raising his voice and waking the now sleeping Harry, "He's asleep now, so shut it. I'll ask him in the morning."
"What did he just do?" Fred was frowning now, "He seems… smaller."
"Occlumency. It's the defence that Snape was supposed to teach him against Voldemort. This way the Dark Lord can't get into Harry's head," Ron sighed. Even though he knew it was for Harry's protection as well as his own, it still hurt to feel his lovers presence diminish.
"I thought that mum said…" Fred broke off and Ron shook his head. There were no secrets in his family - or if there were, it took a lot of effort to keep them.
"He learned in the summer holidays before he… left the Dursley's," that was as much as Ron was willing to say and his brothers dropped the subject. They might not be the subtlest of people when dealing with the family, but they recognised taboo topics when they saw them.
Ron nodded goodnight to them and watched them leave, choosing to seal the door behind them and extinguish the candle with a well-placed spell. Whatever chance he'd had to find out why Charlie had gotten so riled up was gone now. It didn't matter, one of these days Harry would tell him all about it. Ron could wait until then.
0oo0oo0
The Weasley's in Muggle London were a sight to behold. As children of a Wizard who was openly fascinated with Muggles, they knew enough about the way Muggle transport worked to get around fairly easily. The twins spent most of the trip muttering together over the maps they had of London, and the Muggle clothes and behaviour fascinated Ginny and Ron.
Harry spent the trip looking out the window and thinking about the books he and Ron already had. It consisted mainly of fiction, with a few Muggle gardening and home renovation books. When they left school, he and Ron would be cooking for themselves - something that Harry was fairly accomplished at when using Muggle methods. He had Molly's home reference spell books for the Wizarding style of cooking, but was wondering if he could convert a Muggle cookbook into something that a Wizard could use. From their stint of camping, Harry knew that Ron's cooking skills were haphazard at best.
"Harry!" Ron shouted from the bottom of the stairs, and Harry scrambled out of his seat and down the stairs, waving an apology to the conductor as he leapt out, watching the old Routemaster bus lumber off again. It was cold, and Harry was glad of his leather riding jacket gloves and boots. He'd teamed them with jeans that had Ron drooling this morning, and promising him a very pleasurable afternoon. They were heading back to the house with their purchases, rather than cluttering Ron's already cluttered room.
"Sorry," Harry grinned at the four red heads, "Got lost in my thoughts."
"Scary place?" Fred teased and Harry nodded, rolling his eyes. George snorted and Ginny just shook her head, turning towards the nearest bookstore.
"Come on it's freezing!" she ordered and Ron added weight to the command by grabbing Harry's elbow and dragging him forward. Harry had a wistful vision of the future - he and Ron both grey haired and Ron dragging him toward a bookstore eagerly.
"Which way to the mysteries?" Ginny asked Harry, and he pointed to the right sign, slipping away to browse through the cookbooks carefully. He found several that had a wide range of recipes that he would be able to adjust for the use of magic, and tucked the stack under his arm. He and Ron had brought their bank cards with them today to save them having to worry about getting Muggle notes from Gringotts. Ron still had a few book vouchers left from his birthday as well, and when Harry found him he was hip deep in murder and mayhem.
"Find anything interesting?" Harry breathed in his ear and smothered a smile when Ron closed his eyes and leaned back into him. Ears were a weak point for Ron. He leaned into the slender body in front of him, sending warm puffs of air around the rim of Ron's ear, ignoring the Muggles around him for a moment.
"A few books you'll like," Ron swallowed hard, "You?"
"Yeah," Harry sighed, "A few."
Ron shivered and Harry chuckled lightly, dropping a kiss on the ear in question before pulling slowly away, giving Ron time to find his feet again. His lover picked up the books he was interested in and they went looking for Ginny, who was giggling over an Egyptology book in the history section, and the twins who were snorting over the fantasy books.
