130 Wedding

Harry was buttoning the last pearl cufflink on his tuxedo when a knock came at the door.

“Come in,” he called, adjusting his tie in the mirror.

The door cracked open, and Yao’s head appeared, her bald head looking more polished than the usual matte shine. She too, was dressed in a perfectly cut black tuxedo. “You ready?” she asked teasingly.

Harry’s lips curled up. “Almost. What’s up?”

Yao stepped inside, and right behind her came Tony Stark, already striking a pose like he was on the red carpet. He wore a tuxedo that was probably worth more than Clint’s house, shimmering with faintly bedazzled threads that caught the light, paired with his ever-present sunglasses.

“Groomsmen delivery service,” Tony announced, raising a hand like he was introducing a game show prize. Yao held out a small lily lapel pin, while Tony brandished a silver flask like it was Excalibur.

Yao walked up in front of Harry and carefully positioned the small lily bouquet on his lapel. Tony, meanwhile, was the exact opposite of calm and composed. He sidled up to Harry’s other side and offered the flask of whiskey.

“Here,” Tony said, offering it out with a flourish. “For the nerves.”

Harry arched a brow at him. “I really don’t need that.”

“Then it’s for good luck,” Tony shot back immediately, waggling the flask as if the answer was obvious.

Yao, without looking up from pinning the flower, muttered, “Your version of good luck usually comes with hangovers and bad decisions.”

“That’s called character building,” Tony countered, affronted. “And besides, Romanoff can outshine anyone on her bad day with her looks. He needs a little glow and pep in his step to keep up.”

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes, but relented and took the flask. He tipped it back for a short swig as the smoky whiskey burned pleasantly down his throat. “Happy?” he asked dryly, handing it back.

“Ecstatic,” Tony said, taking the flask and promptly helping himself to a long gulp. He smacked his lips and grinned. “See? Now we’re both lucky.”

Yao finally leaned back, satisfied with her handiwork, and gave Harry a once-over. “Perfect. You look… almost respectable.”

Harry smirked. “High praise.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she said.

Tony gestured between the two of them with the flask. “This is why I’m here. To balance her monk-like serenity with my roguish charm. It’s a flawless system.”

Yao tilted her head as she finished smoothing down Harry’s tuxedo. “Nervous?” she asked calmly; she already knew the answer.

Harry straightened, tugging lightly at his jacket. “For this? Never,” he replied.

Tony let out a loud, exaggerated groan and rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Oh, please. You’ve fought gods, aliens, killer robots… Romanoff isn’t that scary.”

Harry smirked at Tony’s comment and bravado. “Wait until it’s your turn. Let’s see how calm and collected you are when you’re the one standing at the altar.”

Tony jabbed a finger in Harry’s direction. “Yeah, well, newsflash, Potter: my wedding is going to be A. M. A. Z. I. N. G.” He spelt it out, drawing invisible letters in the air with his finger like a schoolteacher. “It’s going to be like a scene straight out of a Hollywood movie —Pepper will obviously approve every tasteful detail—but still. And me? I will be the life of the party. Not a sweaty, nervous wreck like you’re predicting.”

Harry gave him a mock-serious nod. “I’ll be sure to remind you of that when you’re panicking over boutonnières and crying into a flask five minutes before Pepper walks in.”

“Flask crying? Please. I only cry into the most expensive scotch money can buy,” Tony shot back smoothly, slipping the flask back into his jacket. “Now cut the melodrama, Potter. We’ve got a wedding to light up.”

Harry chuckled under his breath while Yao just shook her head, muttering something about “children in tuxedos.” The three of them walked out of the Barton homestead together, stepping into the golden farm air where the celebration was about to begin.

The Ohio sky looked like it had been painted for the occasion. Warm sunlight bathed the fields in gold, but it never grew harsh enough to sting. A soft breeze wound through the rows of chairs, cool and refreshing, carrying with it the perfume of freshly cut grass and the delicate sweetness of flowers. Felicia had spent hours forcing Harry to make the weather perfect today using his magic in the morning.

