Hello, my dear friends, I just wanted to thank you all for your amazing reviews.
I must be grateful for Lily Malfoy's help. A special kiss to Casi and Kairi my amazing BIFF's! AND…
…Well… here it is….chapter 7; enjoy!
Chapter 7: Wedding days always make me cry
Nearly two hours had passed since the little talk Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Harry had shared. She was deeply hurt, but something about the separation felt like a refreshing breeze. She was no longer in debt; she was as guilty as they were.
So far, the only friendly face she had seen was Ginny's who had proven her true devotion.
Hermione was wearing a black robe, but not Hogwarts style. She was wearing a black robe with at least 30 buttons that started 2 inches under her belly-button and ended where her neck started. It was also long enough for her to step on it, but the movement her skirt provided made it less probable. It was the kind of robe Snape usually wore and she thought it would suit perfectly with her mood.
Black for death, misery and marriage.
"Excuse me, dear," Minerva McGonagall said, gently knocking on the door. Hermione was getting ready in Green House number 3, as the wedding would take place in an alley not far from Hermione's current location. No student should be allowed, except those who had the express consent of Dumbledore. He was the couple's secret keeper, after all. "I was wondering if I could sew this white ribbon to your robes," she requested, showing her the needle, the string, and of course the ribbon.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall," she answered without hesitation. Little did she know what the white ribbon represented. She asked no questions. She would trust her Head of House with her life.
"Oh, Dear, are you nervous?" Professor McGonagall asked while sewing the white piece of cloth on Hermione's chest.
"Oh, no, Professor McGonagall, I see no reason to be nervous," she simply replied while trying several charms on her hair.
"Well, Hermione, darling, you do realize you are getting married to Professor Snape in less than 45 minutes? You do realize that this is forever, don't you?" a hesitant McGonagall asked. She had finished her needlepoint for the day and she was now concentrating fully on Hermione's cool answers.
"Of course, Professor McGonagall," she plainly replied, faking a smile. Reality was she hadn't given too much thought to the "forever" part of the agreement. Would she accept an eternity of morning's waking up in the same chambers that her moody professor? She wasn't sure.
"Adultery, in the Wizard World, is punished with death," McGonagall commented, as if looking for a kind of reaction from Hermione's part. But she remained stiff and still, not even daring to blink, "You do not need to worry, Hermione. You are doing this out of love, aren't you?" She asked, trying to make her confess. Albus hadn't said a word about Hermione and Severus's immediate urge to marry. She was no fool. She knew he was hiding something.
"Yes, I am. I love, Severus. How can… I mean, how can I not love him?" she asked, more to herself. She needed all the confidence she could get. Getting married to the darkest of Professor's wasn't easy.
"Yes, dear, I am sure you have your motives," she simply said, opening the glass door that lead to the grounds. It was winter and the snow outside had transformed the green land into pure white, "I wish you good luck, my child. I wish for you nothing but the best," she finally said, kindly shutting the door behind her.
"Ready?" Ginny asked, 20 minutes later. It was time. She couldn't escape. Not now. Not ever. Hogwarts was at risk. She couldn't run away; it was in the stars. She needed to do it. For everyone's sake.
"Nearly ready," she said, her voice filled with pain.
"It's time," Ginny whispered from the door frame, dressed in a lilac dress robe. Her head was filled with curls and she looked beautiful, despite her worries.
"I know," she said, running her left hand through her untidy hair.
Gathering all the strength she possessed, she went through the glass door of Green House number three and into the alley where her ceremony was supposed to be held.
It did not resemble her dreams, but she was satisfied with the decorations all the same. The wooden chairs had been neatly arranged in order for everyone to circle the altar. She caught a glimpse of her mother and father in the first row and of Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall at the very end of the altar. No Ron, No Harry. Ron had promised, but sure enough Harry had persuaded him not to come.
She could hear Ginny's accelerated breathing from behind as she was following her best friend's steps from a safe distance.
But it took time for Hermione to realize that the man dressed in plain, black robes was Severus Snape. Not because he looked in any way different, but because she hadn't paid too much attention to the man standing in front of the altar; her future husband.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger in matrimony. As you may know, Mrs. and Mr. Granger are muggles and they fail to understand our traditions. I will explain the magic way in which Wizards and Witches get married. Despite common belief, we neither sacrifice animals nor drink blood. Hermione and Severus are suppose write their intentions for the marriage, whatever they may be, in these separate pieces of parchment and then they are suppose to hand said intentions to me. I will perform a simple charm, the scroll will seal itself forever and the groom will kiss the bride. It's as simple and as brief as that," Dumbledore explain with a smile on his face.
Everyone in the room nodded, especially Mr. and Mrs. Granger who looked disappointed about the whole thing. Can you really blame them, though?
A golden quill appeared on Hermione's hand. Her hand automatically flew to the parchment. She knew what she had to write. And so she did.
"I wish, to my future husband and myself, all the happiness in this world"
And as soon as she was finished, the piece of parchment folded itself and the golden quill disappeared from her hand.
It was Severus's turn now. And he looked nervous; his pale face even paler, his left hand- once unshakable- was trembling uncontrollably. He was going to marry Hermione Granger, and eventhough he had enjoyed the pleasure she had given him, he did not love her.
A silver quill appeared in his hand and his hand flew automatically to the parchment. He knew what he had to write. And so he did:
"I wish, to my future wife and myself, nothing but the most prosperous of futures. I can only ask for happiness"
And as soon as he was finished, the piece of parchment folded itself and the silver quill disappeared from his hand.
It was over. The folded parchments had found the way to Dumbledore's hands and within seconds, the two papers had transformed into one single scroll, sealed in gold.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Dumbledore said, lowering his hands to where they were, "Severus, old boy, you may kiss the bride, of course."
"Oh, no!" he thought to himself, a worried expression on his face.
"It has to be believable," was all the managed to think about.
And so, they stepped closer, their identical robes almost touching. His hand was now touching her face and she was fondly rubbing her cheek on his hand. Those hands she had fantasized so much about were hers; forever.
Leaning closer, he took her jaw in his hands, and claimed her mouth. Slowly, but passionate enough, their lips met. His mouth was devouring hers, being two times as big. And she liked the feeling of being wrapped by his arms; his strong arms. She figured that as long as he would remain her husband, she would feel protected.
When they broke apart, after several uncomfortable coughs, they were unable to hide the smiles on their faces. He took her hand in his and walking gracefully through the crowd of people greeting them, he dragged her to his chambers.
They needed to talk. Even if she didn't want to listen. About everything; about what had really happened that night when under the influence of the "deseous potionis" they had almost made love, about the kiss they had just shared and about how in the name of Merlin they were going to make their fake marriage work.
But Hermione had suddenly realized, while being pushed by her husband through the strange faces, that the future seemed not as uncertain now as it had been only 5 minutes ago. And she liked that feeling. She liked it a lot.