Three bookstores later they had run out of book vouchers and the will to shop. Harry directed them to Camden Town for their dinner, though the twins kept getting distracted and darting off to look at whatever had caught their eye. Harry bought Ginny a pointy knitted cap that had three bobbles hanging from it on very long strings. The cap was a swirl of rainbow colours, but it did the trick, warming her up a bit in the frigid outdoor air. Despite the cold weather the Muggles were out in throngs. Ron and Harry shared a cone of hot chestnuts as they wandered the markets, then bought a wide selection of foods for dinner. Pockets empty, but bags full, they got back on the tube and headed for Charring Cross, and from there to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Right, we'll see you for tea," Ron told the twins and Ginny before hustling Harry out into the courtyard and Apparating to Potters Field. Harry dumped his bags of books in the library, propping them against one of the bookshelves and moved to take Ron back in his arms, his chest pressed to Ron's back, his groin rubbing over Ron's arse.
"Now, where were we?" Harry purred into the nearest ear and smiled when Ron moaned.
0oo0oo0
"Good morning Master Wheezy!" Dobby's piping voice spoke up from the kitchen and Ron blinked the sleep out of his eyes, smiling at the house elf who was cooking up a storm in the kitchen while his mother relaxed at the table with a morning cup of tea. By her own choice, Molly was the main cook in the house, though she ensured that her children were proficient in the kitchen and did their share of the rest of the household tasks. She didn't believe in raising children who were unable to keep a house comfortably once they left home. Having Dobby take over the food preparation chores and some of the wedding preparations today would ensure that she had more than enough time to enjoy the actual wedding in two days time. The fact that her son and son-in-law wanted to ease the burden of preparation had made her happy too.
"Good morning, Dobby," Ron wandered into the kitchen and was shooed out by the elf, sitting next to his mum and pouring a cup of his own, "Thanks, Dobby, that looks great. How were your holidays?"
Dobby beamed at him, glancing up the stairs for a moment and then answering Ron's question. The elf was looking for Harry, no doubt. Ron had left his partner in the bathroom, trying to undo the lurid change of colour his hair had undergone rather unexpectedly. When Harry caught up with the twins he was going to hurt them. A lot. Ron was just grateful that he had been second in the shower this morning, and not in there washing Harry's hair for him. He'd not only avoided an alarming colour change himself, he'd also avoided being blamed for Harry's. He hadn't been able to repress a small bark of laughter - earning himself a dirty look - and had left Harry to wash the colour out.
"Dobby was very grateful for his gift, Master Wheezy," the elf drew Ron out of his musings, "Master Wheezy's socks and mittens are very warm."
He and Harry had gone in together on the elf's gift, getting a set of socks, mittens, scarf and cap for the elf, knitted out of Yeti hair. Molly glanced up at the stairs as well, and then turned to raise her eyebrows at Ron. His mother was no fool, and though the elf was happy to see Master Wheezy, it was Master Harry it really wanted thank.
"Harry's still in the bathroom," Ron told his mother, "The twins hit him with one of their little jokes before they went to work this morning. I'm sure he'll be down soon."
He'd no sooner finished his sentence than Harry made his displeasure known to the entire household.
"Ron!" the aggravated roar heralded the stomping footsteps of one very irate Master Harry, "I can't get it to come out!"
Ron stood up, going to meet his frustrated lover at the bottom of the stairs and very carefully not smiling, giggling or in any other way indicating amusement of any sort. Molly stifled a noise and Dobby shrieked in horror. Harry was quite a sight, with his faded jeans, loose jumper, angry red face and…
"Master Harry! You hair is purple!" the elf hopped on one foot in agitation, "You hair is all purple!"
"When I get a hold of those two," Harry growled, "I'll turn them purple! With my fists!"
"Now Harry dear, lets not panic," Molly came forward with her best motherly air, ushering him to a seat and stroking his purple hair soothingly. Ron sat beside him, putting an arm around his upset lover, squeezing gently. It hadn't been purple when he left the bathroom and a small part of Ron was wondering how the twins had managed it.
"It's ok, mate, we'll sort it," Ron crooned in Harry's ear. His miserable partner hid his face in Ron's neck, his glasses on the table as Molly examined his hair carefully, her wand in one hand. Ron was rapidly revising his first opinion of the twins little joke.