Every detail of the small farm had been transformed. Lilies, marigolds, and peonies trailed along the white chairs, delicate blooms tied in with ribbons that fluttered gently in the breeze. At the front stood an arch woven entirely from white roses, so carefully arranged it seemed impossible that everyone knew it was created using magic. The arch caught the sunlight like lace, each petal glowing faintly against the backdrop of the open sky. Beneath it stretched a runner of ivory linen that glimmered faintly when the breeze shifted.

The theme was a radiant, clean and timeless white. White chairs lined the aisle. White cloths were draped over the tables waiting in the reception area. White lanterns, strung from tree branches, swayed gently, their glass catching the light so they sparkled like little stars even in the day. And yet, it wasn’t overwhelming. The farm still felt like a farm as the rolling fields stretched lazily into the horizon.

Music drifted softly through the air as Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” played from the speakers. Tony had insisted it be played by a small live string quartet, but due to the security logistics, it had to be cancelled.

For the guests, we had Charles and Dorea sitting together in the front row, beaming like they owned the day, Charles occasionally straightening his tie as though he were about to be inspected by a drill sergeant rather than simply watching his foster son get married. Dorea, of course, was far more relaxed, already passing quiet commentary on the fashion choices of others with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Maria Hill looked sharp as ever, managing to give off the air of a government agent even in her formal dress. She was posted beside Phil Coulson, who looked endearingly out of place, shifting in his seat as though expecting someone to brief him on protocol.

Vision sat perfectly still, hands folded neatly, his suit immaculate in that too-perfect way that made it seem almost stitched into his being. Pietro and Wanda, meanwhile, had clearly decided they were here to enjoy themselves. The former was serene but glowing with quiet pride, the latter already leaning back in his chair with his usual restless energy, earning a sharp nudge from his sister every few minutes.

Rhodey was chatting animatedly with Bruce, their conversation peppered with bursts of laughter that made the usually reserved scientist look lighter than usual. Next to Bruce sat Betty Ross, her hand occasionally brushing his as though reassuring him. This was the first time the two of them had attended a function together after Bruce’s whole Hulk incident.

Thor was unmissable, towering in his suit with the kind of booming presence that made even small talk sound like a declaration of war. Jane Foster, seated gracefully at his side, somehow managed to ground him with a single touch to his arm. Frigga and Odin, regally seated nearby, were perhaps the most surreal sight of all, one radiating warmth, the other brooding like he had better things to do but staying because, well, it was family.

Steve Rogers sat with his posture as straight as he could, though his smile was softer. Beside him, Pepper Potts radiated effortlessly, balancing grace with the kind of steel that said she’d wrangled Tony Stark for years and survived to tell the tale.

When Harry stepped onto the aisle, all eyes turned to him. He walked with confidence, but there was a boyish sparkle in his eyes that betrayed just how surreal this moment felt. Yao moved silently at his side while Tony, true to form, walked just a step behind, smirking like he was personally responsible for every bit of style in the ceremony.

The stage ahead had been transformed into something simple yet elegant, glowing with soft lights that reflected off polished wood and flowers arranged with surprising taste (probably Pepper’s doing, since no one trusted Tony or Harry with floral design). At the centre of it all stood Nick Fury as the officiator.

He wore a suit, an actual, proper suit, instead of his trench coat today. Which was enough to draw a few subtle gasps and whispers among the guests. The infamous Director of SHIELD, the man who usually looked like he’d just stepped out of a war room, was now standing at the altar like a grumpy father figure roped into Sunday service. His single eye swept across the gathering, sharp as ever, but when it landed on Harry, there was the faintest twitch of a smile, as if he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride beneath all the formality.

Harry took his place before him, exhaling a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. Yao gave a respectful bow and stepped back to stand with Tony. Together, the two flanked Harry like mismatched but loyal guardians, one radiating serene wisdom, the other radiating smug charisma.

The music switched to into a playful tune, and Lila Barton came skipping down the aisle with a wicker basket in her hands. She scattered petals with all the earnestness of a florist, though occasionally she got carried away and simply tossed handfuls in the air like confetti. The guests chuckled softly, charmed by her unfiltered enthusiasm.

