He settles against the wall, savouring his champagne, watching Harry spinning Hermione around and around on the dance floor. A raucous number had begun, and the floor was packed. Harry and Hermione laugh hysterically and look a little intoxicated.
By all accounts, their engagement party seems to be a roaring success.
Cameras are banned and the albino peacocks have been shut up for the night, somewhat reducing the ostentatiousness of the place. Hagrid throws his head back in laughter at something Minerva said. He catches sight of Teddy in his new blue dress robes, dashing away from Narcissa, and obscures a smirk behind his champagne flute. As Ted disappears into the crowd, his gaze returns to Harry-watching.
Not taking his eyes off his lover, he nods in acknowledgement at Lucius's approach.
"Good evening, Severus. I trust you are enjoying yourself?"
"I was never much for parties."
"Or small talk."
Severus barks out a laugh. "Indeed."
"You must be pleased," he says, nodding in Harry's direction.
Severus looks at him askance. "Speak plainly."
Fiddling with the lace cuff of his elaborate robes, Lucius says, "You are an intelligent man."
"This is not some great machination," he snaps. "He sought me out."
"Be that as it may, it is a most excellent match for you."
He isn't wrong.
Severus drains his drink and places it on the tray of a tiny house-elf, and Lucius picks up a vol-au-vent.
"You do not wish to dance?" Lucius asks, biting into the pastry with his little finger raised.
"You know I don't dance," Severus says. "Unless Harry persuades me," he qualifies.
Lucius raises an eyebrow. "And you do not mind that he is in the arms of a Muggle-born?"
His throat is aching, his feet hurt from all the standing, and he scowls. "Sometimes I think you don't know me at all."
Lucius swallows the rest of the pastry and smirks at him. "I was not referring to your blood status preferences, but to your, ah, dependable attentiveness."
"Of course I am jealous. But look at him—he's so happy."
They watch them both laughing and dancing, Hermione catching the crook of his elbow when he stumbles, and then beckoning over Ron and Fleur.
"He is," Lucius concedes. He gives Severus a teasing look. "You're like his black shadow, skulking in the corner and not taking your eyes off him."
"You need an eye examination. You will find that I am not wearing black."
He sniffs. "Grey isn't a colour."
"Have you grown so accustomed to your soulmate, that you tire of watching her?"
"Certainly not," Lucius says sharply. "She is the brightest jewel in the room." He points through the throng with his cane. "There she is, dancing with our son." Severus sees a moment of platinum-blonde hair, Teddy on her hip, and wide smiles. "She is in her element. Thank you for letting her host this."
"I wasn't aware I had much choice in the matter. Especially since Harry is on good terms with Draco."
"Any friend of Draco's is a friend of the family."
He can't help but to rub it in, so says, "It must be quite a shock to the system, to receive your first Muggle visitor."
They both look towards Arthur and Mr. Lovegood in deep discussion with Harry's useless cousin. Earlier he overheard the words, 'Floppy Disk'.
Lucius affords him a strained smile. "As I said," he says tightly. "Any of your guests are welcome. Statute of Secrecy Act or not."
Lucius was a peculiar man. But at least Severus knew where he stood.
They need not wait until the sale of number seventeen Spinner's End to go house-hunting. Harry is wealthy, and remote country homes are a lot cheaper as they are not well-connected to Muggle transport links.
Harry was rather vague about what he might like, and so the options were truly endless. They Apparate around the entirety of Britain, peering in the windows of estate agents after work, and it feels like the thirty-ninth house they view when they give each other a knowing nod.
There are several bedrooms, bathrooms, and spacious reception rooms. There's no basement (not something a dash of magic can't fix), a plastic bucket collects rainwater from the hole in the roof, and the carpets need replacing. However, there's a gigantic fireplace in the hall, Muggle kitchen appliances galore, and even a cat flap.
They stand in the garden outside, and of course Harry mutters, "It's got a cat flap!" in his ear.
Elm trees crown the extensive grounds, and sunset flames through the leaves.
Severus gives a long-suffering sigh, but it's all for show. He'll live anywhere Harry is.
"Is the sky at night clear enough for astronomy?" Severus asks.
"Ah, I would probably expect that it maybe would be, yes," the estate agent says, who clearly has no clue.
He casts his eyes around, wondering where the protective enchantments would go.
"How close are the nearest neighbours?"
"Not too far away, I should imagine."
Harry squeezes his hand to stop him replying rudely.
Her eyes go wide when Harry points out where their orangery, chemistry lab and indoor swimming pool can go.
"Don't forget our white peacocks, and the sports stadium," Severus adds, for the estate agent's benefit. "Let us discuss further tonight. I think we've seen enough."
"We really like it!" Harry says.
"Oh!" she says. "Excellent. Of course."
"Yes, well, if we want to buy it, we'll let you know."
