Disclaimer: I own nothing but Esme!
A/N: Warning! Though this fic is still a comedy and does still contain random acts of violence, some parts are going to get more serious! And other parts are going to get more Sirius… It's the third in a series, and it's a definite repost!
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"He wants me to kill Esme, sir, and I just don't think I can." He rang his hands nervously, looking outside at the late July evening. Severus Snape was just sitting down with Headmaster Albus Dumbledore for a long delayed discussion. Dumbledore's eyebrows pushed together, and his eyes looked flat and tired.
"I see. Please, go on."
"The violence and the pranking and pushing each other to the brink of death is all well and good when we're both in on it and it's just in the name of entertainment for ourselves, but I can't bring myself to end her life. I wouldn't be able to go on after seeing the realization in her eyes, split seconds before her death, that it was I, her friend, who had killed her. I could never forgive myself." He shook his head, "But if I fail," he shuddered, "he won't let her live. He'll take one of his sick, twisted minions and send them out after her. And they won't do it quickly, nor will they do it painlessly. They're like cats; they'll bat her around a bit, using any curse they want. They probably won't even use the killing curse! They'd rather see her bleed or be tortured to death, rather than a flash of light. And I can't let her suffer like that!" he stopped, sweating. Dumbledore looked at him hard, studying his eyes.
"You," he finally said, "are showing more care for Esmeralda than I saw you show for Lily."
"What are you saying?"
"I am saying," his eyes boring into Snape's, "that you are in love with Esme."
"Yes, I'm in love with her!" Snape exploded, "Of course I'm in love with her! Have I not made that clear?" He jumped up from his chair, pushing his hands through his hair. "I've loved her for years, but of course she was always too young and when we began teaching I wanted to tell her how I felt every day, but by then I was too old! Then of course she fell in love with Black and they're getting married, and whenever I think of trying to win her with a Love Potion, every part of me screams because the idea is so horrible and dishonest! It's the same thing as with Lily; I didn't say anything about how much I loved her, and then some other idiot married her. Then she died because of me. And now, even if it's not me who does it, the Death Eaters are going to kill her and even," he paused, breathing hard. "Even if I can't love her, all I want to do is protect her!"
Dumbledore nodded, remaining calm throughout Snape's entire outburst of showing actual emotions. "The only thing you wish to do is protect her?"
"If I can't love her."
"And you love her with all of your heart and soul?"
"Obviously."
"You would lay down your life for hers, and are willing to protect her until the day that you die?"
"I will never make the same mistake as I did with," he swallowed, "Lily."
"I feel that, perhaps, you should become her Protector."
"Her what?"
"Her Protector. You guard her life for as long as you possibly can, and if she dies in a way you could have prevented, you will be haunted with it your entire life," Snape stared at him, his eyebrows arched.
"You're kidding me." Dumbledore shook his head.
"I have been her Protector since her birth, but as I grow old, I may pass it on to anyone whom I see fit." Snape sat quietly, mulling the words over in his mind.
"I'll do it. I will protect her as long as I live," he said simply.
"Until the day you die," Dumbledore corrected.
"Until the day I die," Snape nodded. Dumbledore silently touched his wand to his chest. When he pulled it away a long, bright blue strand came connected with it. He then touched the wand to Snape's chest, the blue strand disappearing into his heart. "But there's still the matter of the Dark Lord's orders. If I don't follow them, Esme's going to need a new Protector pretty damn soon."
"Yes," Dumbledore stroked his beard, "I suppose that you could make it look as though you are attempting to murder her in an 'amusing' fashion, while she mistakes it for random acts of violence. It may not create a stronger bond between you two, but she won't die if you're careful. But she may grow suspicious. If you're lucky, Tom may feel that you're an unfit murderer, and leave those jobs to his other followers; although, he may also suspect something. After all how hard should it be to kill a twenty-one year old teacher?"
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"No, you two may not share a room!" Molly rolled her eyes and gently swatted her eldest daughter with a spatula, and muttered, "I swear to Merlin we've had this discussion before."
"But Mum," Esme cried. "Once Harry comes tonight there'll be four boys in a room barely fit for one! Perhaps if you just moved Sirius into my room…" She raised her eyebrows suggestively. Molly turned, putting her hands on her hips.
"Absolutely not! The twins will move into mine and your father's room; we are married therefore we can share," she cut off Esme's interjection before it had begun, "I will move into your room and your father will move into Sirius' room, and that's that!" Esme rolled her eyes and shrugged at her fiancé, who just smiled. Sirius had been a lot cheerier since they'd left Hogwarts. He constantly offered to help cook and clean, even though he'd just gotten there that morning. He'd even volunteered to help with the wedding plans. Speaking of, "Now, let's go work on your gown. Sirius, why don't you, I don't know, go bark at the boys until they clean up their room."
"Bark at them, or run around their room rolling in things until they come down?" he asked with a smile.
"Just go," Esme rolled her eyes, kissed her boyfriend, and left, grinning. The great thing about a good mood is that it's highly contagious.
For the time being, Esme's dress was a simple, white gown that barely reached her knees. The dress lacked lace, pearls, or a bodice tight enough to stay on Esme's chest. It was clearly the dress Molly had been married in, and, lovely as it was, it needed a few alterations to be a proper wedding gown. As Molly worked with different lengths and shapes, she began questioning Esme as mothers tend to do.
"So, dear, have you thought about how many bridesmaids and groomsmen you want?"
"Well, we wanted all of the boys and Harry to be the groomsmen, and Sirius wants Remus to be his best man. I'm going to have Tonks as my maid of honor, and I think I'll pair Ron with Hermione and Harry with Ginny, they're such cute couples, don't you agree?" She gripped the top of the gown, willing it not to fall off.
"Mmm," she responded approvingly through a mouth full of pins.
"And I think Bill should walk with the girl he knows from work, the one who was in the Tournament last year. She seems quite bright; she was one of the few of the French who didn't run away screaming when I introduced myself. Percy," she clenched her teeth, "returned my invitation, that lousy son-of-a—"
"Esmeralda!" The pins fell out of her mouth.
"Sorry Mum, I didn't mean to offend."
"I know, and I know that it was hard on you when he returned your letter. But he's your brother, and he'll come around. And when he does, you will forgive him." She looked at her reproachfully.
"Yes Mum." At that moment, the real Mad-Eye Moody burst into the parlor where they were working on the dress.
"Are you mad, woman?! We have a fallen man to rescue, and you are playing dress-up! Get out of that getup and onto a broomstick! May I assume that you have both buttocks?"
"What?" Esme dropped the top of the bodice, stunned. The whole gown fell to the floor, completely revealing her.
"There's no time! Now, I must get your idiot boyfriend; he seems to be wrestling with your brothers—as a dog." And he limped out of the room.
Esme stared at her mother, "And yet that was not awkward."
Molly shrugged, "Well, he can already see through clothes."
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