When she reached the altar, Lila marched right up to Harry with a determined grin. He crouched slightly, holding out his palm, and she smacked it with a triumphant high five before darting off to join Dorea and Charles in the front row.

Next came Cooper in his suit and shiny shoes. He carried the velvet ring pillow with both hands as if it were the most sacred mission of his young life. A few guests couldn’t help but snap photos; the boy was so solemn it was almost comical.

When he finally arrived, Cooper handed the pillow over to Harry with exaggerated care, like he was passing on the crown jewels. Harry accepted it with equal ceremony, then broke the act with a grin as he offered Cooper a high five, too. Cooper slapped his hand, his face breaking into a wide, proud smile, before he trotted off to sit beside Lila.

The gentle hush of the crowd was broken as the music suddenly cut out. A beat of silence passed—then a thumping bassline rolled through the speakers, followed by the crack of a drum kit that shook the seats.

Avril Lavigne’s voice burst into the air, unapologetic and loud:

“Let me hear you say hey, hey, hey (Hey, hey, hey)
Alright!
Now let me hear you say hey, hey, ho (Hey, hey, ho)!”

Gasps and laughter rippled through the guests. A few exchanged bewildered glances, while others just grinned, recognising exactly whose entrance this was about to be. This was not a slow, dreamy ballad. This was Natasha Romanoff.

The aisle became a stage as Clint appeared first, strutting like a self-appointed hype man in his sharp suit, arms spread wide as if introducing royalty. And right beside him, Natasha stepped into view. She wasn’t moving timidly; she was gliding with happiness, looking both radiant and resplendent, whilst wearing a smirk that dared anyone to question her choice of soundtrack.

For a second, the crowd forgot to breathe. Jane Foster giggled behind her hand, Thor let out a booming laugh, and even Odin’s lips twitched with amusement. Pepper leaned toward Steve and whispered, “Of course it’s Avril,” earning a soft snort from him.

At the front, Nick Fury—stone-faced as ever—lifted his hand and announced, his voice carrying over the thrum of the song: “Please all stand for our bride.”

And they did, every single guest rising to their feet, half in respect and half swept up in the chaotic, rebellious joy of the moment.

The music kicked harder as Natasha appeared in full. She was wearing a gown so simple it bordered on defiance, yet impossibly elegant all the same. A sleek white dress that hugged her form before flowing into soft, weightless fabric that drifted with every step. The gown caught the sunlight like it had been stitched with strands of light itself, glowing as she moved.

In her hands, she carried a bouquet of fresh white roses. A veil framed her fiery hair like a soft halo, the breeze teasing its edges just enough to make it seem alive.

Clint walked proudly at her side, grinning like a mischievous brother giving away his sister, while behind them, Laura and Felicia followed in matching periwinkle blue dresses.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. This was Natasha stripped of her shadows, radiant, unguarded, and utterly breathtaking. The world around him blurred, the guests, the flowers, the music, all fading until there was only Natasha walking toward him.

As Natasha walked down the aisle, the guests turned towards her, the swell of Avril’s song bouncing off the flower-lined archway. And instead of standing solemn and still like every groom in history, Harry caught Natasha’s eye, grinned mischievously, and winked. Then, to the horror and delight of Natasha, he started shimmying in place at the altar.

It wasn’t graceful – more of a jiggle-shuffle, half-hip sway, half-dorky footwork – but it was done with such cheeky confidence that Natasha couldn’t help but control herself from bursting into laughter.. As the song hit the chorus, Harry began to lip-sync dramatically, mouthing each word like a rock star performing for an arena of thousands. He even pointed directly at Natasha, finger-gun style, mouthing (while changing the lyrics of the song): “You’re the best damn thing that my eyes have ever seen!”

Then, with a flourish, he blew her a flying kiss that sailed across the aisle with all the mock grandeur of a wizard casting a spell. Natasha tried to hold her composure, she really did, but the sight of her soon-to-be husband lip-syncing like Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing whilst standing at the altar made her snort a little.

