Harry starred down at his written exam. Completely blanking out. Who cared if he knew how to tell the difference between a male and female flesh-eating slugs? Until now, he didn't even know there were males and females. Damn this multiple choice, he had better rock the practical, or he was doomed.

Across the room Draco was having a quite different problem, for some reason tests always turned him on. And since he and Harry hadn't had sex for some time, he was having trouble hiding himself, and even more trouble focusing on the genders of flesh eating slugs.

Dobby sat nervously at the edge of the sofa in Harry and Draco's living room, listening intently to every breath the baby took. No one had ever trusted him with something as big as a human life, even if it was an, well, it.

Harry sat between Ron and Hermione, Xaviere sitting contently on his lap. In a little bit, he would give the baby to Hermione, walk up to professor Dumbledore, get his diploma, walk back down, and take his baby. It seemed to him just yesterday he was boarding the Hogwarts express, wondering how his life would change, and here he was, seven years later, and with a beautiful baby, um, it.

'We have to figure out a better name for Xaviere's gender then, it.' Harry whispered to Hermione.

'Well,' Hermione thought, male and female both have male in them, and it seems to look more like a male, how about pseudomale?'

'The fake male?' Harry hissed,

'Sorry, how about neomale, new male?'

'That's better.'

Draco stood on the balcony of his suite with his sweet, holding his hand and gently kissing each knuckle. Harry smiled as the moon shone upon the man he loved, making his hair seem to shine, and his eyes sparkle with a greater luster then before.

Harry was winded as Draco slipped a gold band with a diamond on his left ring finger.

'No,' Harry said, and Draco was at a loss for words until Harry shoved him down on one knee, 'If you're going to do it, do it right.'

Draco cleared his throat and said in his most serious masculine proposal voice he could think of at the moment, kind of like James Bond meets Sherlock Holmes, 'Harry Elizabeth Potter, will you marry me?"

Meanwhile back in Norway, Jacques Tied himself to a flagpole as he saw renovators enter his apartment building.

Harry was running around London and Diagon Alley with Hermione and Ron. He was looking for his tuxedo, Draco's tuxedo, and the suits and dresses for the grooms people. Ron was going to be his best person, and Hermione would be the other groom's person.

'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' Harry bellowed after finishing another unsuccessful trip to another store, 'We've been everywhere in town that sells tuxes, but nothing is quite right.'

'We found loads of stuff in your size Harry,' Ron said, not quite understanding.

'It's not about the size Ronald,' Hermione sighed, 'Men!'

'What?' Ron asked, bewildered, 'What's it about then?'

'The marriage is a celebration of their love,' Hermione said, 'Harry can't show up in rags!'

'Why not?' Ron asked. 'After all, it's about the love, not the clothes.'

'It is about the love.' Hermione agreed, 'But Harry wants to be able to look back on his wedding as perfect.'

'I don't get how clothes are that important.'

'It's a symbol!'

'It's a, um, well it's a, gimme a second…'

Harry and Draco sat on their bed, locked together as if they were joined at the mouth. Draco started to remove his shirt and Harry pulled away.

'Draco, I think we should wait until our honeymoon.'

'But we've done it…' Draco tried to count the times in his head, but soon gave up, 'a lot, all ready.'

'Yes, but it will make it seem more special.'

'Fine,' Draco relented and started to put his shirt back on.

'Oh hell,' Harry grinned as he jumped on top of his fiancée.

'So,' Hermione said, sipping her coffee, and eying the simple gold band with a hauntingly beautiful diamond which caught the small amount of light entering the otherwise dark coffee house and shone rainbows across the walls, 'Where are you and Draco going on your honeymoon?'

'Well, we can't be gone to long, as we're leaving Xaviere with Dean and Seamus.'

'Are they living together?' Hermione perked up.

'Yeah, they just started a week ago.'

'Ooo, I can't wait till he finally proposes.'

'Which one?' Harry chuckled.

'You know,' Hermione thought, 'I really don't know. Anyway, you didn't answer my question, where are you two going?'

'Rome, we're staying in a beautiful hotel on the coast, so from on balcony we have a view of the Mediterranean1 Sea, and from the other balcony, all the old beautiful buildings and small cobble streets. Unfortunately, the small cobble streets will be packed with not so small nuts, the pope died, so it's conclave, and the two favourites are complete opposites.'

'So, a gay couple will be honeymooning in Rome among a heated political religious shindig the pits Catholics with slightly different views against each other?'

'Exactly, should be interesting.'

1 It is very hard to spell Mediterranean, what kind of person would I be without spell check?