Severus Snape's Wedding

In Which Severus Snape Is Confronted With A Sad Truth

-Or-

The Joys of Masculinity

Author's Note: I would very much like to thank my reviewers, especially those who commented on my characterization. I would like to say that there is a reason behind the Malfoy's strange behaviour and that it has nothing to do with Death Eaters. Also, I would like to thank the reviewer who commented on Remus Lupin's brother Markus. (I have a friend by that name and I've always liked the name.) Honestly, no matter how old fashioned the wizarding world appears, I draw the line at Romulus and Remus. I thought that there was no reason Remus had to be an only child, just that any sibling would have to be much younger than he was. In my family, my Dad's oldest brother is eighteen years older than he is, so ten years did not seem such a stretch.

Narcissa Malfoy was a devious woman. She had had to be, coming from the Black family. All throughout her childhood she had been greeted with one practical joke after another from her cousin Sirius and the subtle tricks and digs of her sister Bellatrix. It had been fight back or be stepped on. Only with her sister Andromeda had she found any sense of security or mothering. But children grow up and Andromeda had dishonoured the family by taking up with a Muggle. Not even the love she bore Andromeda could overcome the stigma attached to the disastrous marriage and she had shunned her sister with the rest of them.

Why then, she pondered; regarding the younger Andromeda she saw in Tonks, do I feel so guilty? It isn't as though I owe the girl anything. She doesn't really like me. She writes out of courtesy on my birthday and that's about it. I see her a handful of times a year at Ministry functions. She has the breeding and manners of a pig. Why do I care? Why am I here for her wedding? She looked up ahead and saw her young niece laugh at a joke that Hermione Granger had told, a laugh so like Andromeda's. Suddenly the answer came to her. I may not approve of her. I may not even like her. But she's still family, she's still a Black. And the Blacks stick together. Our pride won't have it any other way. And with this startling revelation she entered Severus Snape's makeshift office to prepare the greatest spectacle the magical community had seen in ages. No family of hers would have anything but the best.

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Severus Snape continued to revise his "Ways to Die" list. He had now added choking on the ring he had neglected to provide. Yes, that's just lovely, he inwardly scolded. First Dumbledore connives me into this affair, probably with Potters' help, and now here comes the bride's estranged Death Eater-turned-Imperioed-heroine aunt, a young woman who still haunts my dreams with memories of her severe "Pick me, I know" syndrome, and the lucky, "blushing bride" to be. Thought, I suppose she blushes a lot after she trips over some miniscule piece of furniture or butchers the English language in that ridiculous accent, or strolls in with pink hair and Muggle hippie-like clothes. And now I've forgotten a ring. It would be Narcissa Black Malfoy too. The woman is THE etiquette. She'll flay me alive. But at least I'll never see Potter again, with his smug face and preposterous scar…

But his ponderings were cut short as there was a knock at the door. "Professor? Are, are you there?" asked a soft female voice and for a moment Severus was shocked that any of the three incarnations of evil that he knew were coming to his door could speak in such a feminine tone. He left his desk, shaking out his robes, black as usual, and strode to the door, the painful headache brewing behind his temples beginning to pulsate. He decided that Narcissa must have taken some kind of tranquilizer to be able to sound quite so pleasant.

As he opened the door, he stared up down at a witch he didn't recognize. Dressed in a wine coloured knee-length skirt and black jacket, she appeared very poised and slender. She was tall enough to be a Black, blonde like Narcissa, but there the resemblance stopped. Where Narcissa's face was pinched and worn with age, conceit and deception, this woman was obviously still young enough to be yet unknown to the horrors life could inflict. She wasn't conventionally pretty, but she had the presence of a poet: mysterious and tragic. He realised he was staring, trying to figure out who she was, what Black illegitimate she might be (possibly Sirius', who had been quite the rake in his youth) when he recovered his manners. "Please, do come inside miss."

"Thank you Professor," the young woman smiled and sat in the neatest chair, not waiting for her companions to enter.

Snape next welcomed two women he knew all too well: the Granger girl and Narcissa. Neither had changed from when he saw then last, Granger still as frizzy and Narcissa as cold, though he thought that as she entered he detected a speck of kindness in her eyes, though perhaps he had only imagined it. The woman was, as usual impeccably attired in a deep blue dress that accented her blonde hair and pale skin while Granger could be best described as frizzy and frumpy. He doubted that the girl could get a brush through that hair, and the ratty jeans were stark contrast to Narcissa's elegance. But no matter their appearance, they were still both harpies had he steeled himself for the confrontation that would surely follow. Thankfully, the bumbling freak isn't hear yet, he thought before he began. "Ladies, welcome, I suppose all we need is the bride." He stood confused when no laughter was elicited from the group.

"Professor," began Granger in that lecturing tone that only she could condescend in so well, "Tonks is here already."

Snape's eyes flew to the unfamiliar woman in the chair by the desk. The young woman, no, he corrected himself, the walking time bomb, did blush. However, he noted that the absence of pink hair reduced the absurdity of the red flush. The girl looked almost normal for the first time in her short life.

