Thank you for this wickedly lovely prompt, Palathene! I immediately started making notes the instant I saw it and was tickled to death when it was assigned to me. The prompt was 'Severus Snape was believed dead, until he showed up at the wedding and ran off with the bride'.

Many thanks to theosedarndursleys for the beta and to the ever lovely velveteenbunny for the brit pick. THANK YOU!

August 2004, The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole

Pandemonium was reigning at the early afternoon wedding venue of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley.

Harry Potter and his fellow Aurors, many of whom were invited as they were also Ron's mates from work, began casting spells to detect Dark Magic. Several performed locator spells to determine Hermione's whereabouts. Ron stood dumbfounded, unable to move, and Molly was at once weeping insensibly and ordering her children to find out what happened.

"Gin!" called Harry. "Take your mother home and give her a Calming Draught. Arthur, you'd better take Ron as well; dose him, too. We'll contact you as soon as we know anything." Harry turned to the rest of the panicked guests. Casting a Sonorus on his voice, he announced, "Please, everyone settle down. Please, be quiet!"

The guests turned to Harry and silence began to overtake the room, but many still muttered in bewilderment. "Now, the Aurors that are present and I have determined no Dark Magic has been cast. It was a simple Klieg Charm to mask whoever took Hermione, and I am sad to say, we must consider this an abduction."

"But by whom, Harry?" asked Neville Longbottom. "I thought I heard her say 'Severus' right before they left!"

"Me, too, but we all know Snape's been dead since the Final Battle."

"Could it be someone in Polyjuice?"

"It could, although how anyone would have anything of his after this long is mystery." He turned toward the nearest Auror. "Atkins, see if you can find traces of a magical signature masked by Polyjuice."

"Right away, boss."

Twenty-five minutes earlier, The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole

Things had started quietly enough. Hermione Granger stood by her father, her hand tucked into his arm. This is it, she thought. Dressed in her wedding finery of white satin and lace, she shook with nervousness, flowers quaking in her left hand. Her father smiled down upon her and together, they began the walk down the aisle toward a beaming Ron. If Mr. Granger noticed that Hermione was a step and a half-step behind his pace, he said nothing.

It had taken nearly six years after the war to reach this point; there was school to finish, University to attend, and a job to secure after all. It shouldn't have surprised anyone that Hermione had finished not only her final year at Hogwarts in three months, but her University education in three years' time, and the last two and one-half years establishing herself in her career. She had begun her job at St. Mungo's as a Healer, specialising in psychological disorders, and used that as an excuse to keep pushing any talk about a wedding farther and farther out. She finally relented when Ron gave her a bigger engagement ring. He explained that he thought that her hesitancy was because he had so little money. If he could now afford a bigger ring, she shouldn't hesitate to marry him, because now they could afford it, right?

She cared for Ron, she really did, and although she was not in love with him, she loved him as a friend. Something seemed missing from their relationship. Perhaps she could fall in love with him as time went by? Failing that, didn't they always say that once passion and lust fade, companionship is all you need? The warning bells in her head from her years of psychological study were clanging, but she couldn't find it in her stupid Gryffindor heart, which longed for another, to tell him no any longer.

Hermione and her father arrived at the front, and he handed her off to Ron. She gazed at her future husband, watching the sweat drip down his face regardless of the climate charms placed around the tent. His hands were also damp, and he was breathing rapidly. Hermione's eyes widen when she realized he was leaning toward her for a kiss. Not knowing what else to do, she allowed it, and wet, clammy lips smeared her lovely lipstick.

Taking a final look around the perfectly decorated tent that had been set up for the wedding on the grounds of The Burrow—Hermione had wanted to have it at a lovely Muggle park not far from her home, but she was out-Weasley'd—she saw so many happy faces staring back; Molly and Hagrid were already crying buckets. Her own parents' smiles were tremulous with happiness.

She turned back toward the minister, and the ceremony began, although Hermione had heard none of it except a muffled buzzing of voices in her ears. She had just cleared her throat to say her vows when it happened.

The vicar, being quite old to begin with, dropped his Book of Common Prayer, and as he stooped to pick it up, a white flash of light encompassed the tent. The guests stood as one, many drawing their wands, and some of the women screamed.

From within the blinding light, a black figure moved swiftly toward the altar and before Hermione could comprehend what was going on, she was scooped up into strong arms. The man's familiar scent wafted over her just as he turned into his Apparition.

The only thing the shocked guests and clan of Weasleys thought they heard as Hermione disappeared was her gasp of, "Severus!"

Present time, Severus Snape's flat, Esch-sur-Alzette, Luxembourg

Severus had Apparated to his home in Luxembourg. He set Hermione on her feet and stepped away, taking in the sight of the woman he'd not seen in six years. She was beautiful in her wedding finery, even if he felt her wearing white was a bit of a mockery. She had gotten taller; her head would fit right in the indent of his shoulder now, and his chin would rest comfortably on top of her curls. Before, he had had to bend to kiss her; not so now. She was thin and womanly at the same time whereas before she had had the shape of a teenager on the crest of blooming into womanhood. Her hair had not been swept up into a fancy style, but left long and free. Its length pulled down the irrepressible curls she once had, and he was amused to discover he missed them. His thoughts were interrupted by a wand under his chin.

"Who are you?!" she hissed.

"Exactly who you think I am."

"A lie," she growled. "He died six years ago. You're an imposter!"

"Ask me something only I would know."

