Slytherin or Gryffindor

"You know when I realized Lily was the one for James? When I called her a 'Mudblood' and she didn't want to jump my bones. I've plowed so many Muggleborn slags with that line. That's when I knew they were meant to be together. "

HARRY PLEASE MY SISTER IS DATING A BLACK MAN MY FAMILY’S REPUTATION CANT TAKE ANOTHER HIT LIKE THIS PLEASE HARRY I NEED YOU TO HAVE SEX WITH MY SISTER, CONTINUE THE WEASLEY BLOODLINE

GM

Mis últimas contribuciones a Ronnie (Más por falta de ideas y cantidad de cosas pendientes) #harrypotter

"Look Harry, the second you have Malfoy on the back of my flying motorcycle, her arms wrapped around you, the wind in your hair, her cheek against yours-You'll get it."

*The following is my interpretation of Harry and Draceana(Malfoid)'s wedding. Far warning, I took this one as my chance to be a total sap and cranked the sugar levels to 15. You may die.* Never had Harry been so nervous. After all he’d been through, he’d thought that this would be simple to face in comparison. Yet, standing at the end of the aisle, his future having yet to make her entrance, he could feel his heart doing its best to break out of his chest. So desperately was he looking for something to distract himself that he latched onto the first thing that he heard. A piano, playing the tune of a song they danced to at a ball ages ago, and for a moment he could let himself get lost in that memory. The smile she had then, one that she’d never shown him before, was one that she gave him almost everyday now, yet it still melted him just as it did that night. He could feel himself floating, even with feet firmly planted in the ground, and given the snickering of Ron behind him, it was clear his feeling wasn’t subtle. Neville, Seamus, and Dean joined in, their collective laugh contagious enough to spread to the Weasleys who were in the front row on Harry’s side. The sound pulled Harry back to the ground, but rather than scowl, he found some comfort in it. The sobs added some confusion, but as he turned to them, he understood. Hagrid stood off to the side of the Weaseleys, in front of a large chair that had been purposely moved to the venue just for him. He was always a soft heart, it was his greatest strength, what had endeared the man to Harry when he came barging into the Dursley’s house at what felt like a lifetime ago. At least it was tears of joy, though Harry could not bear to look at them for too long, lest he join the man in his display. As he turned away, he paused for a moment on Dudley, who stood right behind Mr. Weasley. Harry had sent an invitation to his foster family out of courtesy, never expecting anyone to arrive, but his cousin reached back out, and they began to talk. Old memories were tough to get through, but some measure of reconciliation had come about from their talks. The smile and thumbs up from Dudley gave Harry a vision at what Vernon would have been like if he was slimmer and truly jolly, and that gave the groom an odd comfort that he never saw coming, but took all the same. Narcissa Malfoy stood in the front row, opposite the Weasleys and the aisle seat next to hers was empty. She carried herself with her usual refined air, though the slight redness under her eyes had told Harry she’d shed the tears for this moment in private… for now, at least. Those who stood in the rows behind her, he was only vaguely familiar with from the functions that he’d been dragged to, but closer to the one he was waiting for. The same could be said in reverse about the ones who gathered behind the Weasleys. Still, he was grateful that he had requested a small wedding, which had agreed upon as the best option. No doubt an open venue would result in swarms of the press, but the back of the Malfoy’s Manor was both private and beautiful enough to serve as the perfect location. Honestly, he had thought the place was going to be more dreary than what he saw now, given the patriarchs usual demeanor. Yet, with the sun clear above them and the sky a vibrant blue, their garden had been turned into an isolated wonderland of faerie lights, trellises lined with roses red, white, and even green, and ribbons of silver that weaved throughout the venue. There were more decorations than just that, but just trying to process it all was making his head start to spin again. He looked back across from him, finding familiar faces again. Pansy Parkinson stood as the maid-of-honor, adorned in a dress of green that had highlights of red, like the rest of the bridesmaids did. She had reconnected with the bride shortly after graduation, reforming their friendship under shared tears and late nights of conversation. A wry smirk was on her face upon taking in Harry’s nearly trembling demeanor, but he wasn’t about to entertain her in that regard any more than he could. What still surprised him were those that stood behind her. Hermione, Luna, and Ginny were all smiles, waving at their husbands from across the aisle. Logic told him that this sight was an impossibility, but the earnest grins on their faces as they gave him a small wave eased his shoulders further. Professor McGonagall was the officiant of today’s union, the tale of Hogwarts’s own headmistress bullying the Ministry into granting her the certification still making Harry snort just from thinking about it. She stood prim and proper, like always, but the smile on her wizened face never left since she arrived. That was the final piece he needed to calm down. Only to fall apart when the music changed. A bright tune drifted through the venue upon Draceana’s entrance. Harry couldn’t