She shakes their hands. "Terrific! Do you need a lift into town? I suppose you got a taxi?"
"We did," Harry butts in, before Severus can speak. "But we'll go for a walk around the, er, neighbourhood. Area."
"Right," she nods. "There's a telephone box in Morston-upon-the-Wold."
Harry says bye and drags him off before Severus can tell her that he has the coins for it. "Let's see how, er, secluded this place is," Harry mutters in his ear.
Within a month, they were fitted for their robes, invites were sent, and Howlers were received. In between wedding preparations, they waited impatiently for the Muggle conveyancer, and Land Registry and Local Authority surveys, whilst surreptitiously working on the protective enchantments and fixing the hole in the roof of Morleigh Farm. Then life was all about calming Teddy down, tasting cake, buying wine and holiday clothes and flip-flops. After bonding, they were to go to the grounds of Shell Cottage to eat and drink and dance, before being whisked off on honeymoon to Black Island.
It's eleven o'clock, and Harry spent most of the morning pretending to sleep, head pillowed on Severus's growling stomach. They're subdued in the shower, Harry washing Severus's hair, and then they stand in each other's arms under the cascading water. By the time they're dressed in their silver bonding robes, they have said little to each other at all.
Harry smiles at him and says, "You look…" Ridiculous? Silly? "…very, very nice."
"You look resplendent."
"Yeah, you too. That's what I meant."
Severus snorts and holds out a hand.
They arrive by Floo at the Ministry, and scores of people are there to cheer.
Countless Weasleys, the Lovegoods, Longbottom and his grandmother. Madam Jennings and the Serious Patents Office, and the lady from the coffee kiosk clap. He spots Septima, Aurora, Argus. Mrs. Tonks and a giggling Teddy. Mike holds up a portrait of Grandma who dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief. He couldn't help but feel a flicker of sadness at the sight of Poppy with a scarf tied around her hair like his mother used to do. He sees photographers and reporters, a dozen Aurors in scarlet robes, and the Minister for Magic.
Their bonding day is Hallowe'en, on what would normally be a quiet Wednesday, and ghosts that have congregated for the occasion and pumpkins with candles glowing inside line the way.
Severus doesn't know where to look, so looks at Harry.
"I'm missing the Deathday Party for this," he hears a ghost say.
He is not comfortable with press attention. It is as though he is in the centre of a throng singing 'happy birthday' and it's for him and he doesn't know who to make eye contact with or what to do or whether he should join in.
He settles his hand on Harry's waist, other hand gripping the wand in his pocket, eyes darting around for danger.
The crowd parts for them both and in all the commotion, Eric the Watchwizard does not ask to weigh Harry's wand, or give him a square silver badge with Harry Potter, Bonding Ceremony.
The clamour of the cheering crowd is silenced after he presses number nine and the golden grilles slide shut.
At once, his arms are full of his Harry, tousled head buried in Severus's neck.
"Are you all right?" Severus asks, raising his voice over the clatter of the lift.
"Yeah."
"Department of Mysteries," says the cool female voice, and they both step out.
Nothing moves except the nearest torches, flickering in the rush of the air from the lift. A plain black door stands at the end of the corridor, vaguely familiar to him from Occlumency lessons.
Severus rubs his thumb over Harry's hand, who looks at him sadly. "Do you…still want to go through with it?"
Harry scoffs. "Ask me again and I'll throttle you. It's just…"
"Your godfather."
"Yeah," Harry mutters.
Severus interlinks their fingers. "I'll do everything in my power to make you happy."
"I already am, Sev." Harry smiles at him, and pulls them forward, past the stone archway on the left that leads down to the courtrooms. When they reach the door, it opens at his touch.
They are in a large, circular room, and everything is black.
"You're late," a grim-faced Unspeakable says.
"Er, sorry," Harry says.
They follow the man into a modest room with a handle-less door, and he sits at a desk. There are no guest chairs.
"Names?"
"Harry Potter and Severus Snape," Harry says.
His eyes flicker up to the lightning bolt scar. "Wands?"
Severus is reluctant to give his wand to a complete stranger, and watches closely as the man measures them, writes something on a scroll, and hands them back.
"You're not bonded to anyone else, and you've not been coerced?"
"Uh, no."
"No."
The Unspeakable scowls at them both in turn, and ticks some boxes on the parchment. "Do you know what to do? Did you read the leaflet when you booked?"
"Yes," Severus says.
"You remembered your rings?"
"Yes," Severus says. "Tell me what you enjoy most about working in the Department of Mysteries."
Harry hisses, "Severus, not now."
"One cannot speak about one's work as an Unspeakable, Professor Snape. I'm sure you of all people would understand." He smiles tightly and says, "Follow me."
He leads them out to the circular room, and the blue flames of the sconces blur into a neon line as the wall speeds around them.
The man picks a door seemingly at random, and they are in another black room. Their silver bonding robes look like ghostly reflections as though there is dark water underfoot.