"I can't get married with purple hair," Harry moaned and Ron shushed gently, rubbing his palm over Harry's hip. Any amusement he'd felt at first had drained away in the face of Harry's upset. Dobby had returned to the kitchen to make Harry's breakfast, and Ron heard Ginny stomping down the stairs.
"Harry, do you have to shout when I'm trying… bloody hell! What happened to your hair?" she gasped and then laughed, "It's purple!"
"Thanks Ginny, I hadn't noticed," Harry snapped, sitting up and fixing her with a deadly glare. Her laughter trailed off and she tightened the sash on her robe, moving to take a seat at the other end of the table. Ron patted him on the hip and watched his mother try a spell carefully on a patch of hair at the back of Harry's head. It went bright green, which then spread in uneven patches. His mother blanched and shot him a horrified look. Ron thought quickly. If Harry's hair couldn't be fixed back to its proper colour he'd probably call the whole thing off.
"Maybe hair dye?" Ron suggested quietly, "Or maybe we should call the twins and ask for the antidote, or whatever."
Molly whirled and headed for the fireplace, throwing in a pinch of Floo powder. Ron couldn't believe he hadn't done this himself when Harry had first realised his hair had changed colour. Mentally slapping his forehead, he rocked Harry a little, kissing his temple and holding him close.
"George Weasley!" she shouted, and George's head appeared in the fire promptly, making Ron suspect that the twins had been expecting the call. Molly didn't bother saying anything; she just reached in, grabbed George by the ear and pulled. George yelled and scrambled about, emerging on his knees in the kitchen with a hand around his mother's wrist.
"What did you do?" Molly let him go and gestured angrily at Harry's purple and green hair. George gaped at it, and shuffled his feet. Ron had a sinking feeling in his stomach. That was not the face of a successful prankster.
"It was supposed to wash out," he defended himself, "Harry, did you try to wash it out?"
"With what? Water made no dent in it and you'd doctored the shampoo. It went bright blue at first and then this when I tried the soap!" Harry's voice was level and very cold. George gulped.
"It wasn't supposed to change colour from the blue, let alone green and purple!" he explained, and Harry shrieked, jumping up to look myopically in the snickering kitchen mirror.
"When did it go green?" he whirled, wide eyed to stare at Molly with a hurt look on his face, "What happened?"
"I tried a reversal charm," she said softly, "I'm so sorry, dear."
Harry bit his lip and Ron got up, going to hug him close, kissing the multi coloured hair and glaring at his brother. Harry was shaking in his arms, a sure sign that he was seriously upset. That made Ron mad, and he didn't bother to disguise what he was thinking about the twins right now, letting George see the full force of his anger.
"Sort it," Ron said quietly, "Or we'll have to delay the wedding for your funeral."
"Uh, right," George gulped when he realised that everyone in the kitchen was glaring at him angrily, "I'll have to talk to Fred. I'll get back to you."
"Soon," his mother drummed her fingers on her wand, and George nodded vehemently, Disapparating suddenly. Harry sighed and peeled himself away from Ron. He accepted the plate of hot food from Dobby and sat down, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Don't worry, mate. If the worst comes to the worst we can try dying it black again, right mum?" Ron looked to his mother for support. She nodded and hugged Harry gently. He sighed again and hugged her back. Ron was relieved that he didn't hold a grudge against her failed attempts to help.
In a few years time they'd probably look back at this and laugh. Until then Ron would have to hope that Harry wouldn't cancel the wedding and go hide out in Potters Field until whatever this was wore off.
0oo0oo0
Harry sighed as he looked out at the newly marquee-filled back garden. Dobby was still out there, fussing with the last bits of garland and checking that everything was ready. The garden looked a little cramped with the two marquees in place, but Ron had a lot of family, and Neville was bringing his grandmother, and Hermione was bringing her parents. It was nice of the Grangers to come, especially as most Muggles frowned on gay relationships. The teachers that they had invited would be dropping in early tomorrow, and Professor McGonagall had threatened to test them on their knowledge of the upcoming ceremony. Tomorrow they'd cast the charm that would form a dome over the garden and keep it warm for their guests during and after the ceremony. Professor Flitwick had found that particular spell for them, as a sort of wedding gift.
