THE WEDDING
(Sequel to Mamacita-san's The Reluctant Uncle)
It was the most talked-about wedding of the century.
Severus Snape--longtime recluse and reformed Death Eater, harsh Potions taskmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry--was to marry Trillium Lovejoy, former Auror and famed at Hogwarts as the only teacher in fifty years who had maintained the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for more than a year. (Technically she had not yet begun her second year; but considering that nothing dire had befallen her by the end of her first year, as had happened with every other person to accept the post over the last fifty years, it was generally accepted that she would report in due course for her second year of teaching.)
Severus and Trillium had engaged in a somewhat tumultuous romance over the past school year. They had survived far more traumatic situations than most average couples would be called upon to do--kidnapping and torture by Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself, chief among them. Trillium had also revealed that she was none other than Harry Potter's aunt, half-sister to Harry's deceased mother Lily and his Aunt Petunia Dursley. As might be expected, this circumstance caused its own complications; Harry and Snape both were barely able to tolerate the other's existence, let alone the fact that the other was developing a close relationship, each in his own way, with Trillium.
The death of Voldemort and the capture of most of his remaining Death Eaters had had many salutary results besides the obvious one of their no longer perpetrating atrocities on the wizarding and Muggle worlds alike. There was a certain air of relaxation, a realization of peace, now that terror was no longer anticipated around every corner. People were becoming reaccustomed to living without the constant shadow of impending war on the horizon. For the first time since Voldemort had risen to power nearly fifty years before, plans could be made; even long-range plans that could take a lifetime to come to full completion.
Such as wedding plans.
Severus had never been involved in planning a wedding before. He had no siblings, and, until very recently, no one he could truly call a friend--let alone a close friend--so he had no experience of weddings at all.
Now that his own was upon him--magically; miraculously, even--he was simultaneously enchanted by the idea and overwhelmed by the details.
For his love was not one to allow him to sit idly by, leaving her to arrange the affair on her own. Oh, no. Never mind that she had about six hundred friends and relatives, each more eager than the last to provide all possible assistance to "dear Trillium" on this most special occasion. No, she saw to it that he was right there in the thick of things, every bit as involved as she was even in the most minute details.
Not that he minded, really. He was fascinated by the variety and scope of the tasks that he was given to believe were essential to what he had always thought of as a very simple process. There was, of course, the matter of The Dress. It appeared his input was not only not necessary but indeed not wanted there...something about bad luck if he were to see The Dress before the wedding. However, the number of details on which he was consulted more than made up for it--the cake, the flowers, the food, the champagne, the music. It was fortunate that the actual event was to take place no more than a month after school was out; had it been much later, the novelty of the occasion would have begun to wear off and he would no doubt have had far less patience with the whole affair.
Trillium had buckets of relatives--most of them female and on the elderly side. Severus found he could hardly move without gaggles of them suddenly appearing--out of nowhere, it seemed--and soliciting the opinion of "dear Severus" as to his favorite kind of cake, the type of music they should have, and whether or not it was strictly necessary for the gentlemen of the wedding party to wear boutonnieres in this day and age. ("Absolutely not," was Dear Severus' adamant opinion.)
Archibald eventually took pity on Severus and invited him to escape from the ladies (the word "hide" was never mentioned, as such) by retiring to the Gentlemen's Library whenever he felt the need for sanctuary. It was an offer of which Snape happily took advantage, and it proved to be worthwhile as the room did seem utterly female-proof. The elderly aunties and cousins, being sticklers for tradition and very old-fashioned, would as soon have paraded naked through the streets of London as dreamed of invading the Gentlemen's Library. It just Wasn't Done.
One point that the ladies repeatedly brought up gradually sank into his consciousness as something he needed to address. There was to be a "wedding party," and it was going to consist of more than just him and Trillium. The wedding was, aunties and grand plans notwithstanding, going to be a fairly small one; but still, Aunt Charlotte insisted, "You simply must have a best man to stand up with you, dear Severus. Why, 'twould be too shabby for words to have no best man and no maid of honor in the wedding party." Since she seemed prepared to twitter on in this vein at some length, he could only be thankful she was called away at that moment to deal with some other matter.
However, now that she had brought the matter up, he did rather wonder what to do about it. A best man was usually one's best friend, perhaps a brother--or, failing that, one of the bride's brothers. He came up empty on all three counts. He and Trillium couldn't produce a single brother between them, and he was unable to--he had no--in short, there seemed to be no one suitable for the position of best man.
One morning when they were able to snatch a private moment in the garden, he asked Trillium who her maid of honor was going to be, hoping to gain some clue as to how to solve his problem without actually letting on that it was a problem.
"So," he said casually, toying with a long piece of ornamental grass he had picked, "who have you chosen as your maid of honor?" He glanced at her, trying to look as if her answer was not in any way critical.
"Oh--I've asked Minerva," she said, apparently oblivious to any strain on his part. "She put up an argument, of course, because she thinks I should have someone closer to my own age. But I put that nonsense to rest. She's my best friend--well, my best female friend," she qualified, darting Severus a quick look under her lashes, "and I don't care what age she is. She's got to be in my wedding. Who have you asked to be your best man? You've never said."
