Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 03 : Epithalamium

Part One : Into Every Life a Little Strain Must Fall
Chapter Three : A Compromise

10 September 2003

"Absolutely not!" Harry exclaimed.

Dumbledore looked up from the parchment he was holding, the quill in his left hand already poised to make a mark next to the name of the next person on his list. "Harry, you can't NOT invite him," he said with mild exasperation.

"I bloody well can," Harry retorted hotly. "Whose wedding is this anyway? I've half a mind to elope."

I certainly could agree to the half a mind part, Dumbledore thought to himself but said, "Harry, you must be reasonable about this. Think about the impact to the school."

"Frankly, Albus, I don't give a fig." He took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. While Dumbledore was annoying at times, he did not deserve to be abused with his anger. He went on in a more respectful, but no less vehement tone, "Fudge is not invited to the wedding, period. After all the grief he has given all of us, especially to Severus, there is no way I want that idiotic, vindictive... viper present on what is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives." He shook his head, his ire rising again. "I don't know why I'm even considering this." He tapped Albus' revised list with his quill. "Severus and I worked hours last evening to determine exactly who was participating in the ceremony. What part of close family and friends did you not understand?"

Albus closed his eyes and silently counted to ten in Greek before opening them, to reply calmly, "I am not taking issue with your fine, thoughtful choices for witnesses. We are, instead, discussing the other 'guests'." He held Harry's gaze--fiery green eyes to weary blue ones. He was so tired of all these--these machinations and wished heartily that once, just once, he could get what he needed without an argument. Oh good gads, I have two of them now, Albus thought, reaching for the Tummy-Be-Calm Potion Severus had made up for him last week. He took a short swig straight from the bottle thinking, I'm truly getting too old for this.

When Harry made no reply and sat sullenly staring at the other parchment, Albus took the opportunity to wait a few moments for the blessed relief to spread through his raging stomach, ruefully thinking that he should have expected this resistance to any changes in their ceremony. Albus was glad for once that Harry's preoccupation with the second list in front of him distracted the boy from noticing the grimace of pain he could not stop from traveling across his face.

Stomach calmer, Dumbledore sighed, saying gently, "Harry, as much as you would like to keep this private, as much as we all would like to ignore the, ah, politics of the situation, you cannot. Like it or not, both you and Severus are a part of the overall Wizarding family. Your names are a part of history; your deeds together have profoundly affected many lives. For the good, to be sure, but done nonetheless. People want to celebrate with you, they want to share with you. Can you truly deny them this, when they stood behind you before?"

Harry's resolve never faltered. "Actually? Yes, I can. The people don't want to celebrate, Albus, they want to gawk. 'Oh look, The-Boy-Who-Lived is co-hab-i-tat-ing with the Evil Nasty Potions Professor; whatever does he see in the Greasy Git.' You know that's what they say, Albus, so don't coat the issue with sweet sentiments and honeyed words."

Dumbledore drew breath to respond, but Harry plowed on. "Ever since Severus and I got together, I have received hundreds of letters from people telling me it's not too late, that there's still a chance for me to be 'normal'. They all have beautiful daughters or, for the more liberal-minded, young handsome sons, extremely interested in sharing my bed, my bloodline, and my bank vault--and not necessarily in that order."

He paused; with a moue of distaste pulling down the corners of his mouth, he went on, "Then there's those who send me dire warnings about being with a former Death Eater and spy." He pitched his voice into a variety of nasal whines. "'Think of your reputation, Mr. Potter.' 'What did the nasty git do to you; surely you can't be with him by choice.' 'You're still ruled by your hormones, Harry, there are others so much more suitable.' 'You can do ever so much better than the likes of him.' 'Have you ever considered counseling, my dear?'" With a shake of his head, the voice low and laced with a sarcasm worthy of his lover, Harry continued, "The words they all use, so delicately couched in 'correct' and 'concerned' terms, bear such hateful messages. And, of course, let's not forget the more honest ones--the Howlers, with their vengeful threats from the Death Eaters themselves against us both, not to mention the lovely 'packages' with their sometimes deadly surprises, and surely we can't ignore the 'legal' Writs and Summons Severus received for daring to 'defile' The Golden Boy. I may have burnt them all, but I have not forgot them."