When Natasha and Clint reached the altar, Clint paused, meeting Harry’s gaze for a beat before placing Natasha’s hand in his. Harry accepted it with a grin and carefully lifted the veil, letting it fall back to reveal Natasha in full. For a moment, he just stared, mesmerised by the beautiful lady in front of him.

The bridesmaids, Laura and Felicia, dutifully stepped into place at Natasha’s side. Clint gave Natasha’s hand one last squeeze as he slipped into the front row beside his kids.

“Alright, listen up. We’re here today for something that’s been a long time coming. Too damn long, if you ask me. These two have fought side by side, bled side by side, and somehow managed not to kill each other in the process. That’s what I call a miracle.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the guests, but Fury’s tone softened as he turned his gaze back to Harry and Natasha.

“Today isn’t about battles, or missions, or saving the world. It’s about something harder, choosing someone, every single day, and not backing down when it gets rough. You’ve already found each other, chosen each other, and made it through hellfire and hostile incursions more than once. Now you’re standing here to make it official. From this moment on, it’s the first day of the rest of your shared life.”

He paused, letting the words hang in the air before adding dryly, “So let’s get this done before somebody blows something up.”

To start the proceedings formally, Nick started his officiator speech. “We are gathered here today to unite Harry James Potter and Natalia Alianovna Romanova in holy matrimony. This is not the beginning of a new relationship but an acknowledgement of the next chapter in their lives together. Harry and Natasha will mark their transition as a couple not only by celebrating the love between themselves, but also by celebrating the love between all of us – including the love of their extended family and best friends. Without that love, today would be far less joyous.”

“Before we start, I have to ask. Even though there is no one who could stop this from happening.” The second line was said more to himself in a whispered tone. “Is there anyone present that knows of any impediment why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace. This time, the vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of literal gods, one of whom is the goddess of love.” Frigga stood up and waved her hands to signal that she was the one who Fury was talking about. Fury continued “who is judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts; therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.

“Who presents Natalia Alianovna Romanova to be married to Harry James Potter?” Fury asked.

Clint spoke up “I do, the name’s Clint, Clint Barton, honorary brother of the bride and one of the better Avengers”

Fury gave a long, unimpressed stare to Clint, then looked back at the guests. “Alright, here’s the part where we pretend you two didn’t already decide this years ago. From the moment you first laid eyes on each other… to the moment you realised it wasn’t just hormones or battlefield adrenaline… to the moment you decided you were actually going to make this binding, every one of those moments led us here.”

“Harry, Natasha, please face each other and join hands. In the presence of your family and friends, I ask you to declare your intentions before you are joined in the sacred covenant of marriage.”

He turned to Harry, raising a brow. “Harry James Potter, do you take Natalia Alianovna Romanova to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her, as long as you both shall live?”

Harry grinned. “I do.”

“And have you come here freely and without reservation to marry this woman?” Fury Continued

“I have” Harry replied.

Fury nodded, deadpan. “Yeah, I figured. You’d have to be blind, dumb, and deaf to say otherwise. If you said anything else today, she would have skinned you alive a thousand ways.”

He turned to Natasha. “Natalia Alianovna Romanova, do you take Harry James Potter to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him, as long as you both shall live?”

Natasha smirked and answered firmly, “I do.”

“And have you come here freely and without reservation to marry this man?” Fury asked.

“I have” Natasha answered.

Fury clapped his hands once, startling a few of the guests. “Good, and don’t think about running away when things are working out too well for you. I believe Harry and Natasha have wrote their own vows for one another, so I now invite them to share them. Natasha, you may go first.”

Natasha turned to face Harry fully. “Harry, from this day forward, I promise to share my life with yours — the good, the bad, and the chaotic in between. I promise to love you, to laugh with you, and to keep building our future, one mission and one dream at a time. I’ll stand by you when things get hard, and I’ll celebrate with you when they go right. I’ll keep faith in the path we’re on, no matter how rough it gets. And I promise to give you every bit of love I have — for as long as I’m here.”