Ah--see how quickly opening your mouth can backfire? Severus thought.
"I haven't asked anyone. I didn't realize until Charlotte said something just recently that I was supposed to have a best man."
"Oh, I see. Who will you ask?" she inquired interestedly.
He sighed. He wasn't sure why he'd thought she might just let it go; obviously that wasn't going to happen. "I don't know," he admitted. "Neither of us has any brothers, and I don't--I'm not exactly--overrun with friends." He gave a self-deprecating little laugh.
"Hmm. I do see what you mean," she said. He was grateful that she didn't protest what he had said as untrue, which would have made things even more uncomfortable. He regarded her fondly. Practicality was one of her qualities he admired the most.
"What about Lucius?" she asked tentatively. "Do you think--?"
Severus shook his head. "I don't believe it would be wise. Everyone knows the only reason he escaped the punishment dealt out to the other Death Eaters is because he helped to destroy the Dark Lord and was willing to take on Fudge's unpleasant little task with the Dark factions. I don't think people are ready to accept his presence at social gatherings just yet. Not...the best idea. And," he said, to forestall the next logical question, "Draco has decided to remain at home with him rather than come to the wedding--not that I believe for a minute that Lucius would allow himself to feel something pathetic as self-pity, but I'm not sure Draco understands that yet."
Trillium nodded. "I suppose you're right." She thought for a moment, then her face brightened. "Oh! I have an idea, Severus, if--if you'd be willing to consider it."
He looked at her skeptically. "What?" he asked, knowing what she was going to say.
"Well...what about Harry?" she suggested. He stared at her for a long moment, and she began to fidget just a little. "Oh, I know," she said. "You can barely stand the sight of each other." She sighed, looking downcast. "I'd hoped things would get better, but maybe it's just too soon."
Severus felt as if he'd just kicked a puppy. "Well--I hardly think it's that bad," he temporized. "I haven't even seen him since school ended." He considered for a moment. The worst part of asking Harry to do him this favor was that it would put Severus in his debt. Not tremendously so, but the very idea rubbed him the wrong way.
A gentle hand on his arm made him look up. "What's going through that mind of yours?" Trillium asked with a little smile.
He chuckled. There was no point in prevaricating or beating around the bush with her. She knew him too well. "Oh, nothing," he said. "It's just that it seems rather an imposition to ask of anyone, and if I were to ask Potter, then--well--"
"You'd owe him something in return," she finished. Severus nodded. Trillium said firmly, "Well, Severus, soon you and he will be family, and this is just the kind of thing families do for each other. I can't think of anything more appropriate." She glanced back at him as she strolled a bit further along the path. "Of course, I won't insist if you're really set against the idea." She turned away to hide her smile, but when Severus grasped her shoulder and turned her round, he saw her smug expression.
"Ah, Little Miss Clever," he purred. "Have it all figured out, do you?" He pulled her closer and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, then laid his cheek on her hair. It was smooth and soft, and hot from the midsummer morning sun. He closed his eyes and just stood there for a moment listening to the hum of the bees, smelling the roses from the garden and the scent of some old-fashioned soap from Trillium's hair, and enjoying the feeling of holding and being held by someone he loved. It was a perfect moment.
Then, from a distance, he heard Archibald give a welcoming roar. "Harry, m'boy! Good gad, it's high time you made your way to us. Let me look at you." His voice was joined by several of the aunties gathering round to flutter and exclaim over Harry. Severus grinned, imagining Potter having to deal with the flock of excited and inquisitive old ladies on his own. Archibald would be no help--indeed, he was obviously contributing to the interrogation with exclamations over Harry's height, the "Dark Lord situation" (as Archibald put it), and queries as to how Harry's summer was going and what he had planned for after he graduated the following summer.
Trillium felt his smile and gently withdrew from his embrace. "Perhaps we'd better go rescue poor Harry," she said. "Else the aunties will run him ragged before the day is out." They started back toward the house just as Auntie Bibs, ninety if she was a day and with more energy than the rest of them put together, flew out of the open French doors and down the path toward them.
"Oh, do come, darlings," she trilled. "He's here--Harry's come!" She reached Trillium and Severus and, darting between them, turned to propel them at a brisk pace up to the house, chattering nineteen to the dozen the entire way. The arrival of a personage such as Harry Potter--and he was related to them!--was quite an event in the lives of the aunties, most of whom lived quietly, having retired from society.
They entered the house, eyes still dazzled from the bright sunlight. The little crowd gathered around Harry parted to make way for them.
"Gracious!" Trillium exclaimed. "It's only been a month since I saw you, Harry, but already you seem taller! Is that possible?" Harry grinned and came forward to engulf her in an enormous hug.
It was true, thought Severus. Harry did seem taller; he had more...presence, Severus supposed he would say. Had a single month really made such a difference?
Then Harry turned to him. His smile dimmed a little--but only a little. "Professor," he said politely, and held out his hand. Severus took it, determined to play nicely for Trillium's sake. He was a little uncertain how to react to this young giant standing before him with an arm around Trillium's waist. Harry had passed her up in height in the last year; she looked hardly more than a girl herself standing beside him.