find the words to describe her, even in his mind. All he knew was the sight of her took his breath away and nearly robbed the strength from his legs. Her dress was white, but sheened with silver, and was still in the simple, elegant style that she always preferred. A thin veil covered her face, he knew the moment it was lifted, he would have to keep himself from falling over. In her arm was a bouquet of the same roses that decorated the place around them, and in the other was Lucius, posture upright and gaze focused ahead. He wasn’t staring at Harry directly, but he could feel the father’s attention, no doubt to see if the man waiting for Draceana was going to make a mess of himself. Harry refused to give him the satisfaction of having such a memory, and straightened his back. Their procession down the aisle was deliberate, a pace that almost seemed chosen purposefully to drive Harry mad. He wanted nothing else but to rush down and kiss her there, but he contained himself, just barely. The punch on his shoulder from Ron didn’t help matters, and he knew his best man did that on purpose. When Draceana arrived at the front of the aisle, Lucious lifted her veil. Harry didn’t think she would get more beautiful, yet his prediction from earlier proved to be true. She looked at her father with a bright smile, and in a break from decorum, gave him a hug before stepping away and in front of her maid-of-honor, who flashed her a giddy grin upon taking her bouquet. Their eyes met, and he could see the tears swell in hers immediately. His own vision started to blur, but he blinked that away. McGonagall raised her hand to them all, and the music drifted to silence. “We are gathered here today to celebrate a union most unique, but one that is every bit as wonderful. I shall not dally and keep these two from their moment, but I ask that they take a moment to speak their vows.” Expectant stares fell upon Harry, but the weight of them melted away as he looked at Draceana. He was never much for words, but in this case, he found them. “I stand before a woman who, in those early years we knew each other, I never would have thought would be here in front me, but now know could be the only one I look upon. Ever since that Christmas night, your strength has always been with me, even when I was a fool who did not look when he should have.” Draceana’s arms began to tremble, and the tears in her eyes were on the verge of falling. Harry steadied his voice, finding only mild success. “I vow to give you that same strength, and more beyond that, to be the one that stands at your side through all the storms and trials that follow, for with your hand in mine, they will be nothing but a breeze to cool us. I, Harry, take you, Draceana, to be my wedded wife, to walk with and hold for the rest of this life and everything after; for better, for worse, and everything in between, for my heart will be with you, even in death. Always.” Draceana’s tears fell as she gathered herself with a trembling breath, squeezing her hands together. “You aren’t making this fair… but you never have, have you? There is so much I could say, so much that I have already said, that I could stand here until the sun rises and falls again, but in the end, that which sticks out in my mind most is a name. A name that I have spoken in spite, in mockery, in pain, in suffering, but a name that I said so much more in happiness and bliss, a sweet whisper that I kept to myself for so long to keep me strong.” Her voice started to crack, and now the tears fell freely down Harry’s face. “A name that you have chosen to give me, a name that I so desperately wished to take, and now… I will. I, Draceana, take you, Harry, to be my wedded husband, to lean on and support for every breath we share in this life and all the ones after; through the best of days, through the worst, and all that comes between, for our hearts will be intertwined. Always.” McGonagall cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. “Harry, do you take Draceana to be your lawfully wedded wife?” He looked Draceana clear in her eyes. “I do.” “And Draceana, do you take Harry to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The bride met his gaze. “I do.” McGonagall waved at the best man. “The rings, Weasely.” Ron coughed, and a small chuckle rippled through the crowd. “R-right.” Harry turned to his friend, who placed the rings, simple bands of gold and silver weaved together, into his hands and flashed him a wide grin. He returned the smile and clutched the rings as he turned around, wasting no time to slip one on Draceana’s finger. She was even faster. McGonagall raised her wand above them and gave it a twirl, showering them in a wave of soft light. “Then, by the power vested in me and all the headmasters before me, do I pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Harry, you may now ki-” His lips were already on Draceana’s before the sentence was finished. Laughter and cheers roared around them, but in that moment, there may as well have been nobody else, for all that he wanted was in his hands. And he knew she thought the same.

"Harry, one more thing." "Don't worry, Cedric. I'll get your body to your parents." "It's not that. I thought you should know the girl really likes you." "I didn't have the guts to invite Cho." "That's not who I meant, Harry. The Slytherin girl." "You can't be serious right now. Did Peeves possess your ghost? You're dead!" "Lucius was here today. Only you can stop Dracaena from following in his dark footsteps. Buy her a Butterbeer for me." "Cedric, I—" "See you, magic cowboy."