What I Need 11/11

"I refuse to wear anything in that sort of hideous shade," I snap icily. Hermione Granger, back at Hogwarts from the mediwizard school she went to, just smiles sweetly and sets down the swatch of pale blue fabric.

"Perhaps something a little darker then," she says, unfazed by my glaring.

Two weeks ago, Harry had finally broken the news to his friends, and three days ago Miss Granger, Miss Weasly, Mr. Weasly and parents had descended. Well, the girls had. Ron just glowered at me a lot. Needless to say, I probably wasn't helping the situation by needling him constantly, but it is still so delieghtful to watch him squirm.

"…nice shade of pink."

"P-pink?" I yelp, suddenly realizing that being fitted for dress robes is not the proper time to be reminiscing.

Hermione grins at me, waving the piece of hideous fabric under my nose. "What? You'd look charming."

"Miss Granger, you are very close to getting thrown out," I growl at her. "I fail to see what is wrong with black."

"Honestly," she says, rolling her eyes. "Do you want to make this perfect or not? You can't wear black to your own wedding!"

Personally, I didn't think Harry would care what I was wearing. The girls had descended, along with both of their mothers, and were proceeding to plan the whole thing. Harry had just shrugged and given me a sheepish smile, asking me to just let them. I was seriously reconsidering cooperating.

"Black is classic," I state coolly, feeling ready to kill something. I hadn't ever expected to be arguing about dress robes with Hermione Granger. Potions, perhaps, but not dress robes.

"Classic or not, you're not wearing it. Don't you have any other favorite colors?" She rifles through the book of swatches from Madam Malkin's.

"Green," I say without thinking.

She grins at me. "Now, that should have been obvious. And since Harry's wearing pale green, we could put you in something darker." She pulled out the first decent bit of fabric I'd seen yet.

"I was beginning to think that you had no taste," I comment dryly, taking the bit of dark green velvet from her.

She snorts at me, and snatches it back. "I just like watching you get all worked up. Get you back a bit, you know."

I raise an eyebrow. "I hadn't thought revenge was a Gryffindor trait."

"What, you think you Slytherins got all the nasty traits?" She smirks. "Think again. Oh, while we're going through colors, what do you think of green, gold and white for the decorations? Tablecloths and such?"

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. Tablecloths. Could my life get worse?

You'd think I'd have learned not to tempt fate. Life could get worse. I sit back in my chair and wait for a very red, very upset Ron Weasley to calm down. It seems that he had finally realized it wasn't a big joke. Harry was marrying his "slimy potions teacher." Which had led to this…confrontation.

"…Death eater!" Ron finally rand out of insults and things to accuse me of.

"Mr. Weasley," I say in my best "stupid student" voice. "If I were any of the things you just called me, I highly doubt that Harry would have had anything to do with me. I also would not likely have had my job, thus saving you much stress," I add in a condescending tone, watching him bristle. Still as hot headed and immature as always.

"He was your student!"

"Yes. Thank you for pointing out the obvious once again, Mr. Weasley. Tea?" I pour myself a cup. For Harry's sake, I won't poison his best man. Somehow I will try to get along with Ron Weasley.

He sits down in a huff and accepts a cup, still obviously annoyed. "He's young enough to be your son."

"True," I say blandly. "However, as I have no children, I fail to see the problem there."

Ron mutters something under his breath and I sigh. Hoping the last member of the terrible would have grown up was, I suppose, utterly in vain.

"You'll hurt him," he says, voice quiet and lost, eyes locked on his tea.

Ah. I must admit being startled by that. "I will not," I say calmly.

"Yes you will. You're both too stubborn. And eventually you'll die and leave him behind." Ron sounds upset, and he has a death grip on his teacup.

"I do not intend to die any time soon, Mr. Weasley"

"Whether or not you intend to, it's true. You're, what, 20 years older than he is?"

"21," I say quietly. "And Harry and I had this discussion long ago."

"So he doesn't care?"

Poor Ron. He and Harry had been together for a short time. What agony it must be, knowing that the man your best friend left you for was, and is, someone you hate. "He cares. But not about the age difference."

Ron sighs and sets his cup aside. "I still don't like you, but you really love him, don't you."

"Yes," I say simply, realizing that (though it irks me) I do need Ron's blessing for this. As much as I would have needed Sirius', were he still alive.

With another sigh, he nods. "Then…I won't interfere. He's happy, even I can see that. But if you don't treat him right," now he glare, and I am suddenly reminded that he is one of the best Aurors the Ministry has ever had. "I will hurt you for it." With that warning, he rises and stalks out of my office.

So the biggest hurdle is over. Now, if I can just keep from killing anyone before the ceremony…

"Severus? Lilacs or roses?" Ginny Weasley pokes her head in, her arms filled with both types of flowers and I groan, closing my eyes. The wedding couldn't get here soon enough.

"Severus, hold still," Remus snaps at me, exasperated. The ceremony starts in a few minutes, and I'm a nervous wreck. As I manage to stop fidgeting, Remus gets the last little bit of the ridiculously complicated set of dress robes the girls talked me in to fastened together. Remus is in a soft amber set of robes, bringing out his eyes. As I turn to him he smiles at me.

"You'll be fine, Sev. Just remember your vows, and it'll be over before you know it."

I smile faintly, noting in a detatched way, that Remus seems a bit healthier. A bell chimes, and Hermione pokes her head in. "We're ready, Severus."

Nervously, I make my way out, taking my place near Albus, waiting for Harry to appear. My robes hang heavy off my shoulders, the thick velvet warm. I must look odd, because some of the guests – former students of mine – are staring at me as if they've never seen me. Then again, I've never worn anything quite this…extravagant. I feel my face heating up, and hope that this starts soon. Or that Harry would have just given in to my pleas to elope.

All my discomforts are forgotten as he appears, beautiful in his dress robes of pale green silk. As I watch him, he slowly walks up to me, eyes shining, a smile on his face. He stops beside me, as we stand before Dumbledore. I honestly can't remember anything that happened. I lost myself in his eyes, and the next thing I knew, Harry's arms are around me, and he's kissing me to the sounds of cheering. Sometime in there, we must have recited our vows, but I don't remember. As I pull him close to me, wrapping my arms tightly around his slender body, I realize that it's real now. It's real. I have him…I have what I need.

The End