Clenching his hands tightly around the clasp of his robes, Draco adjusted every little thing on his wedding robes.
It just had to be perfect, he had to make sure the only thing Harry could keep his eyes on was him.
At that thought, Draco near slams his own head on the mirror in front of him.
'Merlin, I'm being ridiculous,' groaned Draco mentally, his long hair slipping from his shoulder, 'Goddamnit, Malfoy. He'll look at you, he— he'll always look at you...', trailing off, he fails to keep a gentle smile from slipping.
He bites on his lips, the blonde looked at the mirror, seeing the soft grin on his face.
Draco was pretty sure Harry didn't know that the Malfoy heir notices the way the Potter Lord eyes him when he thinks Draco wasn't looking.
With a fond sigh, he places his right hand on the glass, his ring shimmering at the ray of sun seeping from the window behind the blonde.
He stands there, for how long, Draco can't clarify.
Then someone knocks and Fleur's voice calls, "Draco?" She opens the door, "It'z time to go."
Draco gives Fleur a small smile. Well, what he hoped was a small one, he doesn't want to look nuts.
Whether his smile looked strange or not, the french-woman stays silent, merely smiling back at him.
Harry lets Molly take his arm and lead him to the altar, the music, a melody of violins and a piano plays as he steps towards the platform. While his hair had simply been tied to a neat bun, there was quite some fussing with his robes—courtesy of Pansy and Fleur— after he forgot how to properly put the cloak on, despite the many times Hermione drilled it into his head.
They finished in time before he was called to walk down the aisle, before— before Draco did.
His breath hitched quietly, this is it. This is it.
'Oh my gods, I'm getting married'
Harry was told that it usually sinks in inside the dressing room, but of course, of course, it occurs when he was so close to where he'll say his vows to Draco, and Draco to him.
Everyone had stood, all a familiar and dear face. The wedding they planned was small, only those held close were, in Draco's words, blessed to witness their bonding.
Molly squeezed his arm.
In his distracted state, he didn't notice that they were already in front of the altar.
Harry smiled apologetically at his first mother figure.
Molly beamed at him, tears in her eyes, "Go on, dear." She pats his cheek softly before slipping away and standing between Arthur and the space where Narcissa sits.
Harry smiles after her and steps onto the little platform, nodding to Kingsley. He stands there, at both his sides were Hermione, Ron, Pansy, Blaise and Luna. While Harry and Draco had planned the marriage, they agreed that they would each get both a maid of honour and best man. In the middle of it, the two had both wanted Luna to be one of their maids of honour, they just decided on having three.
The music starts, again.
Harry was so close to marrying his fierce Dragon. His patient, loving Draco, who learned to cook just for him. His Draco, who showed Harry his hidden love for drawing and nature. His sharp-tongued, stubborn Draco, who looked at him like he was just— just Harry. Draco, who fought together with him, to let everyone know this, they were worth it.
He was so close to marrying the man who grew from being the infuriating git to his infuriating git.
Trying to control his breathing, he faces the archway where he himself had just been under. And there, Draco now stood, grey eyes staring at him with something akin to awe. As if the man himself was amazed by their predicament.
Harry could empathize.
Harry inhales sharply, his shoulders raising before visibly relaxing. He smiles at Draco, whose gaze had yet to leave his while he walked towards him with Narcissa on his arm. Harry wasn't exactly planning to look away either.
They were getting married.
Draco was getting married to this kind, warm, head-strong man who he knew wouldn't be letting go of him anytime soon. His Harry, the Harry that forgave him and stood by him. His Harry, who proposed to him, sleepy and under their blankets while the man was bed-ridden from a fever.
Harry takes his hand when Draco reached out to him the moment the two Malfoys separated from each other, and one thing crossed their mind simultaneously before Kingsley started to speak.
'I'll be here, love. For as long as you'll have me. For as long as time can give.'