"Pot--Harry," Severus responded, quickly correcting himself. He gave his best approximation of a cordial smile, although Harry's raised eyebrow seemed to indicate that it had fallen somewhat short of the mark.
"Well!" Trillium said brightly. "Let's show you to your room, Harry, and you can put your things away. There's nothing much that needs doing today. Severus can show you round--" the victim's eyebrows rose at this presumption-- "and you can get to know everyone. Hermione and the Weasleys will be arriving this afternoon." She steered Harry toward the staircase, and with a quick glance back, indicated that Severus should follow.
Archibald Lovejoy's house did not look particularly large from the outside. It sat, just an old-fashioned cottage with a small rose garden in front, on a little-used side road on the very outskirts of Oxford, so far into suburbia as to be almost in the country. There were no very near neighbors.
Upon first seeing it, Harry wondered how an event as large as this wedding sounded could be held in such a small house and garden. When Trillium showed him upstairs to a hallway where, she assured him there were plenty of bedrooms to house all of the invitees, he stared in amazement. What was this? To the left and right of the stairway ran long corridors lined on both sides with doors--but they were all spaced only a couple of feet apart.
Trillium stopped in front of a door upon which hung a small card with "Harry" neatly printed on it. She said, "Here we are," and opened the door.
Harry had forgotten about the wizarding capability of making an interior space, regardless of how small it looked from the outside, large enough for any need. He walked into a spacious room that had a view of the back garden and the large meadow just beyond. Below the open window was a wide windowseat with a comfortable-looking cushion. A decent-sized featherbed stood against one wall, and a bureau was next to it. There was a door on the wall opposite the bed; opening it, Harry found a small bathroom with an identical door on the far side.
"You and Ron will share a bathroom," Trillium explained. "I hope you don't mind. He seemed the most obvious choice to put with you."
"Sure," Harry said. "Wow, this is great, Aunt Trillium. Thanks." He put his trunk and broomstick on the floor beside the windowseat and set Hedwig's cage on top of the trunk. He opened it and took Hedwig onto his wrist. "Want to stretch your wings a bit, girl?" he asked. She gave a soft hoot and nibbled his finger affectionately, then spread her wings and flew out of the window to feel the sun on her feathers for a bit before taking a nap.
"I'll leave you two to get reacquainted," Trillium said. She hovered in the doorway for a moment, smiled sunnily at them, then softly but firmly closed the door, leaving Harry and Severus in awkward silence.
"I suppose she means well," Severus muttered. Harry laughed.
"I think she's determined to get us to spend time together even if it kills us." As soon as the words were out he gulped in dismay. He hadn't really meant to say anything so insulting. After all, he did have another year to go at Hogwarts with this notoriously unforgiving man as his Potions professor.
"Mm, yes," Severus agreed sardonically. "However, now that we're alone, there is something I wanted to--er--talk to you about." He looked around. "I'd much rather go outdoors, though. It's a bit too--well, I'd just rather go outside. If you don't mind?"
Harry, mystified, shook his head and followed Severus out of the bedroom and back downstairs. The aunties had dispersed and were off to who knew where, no doubt busy with some sort of wedding business.
He and Severus walked through the back garden to where a gate was set into the low rock wall. Severus indicated the wall, and Harry climbed up to sit comfortably cross-legged on the flat slate, his back against the gatepost. Severus threw one leg across the wall and seated himself straddling it, facing Harry. He placed his hands on the warm stone in front of him and sighed.
"Well," he began, and stopped. How do you go about asking a favor of someone with whom you share a mutual dislike, who has no real reason to want to do you that favor, other than the probable disfavor of a relative should he refuse?
Harry waited, immensely curious as to what Severus wanted with him. He didn't seem angry--that was good. Of course, school had been out for a month, and there was nothing Harry had done--that he could think of--to tease Severus' hair-trigger temper. So he waited.
Severus finally looked up to see Harry watching him. He didn't show any sign of the usual type of expression he wore at school when he spoke to Severus--anger, disgust, or resentment. He merely seemed relaxed. Severus decided that was a good sign.
"I have a favor to ask of you," he blurted. Damnation! He hadn't meant to be so blunt; it had popped out before he could stop it.
"A favor?" Harry asked. "What kind of favor?" He looked interested. Well, all right, thought Severus--so far, so good.
"Erm--Trillium wants an old-fashioned wedding," he began. "With all the usual traditions." Harry nodded encouragingly. "And--well, you see--the thing is, I find myself without--" Severus trailed off, disgusted with himself. Oh, get on with it, he said to himself. He gritted his teeth.
"I should like to know," he said stiffly, "if you would be willing to lend me your services as my best man." There! Finally, it was out. He could feel his face turning bright red, but at least he'd gotten the question out. He waited for Harry's response, unable to--quite--look him in the eye.
"Wow! Really? Cool," Harry enthused. "I've never been a best man before. What do I have to do?"
Severus looked up. "You mean--you'll do it?"
"Sure!" Harry replied. He suddenly realized that Severus had expected him to refuse. "That is," he said, suddenly doubtful, "if you really want me?"
In spite of himself, Severus was touched by Harry's uncertainty. It made his own seem that much more foolish.
