2.
Hunger was an annoying sensation which Severus tried not to pander to, but
which would eventually disrupt his concentration to an unacceptable degree if
he continued to ignore it. He remembered ordering something from the kitchen,
and saw that it had arrived, though he had yet to check under the absurd little
silver dome.
It turned out he'd asked for turkey sandwiches. The house elves knew him too
well, for they spelled the food to keep it fresh for several hours. At the
first bite, however, Severus remembered why he usually did not eat in his
workroom. He spat out the offending mouthful and went and washed his hands
before taking the tray and moving it away from the cauldron, which bubbled with
an experimental bio-boost potion.
"There has to be an alternate recipe," he told the sandwiches as he sat down
near the hearth. "A Longbottom-proof alternate." Unfortunately, bio-boost was a
milder version of pepper-up, and required similarly volatile ingredients.
Severus stared into the flames as he ate, occasionally forgetting to chew,
turning over the problem in his mind. These few weeks in the middle of summer
holidays were his favourite. Just long enough after end of the school year to
relax and recover from any last-minute Longbottom-induced explosions, and just
long enough before start of classes that the tension headaches had yet to set
in.
His dreamy contemplation was interrupted by the arrival of an owl. A Gringott's
owl. Severus scowled, and thought back to his last shopping trip to Slug and
Jiggers apothecary. Surely he hadn't spent enough to overdraft his vault?
The owl held out a delicately taloned foot, and he stripped the message from
it.
*_Professor Severus Snape_, you are hereby notified that the conditions
delineated in the betrothal contract dated the _11th_ day, _December_, of the
year _1980_, have been met. The applicant, _Lucius Avernus Malfoy_, has
affirmed his intent to honour the contract, and the ceremony will take place
the _31st_ day, July, of the year _1996_. Your presence at the ceremony is
optional.
Pitonschist, Department of Domestic Forms and Contracts, Gringott's.*
Severus read the message again, wondering why Gringott's would notify him of
Lucius Malfoy's betrothal. What had happened to Narcissa? And why had Lucius
signed a betrothal agreement four years after he married her?
Shaking his head, Severus set the notice aside. Much as he liked Draco, he
couldn't stand the boy's father, and he certainly would not attend his wedding
-- particularly on such short notice.
Behind him, the cauldron gave a mighty -- and very wet -- burp, spraying the
room with dull, yellow goo.
"Too much ginger," Severus said, and wiped the botched potion from his face
with his handkerchief.
* * * * *
"So!" Crane said brightly. "We have Mr Rappelhorn and Mr Parish--" He waved at
the other ministry wizard. "--as witnesses, although I'm sure Mr and Mrs
Dursley will want to sign as well. The ceremony must be completed before
midnight, so chop chop!"
Malfoy gave a disgusted snort, and rose to stand beside Harry.
Crane beamed, and produced a small, blue book. The gold lettering read: *Rytes,
Rituales, and Ceremonyes for the Wizarde of the Peace, 1552-1909*. "We
congregate under Merlin's law to celebrate a new union--"
"You can't do this, it's barbaric!" Harry shouted.
"A little old-fashioned," Malfoy said, gesturing for Crane to keep speaking.
"Not used since the turn of the century, in fact, but the betrothal laws have
never been repealed. Come now, Harry, chin up. Where's that Gryffindor
courage?"
"--is a sacred bond, passed down to us by ancestral deities who revered the act
of--"
"Harry's getting married?" Dudley asked, peering in from the hall. "To a man?"
He burst into loud laughter.
"You've all gone mad," Harry said. "Snape's not my father, so how can he...
*sell* me like this?"
"--blessed by Hestia herself, sealed in modern magical law when Merlin took the
fair Nimue--"
"I've no idea how it came about." Malfoy tossed his hair, and frowned at the
mantle. He seemed to be appraising the trinkets lined along it. "I only know
that the owl advised me the conditions of the contract would come to fruition
on this day, and named you as my potential betrothed."
"Now see here," Vernon said. "If you, er, marry the boy... you'll be... taking
him away, then?"
"He certainly won't stay here," Malfoy said, glaring.
"--to pass the gift of magic on to your progeny, to uphold the laws of Merlin,
to honour the vows of Athena--"
"Well, be certain you take all his devil's tools with you. I want my house free
of witchcraft when he leaves."
"But Snape's *not* my father," Harry all but screamed.
"On the contrary." Malfoy rapped the top of Harry's head with the stick.
"Really, Harry, I understand you were raised by muggles, but you've had five
years to overcome that unfortunate handicap. Exactly what part of 'magical
contract' do you not comprehend, hmm? However it came about, you *are* dear
Severus' son, and the contract knows it. Ah, I do."
"And does Harold James Potter consent to--"
"No! I don't!" Harry said, but the goblin, Rappelhorn, stepped forward.