She let the faintest smirk tug at her lips. “And knowing us, that means probably dodging explosions, alien invasions, and the occasional world-ending disaster — but I’ll still be there. Always.”

Next it was Harry’s turn. “I vow to help you love life, even on the days when it feels impossible. I promise to hold you with tenderness and to find the patience that love demands, even when you’re testing mine.” He smirked gently, earning a ripple of laughter from the guests.

“I’ll speak when words are needed, and share the silence when they’re not. I’ll agree to disagree when you have your… creative ideas, and I’ll still back you up anyway. I vow to live within the warmth of your heart and always call it my home. Wherever you are, Natasha — that’s where I belong.”

He squeezed her hands a little tighter. “And I promise, no matter what comes — magic, mayhem, or the end of the world again — you’ll never face it alone. Not while I still draw breath.”

“Hand over the rings.” Fury ordered and Harry handed the rings over to Fury, who eyed them like they were contraband. “Finally,” Fury muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Harry and Natasha have chosen the rings they wish to exchange with each other as a symbol of their everlasting devotion. A ring is an unbroken circle, with ends that have been deliberately joined together in order to create a continuous and unending union. They are symbols of infinity, and therefore a perfect representation of the infinite love that Harry and Natasha share. When you look at these rings on your hands, be reminded of this moment, of your commitment, and of the love you will always feel for each other.” Fury declared .

“Harry, as you place this ring on Natasha’s finger, please repeat after me.” Fury instructed.

Harry did as instructed and repated after Fury as he slipped the ring in Natasha’s ring finger. “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my love now and forever.”

Next, Fury turned to Natasha and instructed “Natasha, as you place this ring on Harry’s finger, please repeat after me.”

Natasha followed suit and repeated after Fury as she slipped the ring in Harry’s ring finger. “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my love now and forever.”

Fury straightened his suit jacket and declared “Before these witnesses, you have pledged to be joined in marriage. You have now sealed this pledge with your wedding rings. By the authority vested in me as one of Earth’s defenders, it is my great privilege to now pronounce you husband and wife!”

Harry didn’t need telling twice. He pulled Natasha close, and the two shared their first kiss as husband and wife. The guests erupted in cheers, claps, and Thor’s booming roar of approval that shook the chairs.

“Well I was going to say you may kiss the bride, but it appears Harry in his eagerness was several steps ahead of me.” Fury said to himself more that anyone else.

Fury raised his voice over the commotion. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Potter. May God have mercy on us all.”

After that, the wedding party recessed down the aisle, applause and cheers following them like a tide of joy. And shortly after, everyone made their way to the back porch, which had been transformed into a welcoming reception hall under the open sky. Long tables were draped in elegant white and silver cloths, adorned with small vases of wildflowers that Dorea had insisted on arranging herself. The scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filled the air, mingling with the sweetness of fruit pies and the decadent aroma of chocolate cake.

Guests settled into their seats, laughter already bubbling across the tables as glasses clinked. Dorea and Charlus oversaw the feast like proud hosts. When the plates had been served and the first bites enjoyed, Fury rose to his feet with a glass in hand. “To Harry and Natasha,” he began. “I’ve seen both of you fight for the world, fight for others, and fight for yourselves. Today, you’re choosing to fight for each other. That’s a battle worth winning every single day. May your love outlast every storm that comes your way.”

A cheer rose, and glasses clinked. Steve followed next, standing a little awkwardly at first but quickly finding his stride. “Harry, Natasha—you’ve both become more than teammates. You’re family. What you’ve found here, together, is the kind of strength that makes all the difference. I wish you years of happiness, laughter, and maybe just a little less chaos than usual. Just a little.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, and Steve raised his glass.

Tony, naturally, couldn’t resist. “Well, since Cap went all Hallmark channel on us, let me balance the scales. Natasha, congratulations—you’ve somehow managed to keep Harry from blowing himself up in experiments, and Harry, congratulations—you’ve somehow managed to survive Natasha’s glare long enough to marry her. That’s true love, folks. All jokes aside… you two make an unbeatable team. I can’t wait to see where this partnership takes you.”