"I do," he said simply.
Harry grinned suddenly. "You'd better hold that thought," he said, "for about another twenty-four hours."
Severus shouted with laughter, surprising both of them. He felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders--amazingly enough, everything seemed to be working itself out. He decided to go with it. Why fight progress?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The Weasleys and Hermione arrived at one o'clock via the Floo Network, followed soon after by a large contingent of faculty from Hogwarts. The new arrivals were shown to their rooms promptly by Archibald's House Elves.
Hermione was dismayed to find that the Lovejoys kept House Elves. She had thought Professor Lovejoy would be more enlightened. When she expressed her disappointment to Ron, Auntie Nan--a tall, spare woman in brownish-gray robes who had a tendency to fade into her surroundings, therefore appearing to pop up out of nowhere in a most startling way whenever she did speak--intervened.
"Why, no, dear," she said in a shocked voice. "Good heavens! Archibald and Trillium would never countenance such a thing, indeed not! Every House Elf who works for them has been given several sets of clothing--quite the dandies, some of them--and they are all as free as birds. They can leave at any time. But of course they never do. 'Tisn't likely they'd find another situation as good as this. Why," she finished, lowering her voice dramatically, "Archibald even pays them! Nothing good can come of that, mark my words. Soon they'll all be wanting pay rises and staging worker protests, you'll see." She shook her head disapprovingly.
"But that's wonderful!" Hermione said excitedly. "Oh, I do hope there will be time to talk to him while we're here. I'll bet he'd be interested in hearing all about S.P.E.W."
"Come off it, Hermione," Ron protested. "You don't know him well enough to subject him to that. Besides, his House Elves are already freed--why would he be interested in Spew?" He used the derisive pronunciation he had long ago given to the acronym for Hermione's brainchild, the Society for Promotion of Elfish Welfare. "Sounds like he's already promoted their welfare about as much as anyone could expect."
"Ron!" Harry exclaimed as he entered the room. "Hermione! It's great to see you guys. You'll never guess what just happened--Snape asked me to be his best man!"
Ron's eyes widened. "Why on earth would he ask you? That's usually something you ask your best friend to do, isn't it?" He snickered and nudged Harry. "Been using your time to good advantage, I see--making up to Snape." He chuckled.
"Don't listen to him, Harry," Hermione said. "That's kind of you. I expect he doesn't have anyone else he can ask, if you really think about it," she finished, looking pointedly at Ron.
"And no wonder," he muttered under his breath. Hermione glared at him, and he subsided. "So," he said, an interesting thought having occurred to him. "Are you throwing a bachelor party for Snape? I have to say--" he looked thoughtful-- "I can't quite picture it. He doesn't seem like the party type, if you know what I mean."
"No," Harry said. "He said he had no intention of drinking the night away. He and my aunt are hosting the dinner this evening."
"Oh. Rats," Ron said, disappointed. He had hoped to attend his first-ever bachelor party tonight, having heard all kinds of stories from his brothers about the wild parties they had attended over the years. Although, as he'd said, he had a hard time imagining Snape as a sloppy drunk enjoying--or indeed allowing--a scantily-clad female to jump out of a cake.
"So what's the plan?" Hermione asked. "Is there anything we can do to help?"
"I don't think so," Harry replied. "Pretty much everything's done. There's the dinner party tonight, and the wedding is at ten tomorrow morning. And then--off they go."
"The honeymoon, eh?" Ron said with a speculative look. "Hmm..."
"Hey, stop--that's my aunt you're fantasizing about," Harry said in mock horror.
"No, actually it was Snape," Ron replied. Even as he said it he heard how it sounded. Harry, of course, couldn't resist this golden opportunity to tease his friend.
"Fantasizing about Snape, eh?" he said, waggling his eyebrows and throwing Hermione a knowing look.
"Oh yes," Ron simpered in a falsetto voice. "I dream about big black bats all the time! Whatever do you suppose it means?"
"Oh, really, you two," Hermione protested mildly.
"Hermione," called Mrs Weasley, "coming up to look at Trillium's dress, dear?" She stood at the foot of the stairs, beckoning. As Hermione went off, Harry and Ron tagged along automatically, still tossing jokes and insults back and forth.
"Not you two," Mrs Weasley said, throwing her hand up to stop them. "Ladies only." She grasped Hermione's and and they went up the stairs, heads together, whispering. They looked back at the boys and giggled.
"I hate it when they do that," Ron said. "What are they laughing about, anyway?" Harry shrugged.
"They're girls," he said, as if that explained it all. "Who ever knows what they're thinking?"
"Too right," Ron agreed. "Listen, Harry--I've brought my broomstick. What do you say to a little spot of Quidditch practice later on? Is it okay to fly here?"
"I should think so, once twilight comes," said a familiar voice behind them. They turned to see Severus leaning against the doorway, arms folded in front of him. "We're far enough out in the country that even if anyone did see you in the twilight, they'd probably just think you were a couple of--" he looked straight at Ron-- "big black bats." He smirked when Ron flushed, his freckles almost disappearing in the deep red color his skin had turned. Shaking his head, Severus walked away.
