Harry was nervous. It was Saturday morning and even though Blaise has tried to tell him that everything would go smoothly. That there was nothing to worry about. That it was just his family and Blaise was sure they would like him.

Harry couldn't help but worry about the impression he might make.

Which was how Ginny and Ron had ended up at his place at eight in the morning.

Ginny was currently upstairs rummaging through his wardrobes and Harry and Ron were sitting at his kitchen table. A pot of tea between them. Harry wished it was the Irish kind. Or that maybe Ron would slip him some Felix Felicis.

"So, it seems pretty serious between the two of you then," Ron said as he reached for a scone.

"Yeah, I think so," Harry replied.

"When're you bringing him to the Burrow?"

Harry's forehead hit the table, "Merlin, Ron, I don't know. I was kind of playing it all by ear. I hadn't even planned on today before Kingsley sprung it on me."

"Wait, Kingsley asked you to the family brunch?"

Harry nodded, his forehead rubbing against the timber.

"Huh."

Harry looked up and glared at his best friend.

"That's all you've got? 'Huh'?"

Ron shrugged, "Explains why you're all worked up, you don't even know if Blaise would have invited you to meet his family yet. If he's as serious about all this as you are."

Harry sat up once more and scowled into his tea. As usual, Ron was oddly insightful. Harry wasn't sure if Blaise himself would have issued the invitation, and it was playing havoc on his mind. Was Harry supposed to now ask Blaise if he wanted to meet the Weasley's and Andromeda? Harry's version of family? Or was this just a once off interrogation? Where did they go from here? The most experience Harry had with relationships was Ron and Hermione and they were highschool sweethearts, hardly typical.

Harry sighed before draining the rest of his tea and changing the subject.

"How's Hermione? She's not been well this week has she?"

Ron shifted in his seat and a sly grin started to spread across his features.

"What?" Harry asked him.

"Well," Ron said, "I'm not supposed to say anything, so you have to act surprised, but you're going to have three godkids soon."

Harry's eyes went wide and he started to grin, "Really?"

Ron smirked and nodded.

"Congrats, mate. That's excellent!"

"What's excellent?" asked Ginny as she walked into the kitchen with a set of clothes folded over her arm.

"Nothing!" Harry and Ron abruptly shouted.

Ginny raised an eyebrow at them in clear disbelief.

"Uh huh…" she hefted the clothes in her arms at Harry, "Anyway, here you go, these will work. But Circe's ballsack, Harry. You need new clothes."

Harry took the items from her as Ron berated his sister on her foul language, as well as the inaccuracies of it. In truth, Harry thought Ron was more upset about the inaccuracy than the swearing itself.

"Circe's a bird-"

"So what, Ron?"

"I'm going to go get changed," Harry said loudly to the room.

Shrugging as he went unheard, Harry left the two siblings to bicker in his kitchen whilst he pulled on the outfit Ginny had found for him. Light grey jeans, a white button up top with a charcoal cable knit sweater, he remembered Ginny giving him one Christmas. He quickly kicked aside his pyjama bottoms and pulled on the clothes. Looking in the mirror he had to admit he looked pretty decent. If you ignored his hair, but he always did anyway.

He rummaged in a top drawer for a bottle of cologne that had been a gift from Hermione and dabbed it on his neck. He pulled on a pair of black trainers, spelling them clean. He quickly adjusted his wand in his sleeve before he rattled down the stairs again.

Ron and Ginny were still bickering over the proper way to curse. Ginny was of the understanding that it didn't matter what you said as long as you meant it. Hermione had clearly started to rub off on Ron, he was too focused on the meaning of the insult.

Harry coughed to get their attention. When that didn't work he cleared his throat. They both stopped arguing and looked at him. He held his hands out to the sides in a 'what do you think gesture' and Ginny twirled her finger at him.

Harry rolled his eyes but dutifully spun on the spot.

"You'll do," Ginny grinned.

"Gee, thanks," Harry said dryly.

He looked over to Ron who gave him a combination of a nod and shrug.

"Oh! Here, I almost forgot."

Ginny came to stand in front of him and looped a checkered dark green scarf around his neck.