"That's a big sigh," Ron's arms snuck around Harry's waist and a familiar body pressed itself to his back, spooning close to share warmth. Harry leaned into the weight and turned his head to press his temple to Ron's.
"Just… I keep waiting for someone to tell me that it's time to wake up. That the past two years were all a dream and I don't… don't get to keep you," Harry explained softly, and Ron hummed wordlessly, a comforting sound Harry didn't usually hear out of bed. He shivered and reached up to touch his hair.
"Is it still black?" he felt Ron stifle a snicker and put his hand back over his partners, "Ok, ok, so I'm paranoid."
"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you," Ron murmured, "And yes, it's still black. Mum says that the dye will last until the potion the twins used wears off."
Fred and George hadn't counted on the ingredients of the shampoo reacting with the ingredients of their potion when mixed with extra water. Harry's hair had resisted all antidotes and removal spells, going through some truly spectacular colour patterns and combinations, until Molly had given up and helped him to just dye it black. The twins hadn't returned home since that little episode, evidently counting on the fact that Molly would be too happy on the day of the wedding to kill them.
"Am I vain?" Harry wondered, "I mean, the whole hair thing has me dashing to the mirror every three minutes to check that I still look like me…"
"You are the least vain person I know," Ron's assurance warmed Harry for a moment, then he wriggled around so they could hold each other properly. He hid his face and took a deep lungful of Ron's warm scent, letting it soothe him.
"I know I'm not the worlds most handsome man," he mumbled to Ron's shoulder, "But you shouldn't have to marry someone who looks worse of a freak than usual."
"Worse?" Ron stiffened in Harry's arms and not in a good way. Harry protested wordlessly when Ron pulled away, his hands framing Harry's face. His partner stared him in the eye, seeming to search for something that Harry couldn't even begin to name. Whatever he was looking for made him growl and shake his head when he failed to find it.
"Mum!" Ron's raised voice carried easily to the front room where Molly and Ginny were playing cards; "Harry and I are going to Potters Field for a few hours."
"What?" Harry whispered, and Ron gave him a look that clearly said 'shut up and get going'. Ron took his hands away and Apparated before his mother could protest. Harry sighed and followed his partner obediently, Disapparating in the front hall. He could hear someone rummaging in the laundry, Ron's movements a little muffled by the slight distance. Before he could get to the top of the stairs there was a shout of triumph and Ron appeared with their sleeping bags and mattresses.
"Come on," Ron ordered, jogging up the stairs to the room that was going to be theirs. Harry watched his partner roll out the mattresses and bags, and then folded his arms when Ron reached for him. Ron tsked under his breath and removed Harry's glasses instead. It was cool in the house, and Harry had no intention of getting naked without some idea of what Ron wanted, apart from sex, obviously.
"Harry," Ron tapped his folded arms, "Come on, this is important."
"Sex is important?" Harry unfolded his arms reluctantly. Ron shook his head and stepped back.
"That reminds me, I'll be right back. Get undressed and get into the bags. I've got a heating charm on them, so don't let it go to waste," Ron Apparated and Harry blinked in surprise. How did talking about his hair lead to sex? He shrugged, a little turned on by the masterful Ron. He folded his robes neatly and slid into the warm bags, snuggling down into them so that his head was completely covered. He had his wand in one hand, just in case, indulging in his paranoia for a moment. He knew that he worried over things that Ron took for granted, but when he wasn't worrying, Ron was. They balanced each other so well in that way that Harry felt secure about their future.
The sniggers that followed the sound of someone Disapparating reassured him that it was indeed Ron and not a Death Eater come to take their revenge. There was a lot of rustling sounds outside, and Harry felt himself harden a little in response to the mental picture of Ron getting undressed for him. His mind played back a dozen snapshots of Ron's lightly muscled yet trim body, pale skin with its light dusting of freckles and the wiry ginger hairs that dusted his partners body. Ron slid in next to him and pulled the bag over their heads again, lighting the tip of his and Harry's wand. Their jar was clutched in his hand, and he tucked it away for a moment, reaching to pull Harry back into his arms. Harry went willingly, and snuggled into his favourite position.