Ron grabbed Harry's arm. "Tell me I'm not dreaming," he said shakily. "Did Snape just make a joke?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "At your expense. Pretty funny one, too." He ducked away when Ron made a sudden recovery and tried to punch him in the arm. Laughing, they went out to assess the possibilities, Quidditch-wise, of the large trees in the meadow for use as goals.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The dinner was superb. Everyone ate his fill, competently served by House Elves who wore various articles of crimson and green clothing to show their approval of this joining between Gryffindor and Slytherin houses. Speeches and toasts were made and good wishes expressed.
But now the evening's festivities were over. The guests had retired to their rooms to get plenty of rest, the better to enjoy tomorrow's wedding and further celebrations.
Trillium walked down the garden path to the gate and rested her hand on the latch. She heard footsteps approaching behind her--smelled a cherrywood pipe--and then a warm hand wrapped around hers.
"Father," she said with a smile. "What are you doing still up?"
"Oh, just locking up," he said. "Thought I heard someone come out here, so I followed. I might ask you the same question, young lady. Why haven't you gone to bed yet?"
"I'm too excited to sleep," she admitted. "I can hardly believe that by this time tomorrow I'll have been Mrs Severus Snape for nearly fourteen whole hours. Can you believe it, Father? Me, married!"
He smiled. "And none too soon, either. You should have left me years ago--I thought you'd never go!" At her reproachful look, he laughed. "Seriously, my dear, I am happy for you. I must admit, my first impulse when you told me you were going to marry the notorious Severus Snape was to fetch you home and lock you in your room with nothing but bread and water until you came to your senses." Now it was her turn to laugh. "Oh, it may seem funny now. But I was very worried about you. I knew something of Severus' reputation, and none of it good. I felt you were in danger of having your heart broken."
"But?" she prompted.
"Well, in the last month I've come to know him a bit, and although I don't think he is a very happy man, I do believe he cares for you very much. Merlin's beard--that's obvious enough from the way he's done everything you ordered him to with all these wedding arrangements."
"Father--" reproachfully-- "really, ordered him?"
"Ha. Don't think I don't know how bossy you can be," he said with a little tap on her nose. She wrapped her hands around his arm and they stood in amiable silence for a while, enjoying the summer night.
"Think of it," Archibald murmured as they turned to go back into the house. "This is the last time you'll walk up this path as an unmarried woman." His eyes were bright with more than just the moonlight. "Ah, Trillium. You have always brought me such joy. May you do the same for Severus--he needs you so very much." He hugged her tightly, then kissed her on the cheek. "Good night, my dear."
"Good night, Father." As he walked away down the corridor, Trillium wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or the sudden film of tears in her own eyes that made him look suddenly old.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Trillium's wedding day dawned clear and bright. The sky was a cloudless blue, but the morning was still cool, and there was a light breeze to keep the air fresh.
It was nine o'clock. Trillium and Minerva were closeted together in Trillium's room, packing her things for the honeymoon trip. In a few minutes she would don the glory that was her wedding dress.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
She and Minerva had had a major difference of opinion when it came to choosing The Dress. If left to her own devices, Trillium would have got something fairly plain. White, she supposed, else the aunties were liable to have conniptions.
"Of course white," Minerva said briskly. "Every bride deserves to wear white. I don't care how old she is," she added in response to Trillium's murmured protest that she was no longer a young girl. "If I were getting married, I would wear white," she said with finality--and Trillium subsided meekly.
But when it came to the matter of plain versus fancy, she was anything but meek. She put her foot down adamantly--no frills, no flounces, no ruffles. She distinctly heard Minerva whimper as the ground rules were being firmly explained. A determined Minerva proceeded to trot out dress after dress, her expression increasingly mulish as Trillium turned down one after another. Finally she plopped down on the chair next to Trillium's and heaved a reproachful sigh.
"Really, dear--what will you do on your wedding day, walk naked down the aisle?" she exclaimed, unable to hide her exasperation. "Nothing shiny, no ruffles, no glitter, no this, no that--" She threw her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Very well, then--is there anything at all in the shop that you do like?"
Trillium patted Minerva's hand. "I'm sure there is," she said bracingly. "Dear Minerva, I am sorry to be such a trial to you. You sit down here and rest your feet for a bit, and I'll have another look round." She got up and wandered about the room, looking through racks of dozens of dresses, most of them boringly white. She sighed.
But wait, now--she flipped back a couple of dresses, looking for whatever it was that had caught her eye. She found it and drew the hanger off the rack, placing it on a hook above so she could spread out the skirts. She stood and stared. It was--it was--
"Oh, my dear," Minerva breathed beside her. "It's perfect."
So it was. Hundreds of tiny pleats made up a full skirt that fanned out from the narrow waist. Yes, it was white, but it shimmered with an almost pearlescent sheen, teasing the eye with subtle glimpses of color that seemed to disappear if looked at directly. Was it the way the light hit the fabric? They turned it this way and that. No, they decided, there was definitely something magical about it.
As they were examining it, the shopkeeper joined them. "Oh, yes, lovely work," she gushed. "Veela-made, you know--from Bulgaria." She sighed wistfully. "It's no wonder they can hold men spellbound, wearing things like this."