More laughter, mixed with heartfelt applause.

Bruce stood next, quieter but no less sincere. “You both have faced darkness and never let it define you. What you’ve built today is a light—not just for yourselves, but for all of us who get to call you friends. Here’s to peace, even in the little moments.”

Clint leaned back casually, raising his glass without standing. “I’ll keep it simple: May your aim always be true, your plans always work out, and may you always have someone to watch your back. Because really, that’s what this is about. Cheers.”

Thor, beaming brighter than the lanterns, finally stood and thundered his words with joy.
“Today I raise my glass to Harry Potter and Natasha Romanoff, two souls bound by the mightiest magic of all: love! May your days together be glorious, and your nights filled with feasts worthy of Valhalla!”

Next, Pepper Potts rose gracefully, and gave Harry a long, almost maternal stare before sighing. “Alright, you idiot,” she said, dryly. “Don’t mess this up. Enjoy it fully, love her fiercely. Cheers to Harry and Nat. And this one is specifically for Tony, I should have agreed to be the best man instead of you.” and Pepper raised her glass, her smirk softening into a warm smile as she sat down.

Laura Barton stood next, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s about damn time. Honestly, I still don’t know why you two didn’t just run off and get married earlier. But… I’m glad you didn’t, because if you had, we wouldn’t all be here to celebrate this perfect day with you.” She lifted her glass toward the couple. “To the happy couple!”

Natasha smiled, mouthing thank you, while Clint leaned over to give his wife’s hand a squeeze.

Jane Foster got up after her and smoothed her dress nervously before speaking, her eyes locking onto Natasha’s with warmth. “Harry, Natasha is one of the most precious people in my life. Please take care of her, laugh with her, and protect her heart. The way you two look at each other… it’s proof enough that you will.”

After the ‘kids’ had spoken, Frigga finally allowed Odin to speak, “Congratulations,” he intoned with weighted authority. “May your love endure across the Nine Realms, and may your house always be filled with laughter.”

After which Frigga rose immediately. “My dear heart,” she said warmly to Natasha, “you’ve already told me what you want for a wedding gift. When you are ready, come to Asgard – and I shall bestow upon you the greatest blessing I can possibly give you.”

Natasha actually blushed, while the guests roared with laughter.

At the far end, Dorea Richards dabbed her eyes with a napkin as she rose. “I’m far too sentimental for public speeches,” she admitted with a trembling voice. “So I’ll keep it short: Harry, I’m proud of who you’ve become, but I’m even prouder of who you chose to love. Natasha, watching you two together has reminded me what a good marriage looks like – two people who make each other laugh, who support each other’s dreams, and who just genuinely like spending time together. I was blessed to have my happy marriage and saddened by my inability to have kids. But one day, Harry, you popped up in our quaint little pub in the middle of nowhere and since then wormed your way into our hearts. I never thought I would be in this position but thanks to you, I have. To Natasha and Harry—thank you for letting me be here.”

Charles Richards stood after her, simple and steady. “Tonight, my heart is just overflowing with gratitude. Grateful for the wonderful man Harry has become, grateful for Natasha who loves him so well, and grateful for all of you who are here to celebrate with us. Harry, you’ve always had a special place in our hearts, but seeing you with Natasha has shown me new sides of you – more caring, more patient, more happy than I’ve ever seen you. Natasha, you didn’t just gain a husband tonight, you gained a whole family who already loves you. Here’s to your beautiful future together. Be present for one another. Especially on boring Tuesdays. That’s the secret. Congratulations.”

Phil Coulson’s turn brought a collective smirk across the SHIELD veterans’ faces. He raised his glass with trademark dry delivery. “Don’t take too long on your honeymoon, we still need you back. But… take the time you deserve. Cheers.”

Finally, Maria Hill stood, her face a perfect poker mask. She fixed Harry with a gaze sharp enough to slice steel. “Potter,” she said coolly, “take care of her. If you mess up, I will find you. And I’m very good at finding people.”