"He does, per the will of his biological and magical father, one Severus Snape,
as witnessed and notarized by myself on the eleventh day of December, in the
year nineteen-hundred eighty."
The contract burned in Harry's grip, and he realized he was crushing it. Teeth
bared, he tore purposefully at the hated document, but the parchment flared
white-hot in his hands.
"Unbreakable," Malfoy whispered in his ear.
"--then by the authority vested in me by the British Ministry of Magic, I
pronounce you legally wed. Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Crane smiled, and
tucked the book away. "And it looks like we'll have time to stop for a pint
before the missus expects me home, eh, Bill?" He elbowed Parish, who had been
scribbling with a quill and parchment throughout the ceremony.
"Sign here, Mr Malfoy," Parish said, the first he'd spoken all night. "And you,
too, Mr Rappelhorn. Mr Dursley? Mrs Dursley?"
Vernon and Petunia, despite holding the quill as though it were a live snake,
appeared quite cheerful as they signed. Rappelhorn rolled up the betrothal
contract and handed it to Malfoy, while Parish duplicated the marriage license
with a flick of his wand. He gave one copy to Malfoy, and tucked the other into
a satchel bulging with scrolls, which he then shrunk and placed in his pocket.
"Congratulations, Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter," Crane said, shaking Malfoy's hand. He
didn't even attempt to touch Harry again. "Come on, Bill. The Leaky Cauldron
closes early on Wednesdays."
"His stuff's in the second bedroom on the right," Vernon said, sitting on the
couch and flicking on the television. "His school trunk's under the stairs.
Make sure you take that bloody owl as well."
Malfoy stared down his nose at Vernon. He seemed offended at the insinuation
they pack Harry's things themselves. "A house-elf will be along shortly to
collect Harry's belongings."
The air, already close, thickened until Harry could feel it pouring down his
throat, anger and shock battling for control of his tongue. Malfoy slid an arm
around his waist as he wobbled, the support steady but far too familiar for
Harry's liking.
"Don't touch me," he whispered, but Malfoy ignored him.
"I almost forgot, my dear. This is for you." Malfoy produced a small box, and
through a feat of graceful juggling managed to take out a ring and slide it
onto Harry's finger, all without removing his arm from its presumptuous place
at Harry's waist.
Understanding now how Sirius could have laughed as the aurors took him away,
Harry ignored his aunt's envious gasp. The thick band of white gold, topped
with a crystal-clear emerald the size of his smallest fingernail, only weighed
on his hand, a heavy reminder of the second-worst night of his life.
TBC
Hunger was an annoying sensation which Severus tried not to pander to, but
which would eventually disrupt his concentration to an unacceptable degree if
he continued to ignore it. He remembered ordering something from the kitchen,
and saw that it had arrived, though he had yet to check under the absurd little
silver dome.
It turned out he'd asked for turkey sandwiches. The house elves knew him too
well, for they spelled the food to keep it fresh for several hours. At the
first bite, however, Severus remembered why he usually did not eat in his
workroom. He spat out the offending mouthful and went and washed his hands
before taking the tray and moving it away from the cauldron, which bubbled with
an experimental bio-boost potion.
"There has to be an alternate recipe," he told the sandwiches as he sat down
near the hearth. "A Longbottom-proof alternate." Unfortunately, bio-boost was a
milder version of pepper-up, and required similarly volatile ingredients.
Severus stared into the flames as he ate, occasionally forgetting to chew,
turning over the problem in his mind. These few weeks in the middle of summer
holidays were his favourite. Just long enough after end of the school year to
relax and recover from any last-minute Longbottom-induced explosions, and just
long enough before start of classes that the tension headaches had yet to set
in.
His dreamy contemplation was interrupted by the arrival of an owl. A Gringott's
owl. Severus scowled, and thought back to his last shopping trip to Slug and
Jiggers apothecary. Surely he hadn't spent enough to overdraft his vault?
The owl held out a delicately taloned foot, and he stripped the message from
it.
*_Professor Severus Snape_, you are hereby notified that the conditions
delineated in the betrothal contract dated the _11th_ day, _December_, of the
year _1980_, have been met. The applicant, _Lucius Avernus Malfoy_, has
affirmed his intent to honour the contract, and the ceremony will take place
the _31st_ day, July, of the year _1996_. Your presence at the ceremony is
optional.
Pitonschist, Department of Domestic Forms and Contracts, Gringott's.*
Severus read the message again, wondering why Gringott's would notify him of
Lucius Malfoy's betrothal. What had happened to Narcissa? And why had Lucius
signed a betrothal agreement four years after he married her?
Shaking his head, Severus set the notice aside. Much as he liked Draco, he
couldn't stand the boy's father, and he certainly would not attend his wedding
-- particularly on such short notice.
Behind him, the cauldron gave a mighty -- and very wet -- burp, spraying the
room with dull, yellow goo.
"Too much ginger," Severus said, and wiped the botched potion from his face
with his handkerchief.