He gestures to an unmarked door. "This is the Bonding Room. Congratulations," he drones. "You've got fifteen minutes to say your vows, exchange rings and perform the rite. We charge late fees."
Severus takes off Harry's glasses and puts a hand over his eyes, and murmurs into his ear, "Brace yourself, Grandma tells me it is quite spectacular."
He shoulders the door open, and their footsteps echo in the vast space as he guides Harry to the centre of the chamber.
"Close your eyes, kneel here." He removes his hands and kneels before him. Harry's robes flow out around him like a small pond, and he smiles sweetly as Severus leaves light kisses all over his nose and cheeks.
"So obedient. Wish you were like this in school."
"Oi!"
Severus replaces his glasses.
"Open your eyes, Harry."
He does.
He gasps.
They kneel in a vast cylindrical chamber encircled by large granite Corinthian columns. Directly above them lies a dome with an oculus revealing a curiously coloured lilac sky.
Gilded bronze rosettes are sunk into every seventh panel surrounding them, and above the panels lay countless runic engravings.
The spotlight beaming down on them from the strange purple sky enhances Severus's feeling that he is in a dream. It warms his skin. Dust motes dance around Harry's chaotic hair.
"Incredible."
"Absolutely," Severus says, his eyes on Harry. He is, he is.
With no hesitation, Harry puts on his bonding ring and reaches out his left palm. Severus wears his too, and grasps his hand. The rings are large and don't fit.
"You saved my life like this, once," Harry says, with a squeeze of his hand. "And we woke up in bed together the next day, remember?"
"And now I give you my life," Severus says, drawing his wand.
Harry smiles and looks at the sky. "Has the room recognised us yet?"
"Not yet. Remember not to say anything stupid."
"Remember that yourself."
"Ah. Here we are."
Silver bands of light snake around their clasped hands, and they stare at them, enthralled.
They don't have long. Severus speaks first. "I pledge to bond with you," he says.
"And I, you."
Severus flicks his wand as though dislodging a fly off the end, and golden ribbon shoots out to form the words of their vows.
He traces tiny circles with his forefinger on Harry's inside wrist.
Severus's eyes do not need to flicker to the vows, as he has had twenty-five years to memorise them. He says with determination, "Entreat me not to abandon or turn away from you." Harry nods. "Where you go, I will go; and where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your family my family." Harry's eyes fill with tears. "Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May my magic deal with me severely if I allow anything but death to separate you and me."
The silver bands multiply like a fiery snake.
As Harry repeats the vows back to Severus, he is mesmerised, just mesmerised by everything: the love in Harry's echoing voice, the green of his mother's eyes, the cool silver fire lighting up his face. He looks like an angel. With each word, warm silver chains flow around their wrists towards their soulmark space.
I love you, he sends to Harry's arm.
When he's finished, Severus says, "Should I die first, I will comfort and protect you in your dreams for as long as you need me."
"And I, you. I love you, Severus."
Severus's arm tingles in harmony. This isn't part of the ritual, but he looks into Harry's eyes and says, "I love you, truly."
They both touch the silver fire with the tips of their wands.
Their wedding rings shrink to fit snugly, and the chains of light twinkles gold and dissipates.
They both drop their hands and reach for each other at once, and they are kissing, desperately at first, then gently, before resting their lips on the other's. "I love you, Harry. I love you. I love you," he breathes on Harry's lips.
They leave and it is a blur.
They eat cake, pop open a bottle of champagne, and take off their shoes and socks to sink their toes into the sand.
It's hard to dance in the shallows of the sea, their robes sodden, and Teddy splashing them as he jumps up and down nearby. In the seawater's reflection, they look like one being. Their silver robes sparkle when they sway together, and in the rolling waves he can't see where he ends and Harry begins.
There's somewhat of an exodus from the Hogwarts kitchens, as the house-elves show them a traditional celebratory dance, and Minerva takes it with good grace before she leaves with them to attend the Hallowe'en feast at the castle.
Columns of fire warm them on the crisp October afternoon. The queue for the barbecue is immense, and when the crowds get too much, Severus kneels beside Teddy to advise him on his sandcastle. He casts Aguamenti when necessary and intervenes when Fang tries to join in.
Severus's face hurt as he had smiled so much that day. He had held Harry's hand for virtually every minute, and it's with no small measure of relief when it's time to leave.
Their Portkey from the Ministry is a lucky horseshoe, and the crowd surrounds them to say their goodbyes. Mr. Jordan thrusts their trunks into their hands with a troubling wink, and Mrs. Weasley cries, "Don't forget your shoes!"
They've still got two minutes, and Bill rushes over with wedding cake he's wrapped hastily in a napkin.
"Thank you," Severus says.
Bill claps him on the back and knows what he means.
Thank you for taking care of Harry when he needed you.
Thank you for everything.