His eyes hardened, pinning Dumbledore with more than a hint of his inner steel. "In case it has escaped anyone's notice, I love Severus. I will NOT see him harmed or shamed or vilified, neither in the name of popularity, nor for the sake of politics, and though I love you both, not even for you, Albus, nor Hogwarts."

Breaking their locked gaze, Dumbledore tiredly dropped the parchment on the desk, laid the quill carefully on a bit of blotting paper, and took off his spectacles, holding them loosely in his hands. He neatly swiveled the chair to face the window, his profile clear to Harry. Leaning back into his chair's leather comfort, his calm eyes gazed at the sight of the sullen moors, while his thoughts ran ahead of the darkening clouds filling the skies.

'How eloquent my quiet one has become--so much passion Severus has unlocked in him. And so right he is. The 'public' adores him but has not been kind to Severus. Eventually they will reject them both for the very things which make them so strong unless I do something about it now. Such a dilemma in which I find myself. How best to express the concerns I have now when all seems right with the world? Dare I tell him what lies in his future, in their future? Should I reveal why all this is really so important--their joining, the date, the witnesses, even the guests? Is now the time to tell him how hard the going will be? Am I right in keeping it from him? Or is it better to just tell Severus? To let him, once again, keep the secrets for both?'

While the thoughts chased through his head, he idly noted it was going to rain soon. Finally, with some introspection and regret, Albus fully accepted the burden. 'No, I am afraid it is impossible now to separate them. It is best I continue to bear the burden for the limited time left me. They need this time to grow together, to find their strength in their union. To find the inner core that will support them later. To just be together and build good memories they can fall back on when the new ones are not so pleasant.' He smiled to himself thinking of the two of them starting out on their lives, while his was winding down. 'And, of course, to just enjoy them with no shadows darkening their brightness would be a wondrous gift all in itself. After all these years, perhaps I owe myself this one simple pleasure. How easily we forget the quickening of our youth,' he mused.

In repose, Harry studied him closely, something he'd never done before because Albus Dumbledore rarely sat still. He noted the deep laugh lines framing his eyes, the seamed, hollowed cheeks, the rest hidden by the pristine white beard. Really seeing him for the first time, Harry couldn't help thinking how old his hands were. His eyes tracked the long, slender fingers sitting quiet in his lap, the crepe skin stretched loosely over sinew and bone clearly defined under the ropy veins tracing the backs of his hands. Oh so fragile, his hands, but in their youth, they would have been as strong and elegant as Severus'. A shiver of cold prescience went up his spine as he realised just how old Albus was; he'd lived over six of Harry's lifetimes. The thought was sobering and, shying away from his ruminations of mortality and loss, he futilely tried to convince himself that Albus would continue on for a few lifetimes more. Dumbledore startled Harry out of his assessment when he murmured, "How easily we forget the quickening of our youth."

Turning his chair with a small squeak, Albus faced Harry once more, his half-moon spectacles effectively hiding most of the careworn lines. His eyes softened as they always did around the boy. 'No, a man now. Not even all that young anymore. Soon to be husband to one of the people I love the most. I still can deny them nothing.' He sighed heavily again. "It seems I may owe you yet another apology, Harry. You're right. Your exchange of vows should be private, with only the people you select in attendance." He hesitated a small moment; there was nothing, though, that said he had to make it easy for them. Time to move to Plan 'B'. "However, the demands of the public do not change in the face of privacy. Perhaps I can suggest a compromise?"

Harry was feeling a little shame-faced at his outburst, which was probably why (against his better judgement) he replied, "All right, I'm open to reasonable suggestions, but I can promise you nothing; I'll need to discuss anything you suggest with Severus before we decide."

"Fair enough." The wicked twinkle was back in his eye; getting the fish--er--other party near the line willingly was half the battle. Barely suppressing his mirth, he said, "While I agree the ceremony itself, as well as the usual hijinks afterwards, should remain private, maybe you could allow me to host a more public reception to placate the others who will be offended they were not invited to the nuptials."