"No, Gin, I'll look like a twat,"

"He's right, Gin," Ron said.

"No, he'll look dashing and stylish," Ginny argued as she fixed the scarf to her liking, "which is the entire reason I'm here. Neither of you have even a lick of fashion sense."

Harry held up his hands in surrender as the floo flared to life. Blaise stepped through the floo and Ginny grabbed Ron by the elbow and dragged him out of the kitchen.

"That's our cue! Hi Zabini, Bye Zabini!

"Er… Goodbye?" Blaise waved confusedly.

The front door slammed and Ron's complaints of being manhandled were cut off leaving Harry and Blaise standing in silence.

Harry shuffled his feet nervously.

"You look good," Blaise said as he stepped closer.

"Erm- Thanks."

Blaise lifted a hand to run along one edge of Harry's scarf, "I like the scarf."

He twisted the ends sharply and used it to reel Harry into his embrace. Harry automatically tilted his head back and met Blaise's lips with warm enthusiasm. Maybe Ginny was right about scarves, if this was the outcome of wearing one.

"Hello," Blaise murmured against his lips as he pulled away.

"Hi," Harry replied breathily.

Clearing his throat, Harry straightened up.

"You ready to go then?" Blaise asked.

"Sure! If you want to. I mean, yes. If you are. Yes, let's go-"

Harry clamped his mouth shut to avoid babbling anymore and started to move towards the fireplace, but Blaise's hand caught his forearm before he could make a step.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Yes. Fine, thanks. You?"

One of Blaise's eyebrows arched upwards, "I'm well, thank you."

"Good, that's good. Shall we?"

Harry made to move again, but Blaise blocked his path again. Harry made the mistake of looking up at him.

"Would you like to try again?"

Harry sighed, "We're going to be late, Blaise."

"I would rather be late knowing everything was alright than on time and thinking something was wrong."

"Doyouwantmetocometobrunchwithyou?"

Blaise blinked a few times in fast succession.

"Sorry?"

Harry's faced reddened from his unintentional blurting. It felt like fourth year all over again.

"I said, do you want me to come to brunch with you?"

"Of course I do."

Harry looked off to the side. Wondering where all of this insecurity was coming from all of a sudden. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to pull his thoughts together.

"This isn't-" he lifted a hand lamely, "all too soon for you or anything? We haven't exactly been dating long."

Blaise's brow furrowed and his hand dropped from Harry's side.

"What are you saying exactly, Harry?"

Harry's eyes went wide behind his glasses as he realised what he must sound like.

"No! I'm not saying that! I- I'm just- shit- I'm so bad at this."

Blaise grabbed his hand and drew him over to the kitchen table. They sat down and Blaise squeezed his hand gently.

"Just tell me what you're thinking."

Harry scrubbed his hand through his hair again and blew out a breath.

"Kingsley asked me to your family lunch today."

Blaise nodded, waiting patiently for more information.

"Er- that's it." Harry clarified.

He watched as the Lumos came on in Blaise's mind.

"You're wondering if I would have invited you to brunch if my Uncle hadn't."

Harry scratched the back of his neck. "Well, yes, I mean, we haven't really- when you met Teddy it was as my friend. Really, you've only been introduced to Lucy. We haven't-"

Harry was cut-off this time by Blaise's mouth on his.

"Harry, I would really love it if you would come to brunch with me and meet my family. I'd really like them to meet the wizard that has entranced me so thoroughly."

Harry felt his neck grow warm, "Well, when you put it like that… how can a bloke say no?"

Blaise smirked and pulled Harry to his feet and into another kiss before waltzing them through the floo.

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Blaise ~*~*~*~*~

Brunch with Blaise's family had been a whirlwind and greetings, friendly jibes, much food and not a small amount of interrogation aimed at Harry.

He had managed to sate their curiosity about him and was now out on the patio embroiled in a conversation about Quodpot with Maria's American husband, Mason.