Tonks noticed his disbelieving stare and blushed. So many of her friends and colleagues hadn't adjusted well to the change in her, though none had been quite so obvious than one Severus Snape. I suppose that if I weren't me, I'd think I was odd too. No one would believe the amount of work she put into her new persona, her true persona. Most people simply assumed that she'd become bored with the bright adolescence of her former self and simply changed faces. But it wasn't so. This was the real Nymphadora, free from all enchantments, older and more mature looking, but still not the woman he wanted. She'd been sure that her efforts would pay off. She'd snuck off to a Muggle speech therapist Merlin knew how may times to get rid of the slangy accent that in all her changes she couldn't shake. She'd gone to makeup artists, fashion consultants, anything to make him see her as more than his kid brother's friend. But he'd simply shaken his head and said, "Tonks, is that really you? In a skirt?" She supposed it was hopeless, and this sham of a wedding only served to reinforce her sorrow over something she would never have: happiness with the man she adored. She couldn't count the number of times she's cursed herself for attending that stupid party of the Weasleys and letting herself drink to forget him for an evening. She wished she hadn't been so kind-hearted as to agree to this farce, in the name of helping him. But the time for all regrets was gone, for one Severus Snape was in her face with a long list, waiting for her attention.

"Miss Tonks, if I could so kindly have your attention, would you mind reviewing this itinerary I have composed for your "joyous" upcoming nuptials?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Professor. I was just thinking. May I please see the list." Snape handed it to her, all the while marvelling at her sudden manners. But his opinion was soon to change for as soon as she began to read the list, her mouth opened into an unladylike gape and she began to sputter indignantly. "The bride will "sport" a long white what? And what do you mean if her moral behaviour allows it? And don't open your mouth, mister, I know exactly what you're about to bloody well say! Aunt Narcissa, can you believe it, he's calling me a whore or a slut or something! What's that any of his business?"

"Let me see that, Nymphadora," Narcissa Malfoy was outraged. No family of hers would have such an unfavourable light cast on them. "I cannot believe this, Severus! That was not called for. And Nymphadora would look terrible with yellow flowers, she's blonde!"

Hermione, who was quietly observing the entire confrontation, thought it rather strange that Mrs. Malfoy was more upset about the flowers than the slur on her niece's moral character by someone who had no business intruding. But seeing Snape on the receiving end of someone else's ire was refreshing and she sat back to watch the show play out.

"Are you implying that either the Blacks or the Malfoys are poor Severus? Don't even deny it! Muslin, I tell you. That's for paupers. And what business do you have discussing Nymphadora's lingerie? That is the crudest thing I have ever heard you discuss about any former student and if you and Lucius weren't old friends, I'd be at the Headmaster to remove your job!" The woman simply took in Snape's glare and returned it with one even more forceful, fuelled by both righteous indignation and much practice. But before Snape had a chance to defend himself, she continued. "And Normandy! The weather is terrible in Normandy. Send them to Spain at least. And," here she silently scoured the list, "I see there is no mention of a ring. You forgot didn't you, Severus. How can we place any confidence in you if you can't remember something so simple? Poor dear Nymphadora, I'm sure you can use the set your mother didn't use at her own wedding. And do look Severus, poor Miss Granger is so heartbroken by your lack of foresight she's in tears!" In reality, Hermione was silently laughing into the arm of her chair. Narcissa Malfoy made Snape seem kind when angry. She didn't have his scathing wit, but she had presence, condescension and lots of volume.

Snape took advantage of the break in Narcissa's diatribe to plead his case. "Mrs. Malfoy," he began, hoping that his formality would help soothe her offended pride, "I humbly apologize for any inconvenience I have caused you and your niece, but, as you know, I am a bachelor and, with no siblings, have never been involved in planning a wedding." He turned to glare at the ever-irritating Miss Granger who was obviously far from crying, but was laughing at his expense. "Perhaps, the dear Miss Granger could assist me in my plans, as she seems to know what she's doing, being a member of the bridal party and a friend of the bride's." He smirked to himself upon viewing the immediate snap of Miss Granger's head and her open-mouthed shock. Thankfully, Narcissa was still too incensed to view his true motivation and took the opportunity to capitalize on some proper help for Severus' obvious fiasco-to-be.

"Severus Snape, I do believe that is the first sensible idea you have ever had because it is obvious that you are far less suited to this job than Miss Granger and you are desperately in need of a female perspective. Muslin, indeed…" Snape enjoyed the motions of "no" Miss Granger was making, that were ignored by Narcissa. "Well Severus, now that that's settled, we shall leave you and Miss Granger to your work. Do let us know how it's going and what you will need, my dear," she said quite kindly to Miss Granger before giving a final glare to Snape. "Come Nymphadora, they need time to work." And with that, she strode out of the room, her dress swirling behind her. Tonks followed helplessly, shooting Hermione a sympathetic glance before she too exited, managing a graceful exit as she avoided the door-side table that Snape was sure she would trip over, no matter how well dressed she was.

But now, he and Miss Granger were left alone and he wondered if he'd be able to refrain from strangling her with her own hair. He sat in silence, simply regarding the girl in the chair opposite him. Severus, get a hold of yourself. You'll survive this, you survived her for seven years, what's a few more months? But try as he might, this didn't reassure him at all. He noticed that as the first ten minutes slowly passed, she was observing him as warily as he was her, and wondered how they'd get anything done if neither could find their tongue to start. He had just decided to make the first move when the Granger girl surprised him by standing and plunking down on the edge of his desk. He was about to protest her strange behaviour when she tore the list in his hands in four pieces, handed him a quill and said, "Write." He knew now that he was in for many, many months of hell.

A/N: Please review. I enjoy your perspective on my characters and plot direction.