Everything was so sweet.
"Harrison James Potter-Riddle."
Harry did not want to wish to rush the wedding, but there was no negative point of view he could protest so he let his husband to be decide all the details of the wedding.
Druella squealed in joy when he told her the news, he'd be a married man before the frost melted.
Is that a good or bad thing?
I don't know.
Harry saw dumbeldore's concerned glances burn into his head but he dismissed them, everything was okay after all, or would be.
Hermione and Ron had gone home, Tom didn't lie about that.
And had left him a letter but Tom had said he should open it after the wedding; so he wouldn't be distracted during it.
Another way to control you?
He already has me.
Tom had neglected his death-eaters duties all month, and his knights understood and some were even glad they had been postponed.
Half of the death eaters adored harry, and the other half were to frightened to say anything about the marriage of their lord to a half-blood with no inheritance or dowry.
"And a severe attitude problem." Walburga and Druella had laughed.
"Did you know?" Harry turned to druella,
"That he was my fated?"
She smiled,
"I knew you were his."
And that's how it came to be.
Harry was Tom's.
And tommorow it would be offical.
Harry sat on the floor of the garden steps, looking into the sky, sirius' was the brightest, just as it was in his time-line.
His old time-line.
He had to remind himself,
This,
Was his time-line, now.
"May I join you, my love?" He heard the familiar voice of his future husband, the man who'd he belong to in a few hours, when dawn came.
"Ofcourse." He mumbled, and did not look up.
"Don't you feel uncomfortable on those steps?"
And with that harry felt the hard cold concrete transfigure into a soft cushion beneath him and he laughed at the absurdity.
"Well, you've already fixed that, right?"
Tom smirked as he sat beside Harry, "I can't have my fiancée sitting on some dirty step can I?"
Harry hummed in response, he could, he definitely could, but he wouldn't.
Not yet.
"What's your favourite star?" He asked, looking back up into the night sky, stars all visble, even with dawn already approaching quickly.
His wedding day a mere seconds away as it rose.
"Sirius." He replied without hesitation.
"Why?" Harry asked, suprised.
Tom turned to harry, "Because you stare at it due to it's beauty, and I stare at you due to your beauty, we're quite alike."
Dawn had arrived.
Harry smiled.
And stabbed the knife into his husband's back.