Then it was time for the best man to give her speech. Yao stood, raising her glass with a grin. “Ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Yao and I’ve had the questionable honor of being Harry’s best man. I say questionable because being Harry’s friend for the past ten years has been a bit like working as a personal injury lawyer, lots of damage control, and frequent calls at three in the morning asking how to save the world without breaking reality.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the guests.

“I first met Harry under… less than friendly circumstances. I fought him in his café because I thought he was a spawn of some extra-dimensional demonic entity. To be fair, the odds weren’t in his favour that day. But as I got to know him, I realized he wasn’t a monster at all, just a lost soul, trying to figure out where he belonged. That’s when I knew we’d be friends for life. Since then, I’ve had the privilege of watching Harry grow from a man desperately searching for normalcy into someone extraordinary. The glue that somehow holds this impossible family together.”

She turned toward Natasha with a softer smile.

“Natasha, you’re not just marrying Harry today—you’re also inheriting future. You have tied your fate to someone who will love you unconditionally, stand by you through anything, and probably annoy you with dad jokes until the end of time. And Harry, you’ve somehow convinced one of the most incredible women in the world to marry you. Don’t mess this up. Because let’s face it – you won’t find another one who can out-stare you and put up with your sense of humor”

Yao raised her glass higher. “To Harry and Natasha, may your love prove to be stronger your combined stubbornness and more everlasting than Harry’s spellwork.”

The room erupted with cheers and clinking glasses.

Felicia stood up next with a mischievous grin, glass in hand. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Felicia—Natasha’s mentee, occasional partner-in-crime, and unofficial emotional support human for whenever Harry inevitably pisses her off. And yes, that happens more than you’d think.”

A wave of chuckles rolled through the guests.

“I’ve been cheering these two on through everything, whether it’s saving the world, or that awkward little… ‘break’ they went through. Thank goodness they sorted that out, right? Because let’s be real, none of us were interested in choosing sides.”

Her gaze shifted toward Harry with a smirk. “Speaking of Harry, my boss. Somehow, this whole combination works. Against all odds, against all reason, against thing that could have happened for this to not work, here we are. And honestly? Watching these two together has been one of my favorite things. Through all the ups and downs, one thing has never changed—the way they look at each other like they’re in on the world’s funniest inside joke, and the rest of us are just waiting for the punch line.”

Her tone softened. “To Natasha and Harry: May your love keep growing, may your Netflix queue always be full, and may you have lots of kids we can all spoil rotten, because if they inherit Harry’s sass and Natasha’s stare, they’re going to be unstoppable.”

Felicia raised her glass high. “To the bride and groom!”

As Felicia sat down, it was time for the dance. Harry rose and extended a hand toward Natasha. She took it without hesitation, her eyes locked on his, and together they stepped onto the makeshift dance floor.

For a moment, the world around them blurred and the only thing they heard was the music. Just the two of them, swaying gently in each other’s arms. Natasha rested her head lightly against Harry’s chest, and he held her close, his thumb brushing circles over the small of her back.

Elvis’s voice crooned through the speakers: “Wise men say, only fools rush in…”

Harry caught her gaze again, and in that look was every vow he couldn’t put into words. Natasha’s lips curled into a rare, unguarded smile, one that made Harry feel like he was seeing sunlight for the first time.

The guests watched them blissfully, some dabbing at tears, others holding their partners a little closer. Thor clutched Jane’s hand, Steve stood with misty eyes, and even Fury leaned back with a faint, satisfied smirk.

As the song built to its refrain, Harry twirled Natasha lightly, her white gown flowing like ripples of moonlight before she returned to his arms. Together they moved in perfect rhythm, as if the universe itself had slowed its tempo just for them.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too…”

Harry pressed a kiss to Natasha’s temple, whispering something only she could hear. She laughed softly, and the sound was sweeter than any music.

“…for I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Others joined the dance floor, but for Harry and Natasha, they wrapped in each other’s arms, there was no audience or the world around them, only the beginning of forever.