"Now, where were we?" Ron murmured, his hands stealing up to frame Harry's face, "Oh yes, you were spouting guff about not being handsome."
Harry spluttered incoherently and Ron shut him up with a kiss. Harry wriggled and tried to protest, but that was hard to do with Ron's tongue down his throat and his fingers rubbing Harry's scalp lightly. Harry moaned eagerly, then tried to pull away, confused and turned on at the same time. Ron let him break the kiss, but moved to lay a single finger over his lips.
"I know, I know," Ron whispered, "You think that the scar is so ugly that no one would ever be able to see beyond it. Even me, Harry, I know that I asked you about it the first time we met. But after a few days I didn't see it at all unless it was hurting you. The hair is dead sexy, even if it is untameable, and I know that you hate that. I love it though, because I can play with it, rub it when we kiss, hide in it at night. You're skinny, but you've got muscles from Quidditch training and all the physical work you do at school. Your body isn't as hairy as mine, but that's ok, and I love the little path from your belly to your prick. Mostly though, you're so appealing because you don't act like it. You're not vain or pretentious like some of the guys we know."
"Ron," Harry shook his head, and Ron simply grinned at him. Harry's mind was whirling. If that was what Ron saw when he looked at him, then it wasn't so bad. Harry never thought that Ron might love the way he looked just as much as he loved the way Harry thought. He was slowly coming to believe that Ron's love was unconditional, and perhaps even eternal.
"Let me show you," Ron whispered and took Harry's mouth again. Warm suction and tender licks soon had Harry sighing in delight. Ron's talented mouth and hands were roaming all over him, making him moan and whimper in pleasure. He opened to his lover easily and Ron glided smoothly inside, sensation sparking through them both, their hands and voices joined as they spoke their ecstasy.
0oo0oo0
Ron grinned across the marquee at his husband, their wedding band heavy on his ring finger. His mother had outdone herself; Harry's robes were stunning. Like Ron he wore a matching mixture of blue, but in reverse. His outer robe was dark blue, the inner robe pale, and shot through with gold threads. Harry was talking to Mr and Mrs Granger, perched comfortably on a chair beside them, his ring glittering in the light. All the married Weasley's and their partners wore their wedding robes as per the family tradition, and the rings that they wore on their fingers seemed to really stand out to the newly weds eyes.
Looking down at his own ring, Ron couldn't help a sigh of sheer joy. The white and yellow gold strands wove in and out seamlessly, his and Harry's name combined in a script that they had designed. Through the band, Ron could feel a faintly warm pulse, reflecting Harry's, a part of the protection and locator charms laid upon the ring. He looked up as Hermione came to stand beside him, watching Harry and her parents for a moment before turning to pick up Ron's hand and examining the ring.
"It's beautiful," she murmured, and Ron smiled at her, too happy to care about the sappy feelings shining in her eyes. Girls always got emotional at weddings, Ginny and his mother had both spent the ceremony sniffling, and Hermione had only tucked away her hanky when Arthur had presented his son and son-in-law to the assembled crowd.
"We'll make yours when you marry," he promised impulsively and Hermione promptly hugged him hard enough to make him squeak. He hugged her back and patted her shoulder awkwardly, looking for something to change the subject. His eyes wandered over to Harry and he smiled in relief. Mr and Mrs Granger were both wearing Muggle made formal clothes - Mr Granger in a dark suit and Mrs Granger in a nice frock. Over these they wore dark green Wizard robes, cut simply and obviously chosen to compliment the colours they were already wearing. Hermione was in her dress robes, and looked as stunning as ever.
"I like your parents robes, Hermione," he complimented her, and she drew back, glancing over at them, "They look really smart."
"Mum said that if they were going to be attending a Wizard function they should look the part," she shrugged a little and smiled when Harry made her father laugh. Neville's grandmother had joined them and was talking easily with her mother. Everyone knew that they were Muggles, and so far everyone had been very careful to include her parents in the conversation and celebrations. Ron was oddly proud of his family's good manners.
