There were three certainties in life: death, taxes, and when something involving a Potter and a Malfoy was supposed to occur, chaos would ensue. Thinking back on the weeks leading up to their wedding, the men shouldn't have been surprised by how things had gone down. They'd survived the traumatic experience of Tom Riddle, Hetero supremacist, breaking in to Harry's mother Lily's house; Draco had dealt with his second father's death with a brave face; and Neville had gotten a mullet.

So seeing Lucius Malfoy walk out of the ballroom with Draco's mother on his arm and his aunt at their heels: the blond couldn't understand why he was so upset. But he was. He was distraught.

Harry, his husband, tried desperately to console the man for the unfortunate and downright questionable events that had just taken place, but Draco could do little more than sob. The wedding guests looked away, attempting to give the men privacy in the crowded room. The green-eyed man sighed, rubbing his husband's back as the world seemed to fall from beneath Draco.

"I just," he started, voice weepy. "I don't understand how this happened. I'm just so- so..."

"It's okay, Dray, you don't have to say anything." Harry soothed him, pulling him closer to him. "He's a right piece of shit, doing what he did. After everything he put you through, put us through, and he has the audacity to come in here with the likes of her on his arm?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth," the blond sighed, nuzzling his tear-stained face against Harry's neck. "I'm sorry. I'm ruining our special day."

The green-eyed man frowned. "Draco Malfoy, you look at me this instant." He forced him to meet his eyes: watery silver against cool green. "You're not ruining anything. You're right: this is our special day, and you have every right to feel the way that you feel. And you can't help that you're feeling downright miserable, and I don't blame you. I could never hold that against you. Quite frankly, I'm just as appalled by your father's behavior, and to do it so... so publicly."

"Hate crimes happen to people who do what he did, Harry. He could end up just like- like-"

"It's okay, Draco. Nothing's going to happen to your dad." Although I can't see why you'd care if something did, Harry thought, but he'd never say it.

"What did I do to deserve you?" The blond queried, still holding Harry's gaze. This was progress; this was the longest he'd looked at him in the past hour since all hell had broken loose. The dark-haired man leaned down to capture his husband's lips in a kiss.

"You were born," he chuckled, and Draco grinned. Then, a serious thought occurred to him and a frown covered his face once more.

"Imagine if I hadn't been, though, or if I'd come two years later. I'd have been marrying your brother."

"And that just wouldn't do. I like you too much to have let him have you." And truthfully, Harry didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about just how lucky he was that his father and Draco's had gone off and procreated around the same time, so that they could end up together. He wondered if James and Lucius had planned it, getting women pregnant so close together like that, but he didn't really feel like asking, especially with what had just happened. Quite frankly, Harry never wanted to vocalize Lucius' name again, nor the wretch of a woman he'd chosen to shag.

"I like you too. In fact, I think it's a bit more than 'like,' Harry. I think I love you," Draco explained, drawing his husband from his spiraling thoughts.

"I guess that's a good thing, otherwise these rings on our fingers would be pretty awkward." He flexed his finger, showing off the silver band. The blond took him by surprise as he grabbed his hand and kissed his finger: a long, searing kiss that had heat bubbling in the very core of Harry's belly, and suddenly he found that he couldn't wait for the honeymoon.

The moment was broken up, however, by a petite little blonde toddler waddling her way over to them. Harry recognized her as Victoire Weasley, Bill's daughter whose mother had sold them their flat. She giggled, clapping as she came to a halt in front of the green-eyed man. "Dance, 'Arry!"

The groom frowned, glancing towards his husband who urged him on. I'll be okay, he seemed to say through his eyes. As Harry stood, Draco stood too, and the man dressed in white began to spin the toddler around the dance floor, smiling as she hollered with glee. The blond made his way over to a table, ordering a water from the waiter and watching as his husband stepped in figure-eight's with the young girl.

He'll make a great father someday, he thought, though that was years away. Although they'd rushed into actually getting married, the men had agreed to hold off awhile before they brought children into the picture. They wanted to really get to know each other, to make up for the years of hostility, and to perhaps explore some of that world that Harry's Uncle Sirius had been telling him about. Then, he found himself looking over at the Weasley table, where Bill was also watching his daughter be spun around, and his eyes landed on the matriarch of the family.