Harry gave it due consideration. While it was not a bad proposal, he knew Severus wouldn't be happy about it--parties and large gatherings were definitely not his cuppa, but at least it did leave the more intimate moments out of the public eye--and, hopefully, the newspapers. "When would you want to host such a reception?" Harry asked cautiously.

Albus tilted his head, delighted; the fish was sniffing the bait, time to hook him. "Hmmm. The day after the ceremony, on the 26th?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry frowned, making new lines in his forehead. "Well, that puts a halt to our plans; we'd intended to leave that night for Hana for the rest of the weekend. Severus has to be back on Monday to teach classes, so our time is very limited."

Dumbledore laughed, another, more tempting plan with better bait, at least for the other fish of the pair, starting to form in his mind. "Headmaster's prerogative, Harry. You and Severus attend the reception with my guest list on the 26th, and I'll arrange for a teacher so terrible for Severus' classes the following week, the students will be begging to have him back."

"I didn't know Umbridge knew Potions," Harry chuckled.

Dumbledore laughed heartily. "Oh, the person I have in mind is much worse--he redefines 'curmudgeon'. If Severus should ask, just tell him 'Septimius'. I'd lay even odds it will grab his attention."

Harry considered it. "All right, I'll ask Severus, but if he says 'no', we will need to re-open this discussion." He rose to go to the door. It dawned on him he'd been very rude. With contrition Harry turned back to look at the old man and said, "I'm sorry. You know, I never asked. You will bind us, won't you, Albus?"

Amusement and affection tinged his voice as he replied, "Of course I will, Harry."

They were relaxing in their quarters that evening with their habitual snifters of brandy before retiring. Arranged comfortably on the sofa in front of the fire, facing each other with only small bits of themselves touching, Harry had started to tell Severus of his conversation with Dumbledore earlier in the day. Severus knew it had been grossly unfair to let Harry go by himself to meet with Albus, but with his afternoon classes and the suspect timing of the appointment, he'd not been able to attend. Harry had been agitated all through dinner and Severus had patiently waited for him to calm down enough to tell him what was amiss. After hearing about the first part of the discussion with Albus and the extra list, he could see why Harry was upset; however, Severus knew that would not stop his scheming mind from seeing the potential in the whole situation.

"You didn't promise him anything, did you?" Severus asked almost frantically.

At the shake of Harry's head and his muttered, "I'm not a total idiot, Sev," he blew a sigh of relief, the hand on his knee all the apology Harry was likely to get.

When Harry didn't look up, Severus clinked his glass to Harry's to get his attention, saying, "I didn't imply nor say you were--the old bugger is quite sneaky." He laughed low when Harry gave him a mock glare and a lop-sided smile. Good, he was already forgiven; he could now turn his consideration to the startling news Harry had brought. "Septimius? Damn, I didn't know he was still alive. He probably taught Albus Potions." Severus smiled evilly. "It might almost be worth it just to have him take over my classes for a week. The little delinquents won't know what rolled over them."

"He's that bad?" Harry asked, intrigued despite his trepidation over the answer; he could feel Severus' glee and was somehow not reassured by it.

Severus chuckled with open malice. "Oh, much worse. A brilliant man; skilled in both alchemy and potions. He worked with Flamel and Albus and has no equal in my profession. Loves detentions, hates students on principle--even those who can keep up with him--Miss Granger would have displeased him. He'll have a field day with this latest batch of inattentive cretins." He rubbed his hands together in open delight. "Hmmm. This bears some thought. It's been years since the classroom and lab have had a thorough cleaning. I suspect he could have it done in the first few days." He chuckled again. "I can see it now--Second Year Gryffindors scrubbing the floors, Seventh Year Slytherins polishing the cauldrons. Oh yes, this has so much promise."