"We'll take it!" Trillium and Minerva said as one. They hugged each other happily. The dread challenge of The Dress had been met and mastered.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - --
At nine-fifteen, Trillium slipped into the dress and a pair of white satin half-boots with mother-of-pearl buttons.
"Minerva, would you be a dear and go check on Father?" she asked as she fastened a pair of small gold earrings with fat white pearls in her ears. "He loses track of the time, you know, and I don't want that to happen, today of all days!" She smiled her thanks into the mirror at Minerva.
Minerva bustled downstairs to find Archibald. As she went through room after room and found no sign of him, she grew at first annoyed, then concerned. He was not in the Gentlemen's Library, either, Severus informed her when she knocked on the door of that bastion of male solitude. At her report that Archibald was nowhere to be found in the house, he and Harry looked a bit alarmed as well.
"Oh dear," Minerva said distractedly. "What on earth can have happened to him? Drat the man!"
Just then they became aware of a commotion in the entry hall. "Goodness--what now?" she snapped. Then she gasped. The missing Archibald was back--and with him was a surprising late arrival, come to attend the wedding.
"Aunt Petunia?" Harry cried in amazement. For it was none other than Petunia Dursley who hovered uncertainly behind Archibald, looking out of place even in her dressy wedding-guest outfit that clearly marked her as a Muggle.
"H-hello, Harry," she said with a tremulous smile. She glanced anxiously at Archibald, then back at Harry. "Father--er--thought I ought to be here for Trillium's wedding. And I rather wanted to come, so--" She laughed nervously. "Here I am!" She looked about as uncomfortable as someone in her position could be expected to look.
Harry took pity on her. "We're glad you're here, Aunt Petunia." He looked around expectantly. "Are Uncle Vernon and Dudley coming, too?"
"Oh! Good heavens, no," she said, sounding horrified. Then, more firmly, "No, Vernon didn't--er--care to come, so it's just me." I'll just bet he didn't, thought Harry, but he was happy to hear it.
He took Petunia's arm courteously and drew her forward. "Aunt Petunia, may I present Professor Snape--Severus Snape," he said very properly. Severus bowed; Petunia was uncertain just how to respond, but then he held out his hand. She took it gratefully, appearing rather awed to be shaking hands with an actual wizard.
Harry relaxed. He realized he had been holding his breath, expecting to see some sign of the scorn Petunia had always expressed toward the wizarding world. But she was as personable as he could have hoped for, if a little shy amid her surroundings. He introduced her to Minerva, who greeted her somewhat reservedly, but cordially nonetheless.
Just then Mr and Mrs Weasley came in from the garden. Arthur's eyes lit up when he spotted Petunia, the only Muggle at the wedding, and he hurried over to re-introduce himself. Molly hurried over to Minerva.
"It's nearly time," she whispered. "Is Trillium ready?"
"I believe so," Minerva said. Belatedly she realized that Trillium was still unaware of Archibald's return--not to mention the guest he had brought with him. "I'll just fetch her down. Would you see that Archibald--" She made motions indicating that he might need a quick brush-up.
"Oh! Of course," Molly said. "You go on. I'll take care of it." She bustled over to Archibald and began fussing round him, fixing the collar of his dress robes and brushing a small bit of ash off the back from when he had traveled via Floo Network to the Dursleys' house and back. Minerva, satisfied he was in good hands, hurried up the stairs to reassure Trillium and let her know it was time to come down.
Snape and Harry emerged from the Gentlemen's Library. Both were resplendent in new dress robes--Snape with green satin lapels and silver buttons, Harry with crimson lapels and gold buttons. Dumbledore, who was to perform the ceremony, collected them and took them outside to wait at the end of the garden path, which had been strewn with multicolored rose petals from the garden.
Trillium came down the stairs just as Arthur Weasley was escorting Petunia out to a seat in the garden. When she realized who she was looking at, she stopped in shock.
"Petunia?" she whispered in disbelief. Petunia turned slowly and caught her breath. Trillium was beautiful, the dress fitting her as if it had been made just for her--likely another effect of its Veela manufacture. Her hair was piled on her head in a soft pompadour รก la Gibson girl, had such a phenomenon been known in the wizarding world. She was stunning, ethereal.
Quite a sight to behold, especially when seeing one's little sister for the first time ever.
Petunia's eyes filled, and her face crumpled. "Oh--Trillium!" she sobbed, handkerchief to her face. Trillium's soft heart melted. Today she was too happy to hold a grudge against anyone--even Petunia, especially considering she'd come more than her half of the way toward a reconciliation just by being here. The two sisters ran to each other, sobbing and laughing at the same time.
"Here, now," Archibald said finally. He pulled a large handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and patted at Trillium's face with it. Petunia managed a quick mop-up on her own, and more than one witness to the affecting scene surreptitiously wiped away tears of her own.
Minerva gave a loud sniff and sternly reverted to her usual brisk self. "Now then, we'd better move along," she said. Arthur gave Petunia his arm and led her out to sit with Molly and him. Minerva positioned Trillium and Archibald in the doorway, then turned to precede them down the aisle. A string quartet played softly off to one side, but Trillium didn't notice them. All the way down the aisle, she only had eyes for Severus.