* * * * *
"So!" Crane said brightly. "We have Mr Rappelhorn and Mr Parish--" He waved at
the other ministry wizard. "--as witnesses, although I'm sure Mr and Mrs
Dursley will want to sign as well. The ceremony must be completed before
midnight, so chop chop!"
Malfoy gave a disgusted snort, and rose to stand beside Harry.
Crane beamed, and produced a small, blue book. The gold lettering read: *Rytes,
Rituales, and Ceremonyes for the Wizarde of the Peace, 1552-1909*. "We
congregate under Merlin's law to celebrate a new union--"
"You can't do this, it's barbaric!" Harry shouted.
"A little old-fashioned," Malfoy said, gesturing for Crane to keep speaking.
"Not used since the turn of the century, in fact, but the betrothal laws have
never been repealed. Come now, Harry, chin up. Where's that Gryffindor
courage?"
"--is a sacred bond, passed down to us by ancestral deities who revered the act
of--"
"Harry's getting married?" Dudley asked, peering in from the hall. "To a man?"
He burst into loud laughter.
"You've all gone mad," Harry said. "Snape's not my father, so how can he...
*sell* me like this?"
"--blessed by Hestia herself, sealed in modern magical law when Merlin took the
fair Nimue--"
"I've no idea how it came about." Malfoy tossed his hair, and frowned at the
mantle. He seemed to be appraising the trinkets lined along it. "I only know
that the owl advised me the conditions of the contract would come to fruition
on this day, and named you as my potential betrothed."
"Now see here," Vernon said. "If you, er, marry the boy... you'll be... taking
him away, then?"
"He certainly won't stay here," Malfoy said, glaring.
"--to pass the gift of magic on to your progeny, to uphold the laws of Merlin,
to honour the vows of Athena--"
"Well, be certain you take all his devil's tools with you. I want my house free
of witchcraft when he leaves."
"But Snape's *not* my father," Harry all but screamed.
"On the contrary." Malfoy rapped the top of Harry's head with the stick.
"Really, Harry, I understand you were raised by muggles, but you've had five
years to overcome that unfortunate handicap. Exactly what part of 'magical
contract' do you not comprehend, hmm? However it came about, you *are* dear
Severus' son, and the contract knows it. Ah, I do."
"And does Harold James Potter consent to--"
"No! I don't!" Harry said, but the goblin, Rappelhorn, stepped forward.
"He does, per the will of his biological and magical father, one Severus Snape,
as witnessed and notarized by myself on the eleventh day of December, in the
year nineteen-hundred eighty."
The contract burned in Harry's grip, and he realized he was crushing it. Teeth
bared, he tore purposefully at the hated document, but the parchment flared
white-hot in his hands.
"Unbreakable," Malfoy whispered in his ear.
"--then by the authority vested in me by the British Ministry of Magic, I
pronounce you legally wed. Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Crane smiled, and
tucked the book away. "And it looks like we'll have time to stop for a pint
before the missus expects me home, eh, Bill?" He elbowed Parish, who had been
scribbling with a quill and parchment throughout the ceremony.
"Sign here, Mr Malfoy," Parish said, the first he'd spoken all night. "And you,
too, Mr Rappelhorn. Mr Dursley? Mrs Dursley?"
Vernon and Petunia, despite holding the quill as though it were a live snake,
appeared quite cheerful as they signed. Rappelhorn rolled up the betrothal
contract and handed it to Malfoy, while Parish duplicated the marriage license
with a flick of his wand. He gave one copy to Malfoy, and tucked the other into
a satchel bulging with scrolls, which he then shrunk and placed in his pocket.
"Congratulations, Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter," Crane said, shaking Malfoy's hand. He
didn't even attempt to touch Harry again. "Come on, Bill. The Leaky Cauldron
closes early on Wednesdays."
"His stuff's in the second bedroom on the right," Vernon said, sitting on the
couch and flicking on the television. "His school trunk's under the stairs.
Make sure you take that bloody owl as well."
Malfoy stared down his nose at Vernon. He seemed offended at the insinuation
they pack Harry's things themselves. "A house-elf will be along shortly to
collect Harry's belongings."
The air, already close, thickened until Harry could feel it pouring down his
throat, anger and shock battling for control of his tongue. Malfoy slid an arm
around his waist as he wobbled, the support steady but far too familiar for
Harry's liking.
"Don't touch me," he whispered, but Malfoy ignored him.
"I almost forgot, my dear. This is for you." Malfoy produced a small box, and
through a feat of graceful juggling managed to take out a ring and slide it
onto Harry's finger, all without removing his arm from its presumptuous place
at Harry's waist.
Understanding now how Sirius could have laughed as the aurors took him away,
Harry ignored his aunt's envious gasp. The thick band of white gold, topped
with a crystal-clear emerald the size of his smallest fingernail, only weighed
on his hand, a heavy reminder of the second-worst night of his life.
TBC