"Whose idea was it to just get the outer robes? Their Muggle clothes work well with them," Ron wasn't into clothing at all, and rarely thought about what he wore, but it was keeping the rampaging sentiment at bay, so he'd muddle through.
"That was mine," Hermione admitted, "I didn't want them to be uncomfortable, and besides I knew that you and Harry wouldn't mind if they came in normal stuff."
"You saying I'm dressed abnormally?" Ron growled lightly and snagged a drink from a floating tray as it passed. A quick sniff proved it was just water and he sipped it gratefully. He had no intention of getting smashed at his reception - apart from the hangover and the possibly embarrassing morning after, he had no wish to set his mother on her wrong side. He'd have a drink with the feast, and the rest would be moderation. Before Hermione could do more than roll her eyes at him and shake her head, Neville struggled over to them, moving like someone had partially hit him with the leg-locker curse.
"Hey, Neville," Ron greeted his Housemate with a smile, "I see you've met my cousin Minerva."
Cousin Minerva was hanging onto Neville's robes and giggling madly, her bright green hair matching her robes. She was only five, but already had shown a talent as a metamorphmagus. She was related distantly to Nymphadora Tonks, though, the Auror with the same talent who had come to get Harry from the Dursley's in his fifth year, so it wasn't too much of a surprise. Minerva giggled up at Ron, then let go of Neville, raising her arms imploringly.
"Up, Ronny!" she begged and Ron picked her up obligingly, perching her awkwardly on a hip and grimacing as she giggled in his ear. It was better to pick her up when she asked then have her turn from giggles to whines and later squeals.
"Nice party," Neville glanced around, spotting his Gran and smiling at Harry. The dark haired boy smiled back and waved, turning to answer a question from Mrs Longbottom and Mrs Granger.
"Thanks," Ron replied, "Look, we've been meaning to ask you both a favour. We want to get that garden you planned for us planted at Easter, Nev, and Harry and I were hoping you and Hermy would spend the hols with us. You're the expert after all, and Ginny will probably come along too, Hermy, so you won't be the only girl."
"Me too?" Minerva piped up and Ron hitched her up a bit, trying not to drop her. She grabbed a hold of the collar of his robes and almost choked him. He wasn't that adept at carrying children, especially one as wriggly as Minerva. Hermione was smirking at him and he crossed his eyes at her.
"We'll see," he promised and gagged as she wriggled vehemently. He put her down and watched her run off to find her parents. He glanced around to check that Harry was out of earshot, and grinned wickedly. What was the point of being married if you couldn't share a little gossip about your spouse? Besides, Neville and Hermione were safe. They'd laugh, and maybe make a small teasing comment to Harry and that would be the end of it.
"You know, Harry's hair is that very same colour," he confided, "The twins stuffed up a trick potion and by the time we ran out of ideas he was bright green. Mum had to help him dye it black for today."
"And they're still alive?" Neville sounded incredulous, while Hermione sniggered helplessly, "Although I did think they were a bit quieter than usual."
"Yeah, they're still alive. Harry is even speaking to them. Mum's not too happy though," Ron confided, "She's got them on clean-up duty."
"Did I see Dobby around here?" Hermione changed the subject, thinking that Harry wouldn't be too impressed that his misfortunes were being spread around the guests. Ron nodded. The elf had been up since the crack of dawn, making sure that everything that could possibly be done had been.
"He's a guest," he confirmed, "Not that you'd know it. He's everywhere at once, trying to make sure it's just right for his Master Harry."
"Have you tried to dissuade him at all?" Hermione fixed him with what he privately called her McGonagall look, and Ron sighed. He didn't want to get into an argument about elf rights at his wedding, but if that was what she wanted…
"Hermione, he said it was his gift to us. How could we turn him down?" Ron shook his head, "You have to accept that on the whole, most House Elves are happy where they are."
"Dobby was happy with the Malfoy's?" Hermione snapped, and Ron jumped when Harry's voice spoke over his shoulder. He hadn't heard the sneaky bastard come up behind him, and made a mental note to say something at a later date. Or maybe he'd just punish Harry with some wicked shagging. It was a tough job, and Ron was more than up for it.