"I'm saying, man! You haven't lived until you've played Quodpot! There was this one time-"

Thankfully Blaise came to save him. Smoothly interrupting by exclaiming over the fact Harry hadn't yet seen the gardens. Mason was a nice bloke, but he reminded Harry of a mixture between Oliver Wood and Seamus Finnigan. And not in a way that made him comfortable, an over-zealous pyromaniac was a combination Harry thought was best taken in small doses.

"Thanks," Harry muttered when they were out of earshot.

Blaise laughed as he took Harry's hand and led him down a curving path and deeper into the gardens.

"Mason is a good fellow, and he is great at handling Maria. She's a bit high-maintenance," Blaise whispered conspiratorially.

Harry bit his lips in a smile. He had seen evidence of that over brunch. Maria had almost fallen into a pit of despair when their middle child, Ethan, had managed to upend the soup they were serving all over himself.

"-But if you get him started on Quodpot, or Morgana forbid, homebrew beer. You're done for."

"Good to know," Harry replied, "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Blaise's own smile grew and he paused in walking. He pulled Harry's hand up towards him so that Harry was forced to step closer and into his embrace.

"So there'll be a next time? My family didn't scare you away?"

Harry pretended to think for a moment. Hand on his chin.

"No, no, I don't think they did. Come to the Burrow with me tomorrow. You can have your own interrogation and we can compare notes."

Blaise chuckled and bent his head down towards him. Harry pressed up on the balls of his feet to reciprocate and they leisurely exchanged a slow and delicious kiss.

They were interrupted by a couple of childish exclaims of disgust.

"Eeew! Why are adults always kissing?" cried Isabella, Gabriella's eldest.

"Gross! Uncle Blaise! You were supposed to be the cool one!" declared Ethan.

"Yeah!" came the varied agreements from the other children who had apparently come down to see what they were doing.

Harry stifled a laugh and met Blaise's eyes to see how he was going to handle this.

Blaise sighed and bent down on one knee, looking all of the children in the eye.

"Well, you see, when two people are falling in love. They sometimes want to show the other person just how much."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Did Blaise just say… Did he mean?

"By kissing?" Maria's eldest -and by extension Blaise's eldest nephew- Carter asked, scrunching his nose and face.

"Yep," Blaise said, the word popping from his lips.

"Then I don't ever want to fall in love," declared Sebastian, with all the seriousness of a five-year-old.

The children all agreed before Luca explained why they were all down there looking for Blaise and Harry.

"Mum's got an an-anon-announce-ment! You has to come back up to the house now!"

Blaise straightened up, "Okay, you guys get a head start, Harry and I will race you. Second to last one back has to kiss the loser."

The kid's eyes all went wide and they scrambled to run back to the house. Almost knocking each other in their haste.

Blaise stood up chuckling to himself and turned to face Harry. Drawing up short when their eyes locked.

"Uh…"

Harry shuffled his feet, unsure as to what he should do now. Did he ignore what Blaise said? Did he address it? Did he run? Or throw Blaise to the ground in a heat of passion?

That last one might be unwise, he thought belatedly, remembering the company that had interrupted their earlier kiss. Remembering what their reactions had been to that. Remembering how good Blaise was with them. What he had said.

His thoughts were stuck in a circular loop. He was stuck. Frozen.

And then Blaise moved.

He stepped towards Harry. Slowly. Cautiously. As if he was unsure if he would be received favourably. Harry frowned.

"Harry."

Even the way Blaise was saying his name was different. He was standing in front of him now and Harry had to crane his neck back to look at him properly.

"That might have slipped out a bit sooner than I had intended."

Harry didn't reply. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? He cleared his throat reflexively.

"Oh. Right."

"I mean, we can pretend it didn't happen if you like," Blaise suggested tentatively, taking one of Harry's hands in his.

"Yeah. We could," agreed Harry.

Blaise flashed him a wan smile and made to lead them back to the house.

Harry stayed where he was, jerking Blaise to a halt when their arms became stretched between them.

Blaise looked back at him inquiringly.

"Or we don't."

Harry watched as Blaise's mouth began to quirk into a smile.

"Yeah?"

Harry smiled back and stepped forward, tilting his head and leaning up to bring himself level with Blaise. Placing his free hand on Blaise' shoulder to steady himself.

"Yeah."