As Severus only had eyes for her. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright with happiness for all the joy today was bringing. She had never looked lovelier, he thought, unable to take his eyes off her. The dress was nice, but it made no difference to him how long it had taken to find or who had made it--it was only a shell to house the Incomparable who wore it.
Trillium kept her eyes on his as she walked. When they reached the garden gate, Archibald placed a gentle kiss on her hand and then delivered it safely into Severus' waiting grasp. Then he went to sit with the Weasleys in the front row.
Harry and Minerva stood slightly behind the groom and bride. Harry looked over at her, a little over-awed by the majesty of the occasion. He was surprised to see her give him a little wink, and he nodded solemnly in return. Minerva masterfully hid her smile as she faced Dumbledore once more.
A wizard wedding is much the same as a Muggle wedding, although it is not performed by a member of the clergy but usually by some civil official or close friend of the couple. To Severus and Trillium it seemed entirely appropriate that Dumbledore should preside over their marriage. They knew he wished them well, and they both cared for him a great deal. They had been honored when he'd agreed to officiate.
Now Dumbledore held up his hands for silence, much as if this were the Great Hall at Hogwarts and he was about to deliver the after-dinner announcements.
"Friends," he said, "you have been invited to witness the marriage of Severus Snape and Trillium Lovejoy. They come before you today with the best of intentions and a love for each other that has grown strong through many trials."
He eyed the groom. "Severus--you have undergone terrors that most of us can only imagine, in order to help free the world from an evil that threatened us all. Your triumph means that you can now look forward to a lifetime with Trillium, showing her every day for the rest of your lives how much you treasure her love and friendship. It's a tall order, my friend; do you feel you can keep your end of the bargain?"
"I do." Severus' voice rang out; he wanted one and all to know his feelings on the subject.
Dumbledore then bent a fatherly smile on the bride. "Trillium, my dear--you have suffered greatly in the name of love, and you have made clear by your actions that you intend to stand by Severus through whatever difficulties may lie ahead. And knowing Severus, well..." The audience laughed appreciatively; Severus' face flushed and one dark eyebrow inched upward at the gentle teasing. "Do you," Dumbledore continued, "intend to support Severus and continue to love and honor him as he means to do for you, for the rest of your lives?"
"I do," she said softly. I really do, she mouthed silently to Severus. Several of the aunties engaged in hearty sniffing and wiping of noses at this juncture.
"Now, I understand the bride and groom wish to exchange rings," Dumbledore said. "Harry--Minerva?" The best man and the maid of honor stepped forward. Harry reached into his trouser pocket and withdrew a small object that sparkled in the sunlight. He handed it to Severus.
"Trillium," Severus began. There was a tender note in his voice that only one person present had ever been privileged to hear before. Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew that after this surprising glimpse of his humanity they would have a hard time seeing him as their surly Potions master once again when school started.
"I had this specially made for you," Severus said as he placed the ring on Trillium's finger. It fit perfectly. "Minerva helped me get the size right," he whispered, and Trillium beamed at him. "As you see," he explained, "it bears the Gryffindor lion, but the eyes are emeralds, for Slytherin. I think we bring the best of both houses to this marriage--Gryffindor courage, and Slytherin cleverness. I want only the best for you, Trillium. Always." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, sending a thrill all the way from her fingertips to her toes. Privately she hoped she wouldn't fall over and disgrace herself utterly.
"And I," she said, "had this made for you." She took the ring that Minerva held ready. "As you can see, it's a tiny potion vial." A tiny crystal vial, less than a quarter-inch tall, rested in a fine gold filigree frame. "The ruby inside the vial signifies my heart. It is in your hands, Severus. Always." She placed the ring on his finger and brought his hand up to her cheek for a moment.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "You have all heard a clear avowal of the bride and groom's feelings and intentions toward one another. I am happy to announce that they shall henceforth be known as Severus and Trillium Snape, husband and wife. Er--I believe you'll want to kiss your bride now, Severus."
Severus made a little show of reluctance, rolling his eyes and placing a chaste peck on Trillium's cheek. She put her hands on her hips and audibly tapped one toe on the paving stones. Severus laughed and swung back around, pulling her to him, and kissed her long and passionately. Wild applause broke out among the audience. The kiss was no joke, however; by the time Severus straightened back up, both he and Trillium were flushed and breathless.
"Wedding guests," Dumbledore cried, "you know your duty. To the meadow!" He waved his wand at the garden gate and it opened. Trillium and Severus walked a little way out into the meadow, followed by the wedding guests who formed two lines facing each other. "Wands up!" Dumbledore called, and wands were raised into the air to form a long, arched tunnel.
Severus and Trillium looked at each other, joined hands, and took a deep breath, then ducked low and ran under the arch. As they passed beneath the wands, a shower of multi-colored sparks shot out of each one, covering the bride and groom with a fine rain of confetti along with the good wishes of their friends.
They reached the far end, laughing and breathless. Harry and Minerva stood there with the couple's bags ready. They handed them over and stood back.
"Have a lovely time," Minerva said.
Harry nodded. "Congratulations!" he called. "See you in the autumn."