"No, he wasn't, that's why I freed him. He is happy serving Professor Dumbledore, though. To free him from that would be cruel."
Hermione pursed her lips and said nothing. Ron was grateful for her restraint, and turned to peck Harry on the lips. Harry put a hand lightly on Ron's arm and smiled at him, the happiness he felt radiating from his eyes. He was truly breathtaking, and Ron felt himself stir at the sight.
"The romance is gone already," Neville spluttered with laughter, and Ron cast a dirty look over his shoulder before taking Harry into his arms properly and taking his partner's mouth in a soul deep kiss. Harry pressed against him eagerly, returning the kiss and then some, breaking away only when the cheers and whistles made it through the sensual haze they were creating.
0oo0oo0
"I thought they'd never go," Harry panted, his back pressed against the large oak at the bottom of the garden, Ron pressed against his front. The redhead was currently seeking entry into his robes, and Harry was helping as enthusiastically as he knew how. The bite of the cold air around them was a sharp contrast to the heat they were generating, and Harry's fingers were nimbly sending naughty messages along any part of Ron he could reach. They needed to be quiet if they didn't want to draw attention to themselves, and Harry knew that would be a challenge. Neither of them was silent during sex.
"Shut up and help me get this undone," Ron growled, "I want inside you in the worst way."
Harry felt his heavy prick leap at those words and moaned helplessly, undoing his outer robe and letting it drop to the snow. He turned and braced his hands against the tree, letting Ron pull his robes up, hissing as the cold air bit at his heated flesh. He felt his briefs being tugged down and cool slick fingers probed his arse, sending sparks of pure sensation straight to his aching prick. They were family now, no one could take that away from them.
"Do it," he gasped, "Ron, now!"
Ron's heated body blanketed him, and Harry locked his arms, pushing back against the snub object he could feel between his arse cheeks. Slick heated pressure, a long stretch, and Ron was in, both of them moaning in satisfaction. Ron's fingers flexed against Harry's hips, sending tender words of love and promises of forever along his skin, while he panted heavily in Harry's ear, pressing closer and closer until the world narrowed down to the sensations rolling through his belly.
Harry keened and wriggled against the pressure, trying to get Ron to move. Ron grunted and his hips jerked, the sensation overwhelming, the need to move overpowering everything else. They panted and strained, matching each other flawlessly, lost in pleasure and the sheer act of mating. Harry's prick was trapped in a fold of his robes, their movement stimulating him relentlessly. He could feel the final pangs of his orgasm approaching and sped his movements eagerly. Ron groaned achingly, adjusting his grip so he could move faster and deeper than before.
"Ron!" Harry cried his spouse's name softly, his prick jerking and gushing its load all over the inside of his robes. He felt his partner shudder hard along his back and locked his knees as Ron's release filled him to the brim three times over. Warmth spread throughout his belly and Harry panted desperately, almost coming again, though he was empty and wrung out.
Ron's weight was pressing him into the tree, and Harry was grateful for its support. His partner was a warm and comforting presence along his back as they struggled to regain control of their breathing and their limbs. When he could breathe almost normally, Harry stirred, sighing as Ron's prick left him.
"We need to clean up," he said reluctantly, "Your mother will kill us if we hand her our robes like this."
Ron chuckled and Harry leaned into their bond, feeling the sweat and stickiness disappear from his skin, and the wet stains from his robe. They adjusted their clothing so they were once more decently dressed, and Harry put his outer robes back on. Ron hit them with a cleansing spell too, and then dried them with a quick blast of hot air.
The house was still dark as they walked back up to the kitchen door. Harry couldn't say why they hadn't chosen to consummate the marriage in Ron's old room, he just knew that they had both been drawn outside to the tree where Arthur Weasley had joined their lives forever in front of friends and family. Harry paused as they entered the kitchen and kissed Ron lightly on the lips.
"Let's grab some supplies and stick a do not disturb sign on the door," he suggested, "I'm not done with you, and we go back to school in a few days time."
"Good plan," Ron grinned, "Lead on."
0oo0oo0