Aside from living in a polyamorous relationship, already considered far different than most families, Molly Weasley had taken the surname of the man who'd fathered her seven children, though the woman who'd sat beside her had kept her family name. After a moment, Draco stood and found himself walking over to the family and leaning down to offer his hand to the woman: "Ms. Black, may I have this dance?"

Andromeda Black, Draco's technical aunt, observed the boy before rising to her feet and allowing him to lead her into a waltz. She had worn a scarlet gown which swept the floor as she swayed her hips: a golden pendant around her neck. Her hair was brown, perhaps a shade lighter than her sister Bellatrix's, and her eyes were kinder than any woman's he'd ever met.

"I'm so sorry about my sisters, Draco. I know I haven't been the most active in your life either, what with having eight children to raise... but I'm so proud of you and who you've become. Obviously Ron's told me a lot about you, not always the nicest in the years you and Harry didn't speak, but I held faith that things would turn out alright in the end, and they did."

"It's alright, Auntie. I could never hold their behavior against you. Thank you for believing in me, and I'm sorry, but did you say eight children? I thought there were seven..." the blond found himself doing a headcount of the family seated to his right.

"My daughter, Nymphadora. When Molly was pregnant with Charlie, she told me how she wanted me to experience the wonders of pregnancy too, but Arthur has always been loyal to her, so a close friend of mine helped me out. I guess she'd be your cousin then, huh?" Andromeda pursued her lips.

"I- I never knew... Harry never-"

"Dora keeps to herself, dear. Don't feel bad. And ever since she joined that special unit on the police force – you know, the one that goes out and finds Hetero extremists, she's been even more reserved. She is terribly sorry she couldn't make it though."

Draco nodded, amazed by the information he was receiving. Still, he couldn't even begin to understand how someone as mild-mannered and kind as Andromeda had come from the same family as his mother and aunt. It was insane!

"I'd love to meet her someday," he claimed and then the song ended. The two parted ways, Andromeda apologizing again for her sister's downright 'dreadful' behavior, and soon enough, the night was coming to an end. After his conversation with his aunt, Draco found himself in much higher spirits as he stood beside Harry and bade his guests farewell, thanking them for being a part of their special night.

When the Weasleys passed by to leave, Ron surprised the blond with a hug, which Draco found himself melting into after years of thinking Harry's best friend had hated him. "You treat that boy right, Malfoy."

"I will," the blond smiled. And then the redheaded boy was surprised by Blaise running up to him and offering him his number, downright begging him to call him sometime. The handsome, dark-skinned man winked at his best friend before following the Weasleys all the way out the building.

Neville gave Harry a long hug, wishing him his sincerest congratulations before yawning and explaining that he'd better get home, seeing as school began for him in the morning. Frank wrapped his arm around his son, leading him from the place while James held back for a moment. At first, Draco thought that the hazel-eyed man would walk over to his son and wish him a goodnight, but instead found the man standing in front of him.

"Draco, I'd like to sincerely apologize for everything we put you two through over the years. We were wrong, blinded by an idea... I'm just so happy that you and my son eventually found love on your own." James began, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a sealed envelope with an official looking seal on it. "Your father and I started a business together years ago. That's what sparked this whole thing to begin with: we wanted someone to leave it to when we were dead and gone, and though that's not the case, I'd like you to have it now."

"Mr. Potter," the blond's eyes widened as he took the envelope from him. "T- Thank you. I never knew why you and... him had wanted us together so bad. Thank you."

"I'm not done, Draco. I want you and Harry to take that envelope right to the bank, and I want you to sell it. Sell it all. Take the money and live your lives the way you two want to."

Harry came over to see what the men had been talking about. "Dad, what's going-"

"Thank you, Mr. Potter." Draco interjected, shaking the older man's hand firmly. He turned to his husband. "Your dad's just given us the rights to our fathers' business. He told us to sell it, Harry. We can do whatever we want!"

The green-eyed man frowned. "But won't that be hurting you, Dad? You put everything you had into this..."

"I'll be fine, Harry. Go and enjoy yourselves. It's the least I could do." James Potter hugged his son and walked out of the building; the only people who remained were the cleaning staff.

After taking a moment to fully absorb what had happened, Draco found himself turning to his husband, taking his hand and running his thumb over his knuckles. "Well, Mr. Potter-Malfoy, what do you say the two of us go start our happily ever after?"

Harry grinned. "I say I'll race you to the car."

Draco provided one of his signature smirks. "You're on."

THE END. FOR REAL.