Harry couldn't stop the admiring grin on his face. It had taken him nearly four years to truly comprehend the purposeful thought and creativity Snape put into his constant conflict with the students, although it had taken him less time to understand they'd all heartily deserved it. What they, as students, had seen on the surface had been nothing compared to what went on deeper in Severus' mind. It wasn't that he hated students, per se, it was that he despaired ever finding one with true original thought (and Harry suspected one who could equal him in his constant quest for new discoveries). Whether he consciously intended it or not, he punished them accordingly for their behaviour as sheep and blatant lack of respect. "Severus, you are an evil man."

"Yes, quite," he replied smugly.

Something in the way he had recited Septimius' quaint personality traits made him wonder how well Severus had got along with him. "Did you have problems with him?"

Severus was lost in thought a moment, and Harry caught a surface glimpse of his memories of the then ancient Potions Master. He was a bit non-plussed about the whole thing--this bond, weak as it was, was going to take some time for him to get used to it and the random images that floated across his mind from Severus at the oddest times. It was one thing when Severus chose to let him see what was going on in his head and quite another when it happened by accident. Although, he had to admit, when their emotions ran high it was very hard to control and, in a couple of instances, had proved useful to them both.

Severus came out of his reverie. "Oh yes--but not about my potions work--I rarely did the same assignments as the others in my class; he always set me problems ahead of everyone else. No, with me, he was a prick about everything else. My state of dishabille, the constant bickering with the Gryffindors--hell, I used to get detentions for uneven margins on my papers. See, I really am quite 'gentle' with my students; I only take away House points and give the odd detention--" he paused impatiently when Harry snorted at this and continued on, ignoring him, "--he used to make us clean the stairs right about the time the Gryffindor Quidditch team would be coming in from practice on muddy days."

Harry was sceptical. "You still haven't answered my question. You're all right with it?"

Severus fixed him with an intense, beady gaze Harry hadn't seen directed at him since he was a student; he used to think it was Snape thinking of a reprehensible punishment. Now he knew it was Severus thinking of a suitable, usually scathing, reply. There was a difference, small as it was. "You still haven't told me how much of our souls we have to sell to get something this good." He shook his head. "Surely an appearance at a reception doesn't warrant such a delectable reward."

Harry held his eyes, his own expression neutral as he uttered one word, "Fudge."

"Fudge?" Harry could see Severus visibly holding onto his temper. "As in a chocolate treat or as in Malfoy's 'Performing Pet Poodle', the odious idiot we all love to hate?"

"The latter." He should never have taken Severus to see a Muggle circus.

"Ah, and Albus offers us just Septimius to compensate for allowing Fudge to be seen in our company? This is merely an opening salvo, he can surely do better if he wants it this badly. So tell me, how did you get stuck in the middle?"

"As I was saying, we were going over the guest lists for the exchange of vows. Ours was small, his was huge. He wanted the bloody vulture invited to the ceremony itself, as a 'guest'. He says Fudge may be retired, but he still has a lot of clout." Harry refused the remembered ire rising to the surface.

"And you said...?" Severus watched him closely.

"Absolutely not. Besides what he's done to you, the mere thought of him witnessing something as personal as our wedding was too horrible to contemplate." Harry's queasiness at the thought of some of Albus' preferred 'guests' put him to mind of when Ron had belched slugs after his misfired wand work against Draco in Second Year.

Harry grimaced when he saw the echoing nausea reflected on Severus' face, but the slowly dawning, wicked gleam in his eyes portended something shocking, something Harry knew would be grossly inappropriate; Severus did have a deviant mind at times. "Oh I don't know. I suspect if we were to show Fudge a little tongue at the final kiss, it might give him heart failure and we'd be rid of him forever."

"Severus!" Harry cried, scandalized but secretly amused, the picture of Fudge (in his death throes while Severus kissed Harry with one eye on the spectacle) from Severus coming in all too clear. He had to laugh.

"Oh, all right, I'll behave," Severus said, but Harry could see he was temporising. Suddenly serious, he leant over for a small, lingering kiss to Harry's cheek, his fingers moving his unruly hair out of his face. "In any event, thank you. I truly would not want him there, either." He pulled away, looking at his nails, a deceptively innocent expression covering his face. Until Harry saw the unscrupulous gleam in his eyes. Quite reasonably he said, "Now, let us discuss what we want from Albus--"

TBC