Severus and Trillium took one final look back at the people they loved. Then he held out his hand, she took it, and together the Snapes Apparated off to places unknown for their honeymoon.
Unknown even to Trillium, as Harry discovered. "Why was my aunt doing Side-Along Apparation?" he asked Minerva, puzzled, as they walked back to the garden to join the others for wedding cake.
"He told her the honeymoon was to be a surprise," she chuckled. "He absolutely refused to say where he was taking her! So Side-Along Apparation was the only way she could get there."
"Do you know where they're going?" Harry asked curiously. Severus had not volunteered the information, and Harry had not felt it quite proper to ask.
"As a matter of fact, I did manage to worm it out of him," Minerva said conspiratorially. "He's taking her to a little island in the Caribbean--just enough civilization to be civilized, but not so much that they have to socialize. He'll probably return to Howarts in the autumn with a tan--only fancy!"
The wedding cake was decadent--nearly three feet tall and all chocolate. On top was what at first appeared to be a traditional bride-and-groom cake figurine, but as the guests approached the figures began to move.
"Oh, look--they're waltzing!" Hermione exclaimed, enchanted. Upon closer inspection, the small figures proved to be perfect little replicas of Trillium and Severus, right down to the tiny wedding rings on their hands.
"D'you know, Hermione," Ron said casually, "Dad says it's traditional at Muggle weddings for the bride and groom to feed each other bits of cake by hand." He glanced at the cake and back at her, mischief in his eyes.
Hermione laughed. "Nice try, Ron. Now I'll know to be on my guard when it comes time for our wedding!" Molly Weasley's head whipped round when she heard this. She stared at them unnoticed, her jaw sagging, her plate dipping toward the ground so that her cake was in imminent danger of falling off. Hermione and Ron walked away, happily oblivious to the fact that they had virtually just made a public announcement of their intentions.
Harry looked around. He noticed Aunt Petunia standing by the gate, alone, one white-gloved finger absently moving back and forth over the gatepost. She looked a little forlorn. He circumvented a group of chattering aunties and went over to join her. She brightened when she saw him heading her way; it still surprised him that she seemed glad to see him, although he supposed it shouldn't, at least here where he was the only person she knew in a world that was very different from her own.
"I'm glad you came," he said hesitantly. "I think it made Aunt Trillium really happy."
Petunia smiled rather sadly. "Well--I wasn't going to at first, you know. But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to come. Just to see her, even if she wouldn't see me. Father was fairly persuasive, you see. And do you know, Harry, I--I seem to feel differently now than I used to. I'm not sure why, but there you are." She looked pensive. "I don't know that Vernon will ever--but there, it's not important. We are what we are, after all."
She sat down on the wall and looked up at Harry. "I have to say, I can't quite figure out what you are. It seems like everyone here looks up to you, even though you're only a boy. I don't know quite what to make of it all." She gave a rueful laugh. "Oh, Harry--I could avoid thinking about it at home, but now that I'm here among all your friends I have the most dreadful feeling. I-I've been such a fool all these years." Harry started to say something soothing, but she stopped him. "Oh, no, don't try to cover it up. I don't mind admitting it." She looked around at the guests. "Everyone's been nothing but kind to me. I'm not sure what I expected, but it wasn't kindness. They seem almost..."
"Normal?" Harry supplied drily.
Petunia sighed. "You see? I didn't really mean it the way it sounded, but look how it came out all the same. It's all just so--so--well, I mean, what do I do now?" she looked at him helplessly.
Harry took her literally. "Er--if you want to go home, I can take you," he offered.
Petunia gave a watery laugh. "No, that's not what I mean," she said.
"I think what she wants to ask, Harry," said Archibald, who had come up behind them, "is, how should she act now she's found out the wizarding world's not full of freaks, as she thought, and she finds she's welcome among us." He turned to Petunia.
"Good gad, m'dear, it's just like anywhere else in the world--treat people well, and they'll do the same for you. Not all that difficult, surely? If what you're really wondering is whether you'll be welcome back here again--why, of course you will. You're every bit as much my daughter as Trillium is, or Lily, even if you were rather late in choosing to admit it." He patted her shoulder. "See here, the guests will be leaving soon, but perhaps you'd like to stay and visit for a bit? I'd be happy to see you home later, if that suits."
"Why--why, yes, that would be very nice," Petunia murmured. "Thank you...Father."
Ron and Hermione joined Harry as he walked round the edge of the meadow, idly pacing off a Quidditch pitch for the next time he visited.
"So," Ron said, "I guess that's it, then. They're off. When school starts--wow, I can hardly imagine it--Snape will be a married man." He shook his head in wonder. "Who'd have thought it?"
"Who, indeed," Hermione echoed. "So many impossible things have happened this year that I'm afraid we're going to find any little adventures we have from now on quite commonplace after this."
Harry looked at Ron. They each slung an arm over Hermione's shoulders.
"No, we won't," Harry said with assurance. "We still have loads of adventures ahead of us, and I do hereby solemnly swear to you, Hermione Granger, that you will enjoy each and every one of them." She still looked a bit doubtful. "Well," he amended, "at least you'll never be bored!"
And she never was.