Hermione stared at him. So much of what he knew was public fodder now, available in books, potions journals and the transcripts of the trials. But there was one tiny detail only the real Severus Snape would know. Not even Ron would know this titbit.

"Where do I have a paw print shaped mole?"

Severus smiled predatorily. "My dear, you have the most sublime mole at the crease of your inner left thigh, right by your lovely cunt."

Hermione, blushing spectacularly, rushed into his arms and burst into tears. And then immediately began pummelling him with her fists and yelling, "YOU WERE DEAD! I checked for a pulse! You were dead! Where have you been!? I have been in torment for six years! I loved you, I still love you! Why did you leave me!? Why did you never contact me!?"

Chuckling at Hermione's outburst, he answered, "It is a long story. Come, we'll sit down and talk. Would you like some tea?"

Having regained some control of herself after her initial outburst, replied, "Erm, yes, but I need to go to the bathroom first."

"At the end of the hall there," Severus replied, pointing. "Once I get the kettle on, I'll go find something else for you to wear; I assume you don't want to be strapped up in that all evening."

Moments later, Severus stood in front of the bathroom door, a pair of track suit bottoms and a T-shirt in his hands. He knocked and it opened, one of Hermione's lovely brown eyes peeking out. "Here are some clothes."

"I need your help."

Severus' one eyebrow quirked up. "Oh?"

"I left my wand in the sitting room and can't open the buttons on the back. Would you mind?"

"Not at all," he replied.

The door opened wider to let Severus in, and she turned her back to him and pulled her mane of hair out of the way. She shivered as she felt his magic ripple across her. She remembered the first time she felt his power; it was as he took her virginity. The wash of magic over her as they bonded went soul deep. She knew it was a combination of his love and desire. Perhaps it was better that he hadn't used his hands to unbutton her gown; she didn't know if she would be able to control herself. The desire to touch him was strong, but she needed to know what the hell was going on first. Quietly she thanked him and then shut the door as he left the room.

Ten minutes later, she was accepting a cup of tea and settled into a corner of his sofa, a blanket over her knees.

"I admit I find the fact that you wore white quite amusing. Surely you and Ronald didn't wait until your wedding night?"

Hermione took a sip of her tea. "Actually, we did. Believe it or not, he wanted to. I know he wasn't a virgin."

"What did you plan on telling your husband when he realised you were not?"

Glibly she replied, "I lost it on the Thestral in fifth year?"

Severus snorted.

Hermione said quietly, "Looking back, I'm glad we never did. I don't think I could have…not after you."

"Surely I'm not that memorable," he scoffed. "You were young and impressionable. I was your first; of course you'd compare your future lovers to me."

"If you were so certain I was going to have future lovers, why did you cast the soul charm on me the first time we made love?" she said pointedly.

Severus opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again. Thinking a moment, he finally said, "Perhaps it's time to tell you the entire story, Hermione."

"Will you have time before they find me? You know, nearly the entire Auror regiment was present at the wedding, and they are not all dunderheads. They will find me."

"And what will you tell them once they do?" Severus asked.

"Tell me the story first. I'll answer you when I've heard it. Will it take long? For them to find us, I mean."

"Actually, yes. There is only one Wizarding ley line in this part of Luxembourg, and it is not wide. My house is in a nondescript Muggle area and not unplottable, which would throw them off the trail. Given my history, I think they'd expect it to be so. Our magical signatures are traceable, but even though it's not unplottable, the dampening fields I have placed on the property will make it hard for them to pick up a magical signature. I give them two days at least. Plenty of time to tell you a story, don't you think?"

"Will it take that long?"

"Perhaps. And if it doesn't, we shall use the remaining time deciding what to do next. More tea?" he offered. "Something to eat, maybe?"

Hermione nodded. "I'd love something to eat actually. I was too nervous before to even eat breakfast."

"Come into the kitchen, and I'll fix us some sandwiches. Then we will start our tale, for it is our tale Hermione. It begins and ends with you." Severus reached out and pulled a lock of her hair. "I miss your curls, believe it or not."

The couple went into the kitchen and for several minutes, quietly prepared sandwiches, crisps, pickles, and more tea. Hermione, at Severus' direction, gathered plates and cutlery. As she pulled opened drawers in search of the knives and forks, her thoughts were a jumble. Here she was in Severus' home, preparing a simple meal as though it was just an average day. She snorted. It was definitely not an average day. It was a very surreal day. The only man she truly loved, once thought dead and gone forever, was alive. Alive! Should she be angry? Part of her felt so. Should she be grateful? Yes; he'd saved her—again—from a terrible mistake.

Questions swirled, and her inner know-it-all demanded answers. However, six years was a long time and she knew, logically, that Severus deserved to give the answers in his own way.

Feeling confident in this conclusion, she asked, "Shall we eat here or in the sitting room?"

"Wherever you'd feel more comfortable."

"The sitting room is cosy; I like it."

"Then we shall eat there. Take in the plates, and I'll be in shortly."

Hermione went into the sitting room and sat on the couch, setting the dishes down on the coffee table. She tidied up the magazines and other odds and ends to make room for the plates as well as the tray she knew Severus would have loaded with their meal.

He entered the room and with a quiet thank you to Hermione for her efforts, and set the tray down. He indicated that she should serve herself, and the pair busied themselves loading their plates. Once they were comfortably situated, Severus spoke.

"It began in the summer of nineteen ninety-six when you were landed in my lap, wanted or not, by Albus Dumbledore…