The Great Hall of Hogwarts had been transformed once again, but this time it wasn't for a battle or celebration of victory—it was for love. Rows of seats filled with magical and mortal guests alike stretched across the Hall. Golden arches laced with ivy and glowing orbs framed the front, where Harry Potter and his four radiant brides stood.
Hermione, Daphne, Tracey, and Fleur each wore gowns that reflected their personalities: Hermione's simple and elegant, Daphne's sleek and regal, Tracey's playful and intricate, and Fleur's ethereal and flowing like moonlight. Harry himself was dressed in robes of deep black embroidered with threads of silver and gold, exuding a divine elegance.
Cheers erupted as the ceremony ended with a magical burst of white and gold sparks that rained down gently like snow. The newlyweds turned to the crowd, their smiles shining brighter than any spell, as their family, friends, and even a few gods who had come down from Olympus applauded loudly.
At the reception, tables groaned under the weight of delicacies from every corner of the magical world. Laughter rang out as Fred and George Weasley enchanted goblets to dance, while Luna Lovegood gifted each guest a "ceremonial snorkack feather" for good fortune.
Even Rita Skeeter was there, though she kept a low profile. Her quill floated nearby, scribbling furiously:
"Harry Potter's Love Quartet: A Union of Power, Beauty, and Unbreakable Bonds."
Their honeymoon was spent in a realm Harry had crafted himself: a paradise untouched by time or danger. Rolling fields of emerald grass met crystalline lakes, and skies shifted between warm hues of sunrise and the cool twilight of stars.
The newlyweds spent days basking in the peace they had fought so hard to achieve. There was laughter as Harry and Tracey raced across the golden beaches, only for Tracey to trip and pull Harry into the surf. Daphne and Hermione debated the nuances of divine power, their voices carrying across the soft winds, while Fleur danced gracefully in the glowing moonlight, drawing her husband's awe.
The nights were filled with tender intimacy, a culmination of their love and trust. Wrapped in each other's arms, they spoke of the future, of dreams they had yet to fulfill, and of the family they wished to build.
A few years later, the Potter family grew. Hermione, Daphne, Tracey, and Fleur each gave birth to healthy, magical children. Their resilience and strength meant the process was smooth, nearly painless, though Harry remained at their sides every moment, his calming energy a constant presence.
Their first child, Celeste (Hermione's), had eyes that shimmered like a nebula, reflecting her father's celestial power. Daphne's son, Orion, was stoic even as a baby, with a calm intensity that promised greatness. Tracey's twins, Lyra and Felix, were bundles of energy, always moving and curious. Fleur's daughter, Aurelie, was the most ethereal, her presence calming anyone near her.
The castle-turned-home was soon filled with the giggles of children and the gentle hum of protective wards Harry had placed to ensure their safety.
"Daddy!" Lyra called, her little hands reaching for Harry as he walked into the sunlit garden.
Harry scooped her up effortlessly, spinning her around as her giggles filled the air. "What is it, little star?"
"Felix keeps turning the flowers into frogs!" Lyra pouted, pointing at her twin, who stood by a patch of croaking lilies, clearly proud of himself.
Harry chuckled. "Felix, what did I say about playing with nature magic?"
The boy grinned cheekily. "Only for practice, not pranks."
"That's right." Harry knelt, flicking a finger to turn the frogs back into blooms. "Now, how about we practice something more fun? Like creating constellations."
The children's eyes lit up as Harry waved a hand, conjuring a floating canvas of stars above them. With a guiding touch, he helped each of them shape the stars into animals, teaching them the delicate balance of creation and magic.
As the children grew, so did their powers. Harry made it a priority to teach them not just how to wield magic, but how to respect it. Lessons took place in the sprawling fields of their home, where the children practiced under the watchful eyes of their parents.
Orion, ever serious, stood with his wand pointed at a boulder. "Dad, how do I make it float higher without losing control?"
Harry crouched beside him, his celestial eyes warm. "Focus on the connection between you and the rock. Magic isn't just about power; it's about understanding. Feel the weight, and let it guide you."
Orion nodded, and the boulder lifted smoothly, hovering higher and higher until it rested gently in the air.
Meanwhile, Lyra and Felix were competing to see who could create the brightest magical firework. Fleur sat nearby, cradling Aurelie, who watched the display with wide, glowing eyes. Hermione and Daphne, ever the scholars, had started teaching Celeste advanced rune magic, the child's intellect already rivaling their own.