Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 03 : Epithalamium

Part One : Into Every Life a Little Strain Must Fall
Chapter Seven : Negotiations

Monday 12 September 2003 (Continued)

With a special impatient feeling in his gut and a pain behind his eyes, Severus stalked with Harry to Dumbledore's office after dinner to continue their conversation and bargaining over the guest list. Harry took one look at the banked fire in Severus' eyes (and knowing better than to disturb it) kept silent about the whole thing--Dumbledore was in for a rough time. As they were about to step on the bottom tread to go up, Harry laid his hand on Severus' arm, halting him. Severus eyed him, the fire about to erupt.

"Severus--far be it for me to interfere when you have a good head of steam worked up, but please keep in mind, er, his--well, you know what I mean."

Severus eyed him dubiously. "I have no intention of attacking him; however, I do not intend to give him any special treatment. He is as obnoxious today as he was yesterday, probably more so because he knows what a marshmallow you are--I assure you, he will use this to his advantage." He switched to his doddering old man voice and continued, "'Poor little Albus, don't get me excited, do what I want so I'll feel better'." He went on cynically, "Harry, he is, if nothing else, a consummate manipulator. I, for one, do not intend to get taken by his dissimulation."

Harry waved his hand in dismissal. "I know that. I was referring not to your machinations, but to that glint you have in the back of your eyes. You're pissed off about something. If you really must get mad, take it out on me, all right? You can do whatever else you want, but the only stress I want him to suffer through tonight is that you bested him in a bargain, and he did not get his way."

"Why? There would be little satisfaction in yelling at you." And he proceeded to tell him in great detail all about his tribulations of the day. Harry was trying very hard not to laugh (which helped Severus' temper none) until he got to the part about the Howler, although he omitted the target, knowing Minerva would keep quiet about it.

Harry was exasperated. "Oh Merlin, another one? Why do they keep sending them? When will they stop, Sev?"

Severus chortled. "If I knew the answer to that, I would also know the meaning of life and could retire a satisfied and wealthy man." Realising Harry was serious and upset, he ran a hand gently down his face and touched his lips with his fingers. "It's nothing to worry about," he said softly, bending slightly to let his lips follow his fingers. "Surely we've weathered worse than red envelopes from ignorant prats."

Harry chuckled. "Yes, I suppose we have at that." He ran his hand up Severus' arm. "Still, I'm more upset for you--they always make you so angry."

His eyes turned wicked. "Ah yes, but only you and Albus can make me yell."

Harry grinned. "If you'll not yell at me, then you're to yell at no one." Severus snorted in derision. "You brought this on yourself, you know.

Snape was incredulous. "I fail to see how you could come to that conclusion even with your normal hop-scotched leaps of logic."

"You're the one who asked me to look at him. Now he's my responsibility. As his Healer, I am asking you not to upset him--stressing him is all right, though." Harry grinned at him.

Severus raised a brow. "There's a difference?"

As Harry drew breath to reply, Dumbledore's petulant voice drifted down to them. "Are you two quite finished discussing me? The night is wasting away--Poppy will have my guts for garters if I don't get to bed at a 'decent' hour--whatever that is." He turned away to go back into his office and they could clearly hear him mumble, "Treated like a child, indeed. 'Eat all your vegetables. You'll not get your dessert until you finish your food. Go to bed early.' Takes all the fun out of life, it does."

Severus and Harry looked at each other and smiled as they rode the stairs to the top of Dumbledore's tower.

As usual, Albus fussed with the tea things and once again, Severus found himself gingerly sipping tea that was too hot and too sweet. He knew the heat of the liquid was normal--Albus must have a mouth made of dragon-hide the way he drank the scalding brew, but he suspected the sweetening was another subtle revenge for the strictures of his new diet. He blew over the top of his cup, smiling as he heard Harry choke on the saccharine drink.

Albus took a long drink of his tea and sighed in satisfaction. The spoon rattled as he set the cup and saucer down convenient to his hand. Reaching into the drawer to his side, he pulled forth a rolled parchment and set it carefully on the desk. With a quick spell, the foolscap unrolled, lying flat on the worn wooden surface. It was enchanted in such a manner that any party reading it saw the words facing them in a size fitting for their sight. He next laid a primed quill in the center of the document and with another quietly spoken incantation, the quill stood upright, ready to do his bidding.

He settled in his desk chair and folded his hands calmly in front of him; Severus casually leaned back in his wingback, his arms and hands relaxed on the cushioned arms. Twinkling blue eyes over half-moon spectacles met Severus' obsidian stare under drawn brows. The headmaster tilted his head even as Severus dipped his in a nod; the line was succinctly but silently drawn as both men prepared to haggle.

Harry was fascinated. He'd never seen a magical contract before and realised Dumbledore was playing this game in earnest--he would not allow either of them to wiggle out of it later. He leant forward over his crossed legs to watch the evolving spectacle. He had no intention of joining in this contest of wills; he surmised neither one of them would appreciate what they would perceive as interference, although it would not stop him from calling a halt to the proceedings if he thought Albus was being hurt by it. He chuckled inwardly, allowing only the smallest of twists to his lips--he suspected Albus would thrive on it. He also had a good guess as to who was going to get the better end of the deal.

Dumbledore began. "This is the list of guests I propose for the reception on the 26th of October, following your nuptials. In return for your unequivocal acceptance of the people on this list, I am prepared to give you a leave of absence, with pay, from the ending of the reception at one minute before midnight of the 26th to sometime before the dinner hour on the 31st; I would have you back in time for the full Hallowe'en feast. I am also prepared to hire Professor Provecto Septimius as a substitute teacher for your Potions classes while you are away AND to give him free rein in any way he sees fit to run your classroom."

He chuckled lightly, knowing the carrot in front of this particular horse was very alluring indeed. "A most generous offer, if I do say so myself, with such a small price to pay; however, I understand you take exception to some of the members on this list?" He barely suppressed the hint of amusement in his voice.

Mindful of Harry's words before coming up, Severus held back his biting retort. "Yes, we do object to several of the guests, but most importantly, we strenuously object to the presence of the Malfoys--father as well as son. There is too much water under the bridge with them; we would have them struck from the list."

At that moment, Fawkes squawked from his perch. Phineas, leaning on the side of his frame, roused from his slumber and, yawning, asked, "What does the blighter want now?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "He's reminding me it is time to take my potion. Since I don't see us finishing anytime soon, I was wondering, Harry, if you would you please get my dose from Poppy and tell her I may be a while so she won't fret."

Not in the least bit suspicious, Harry replied, "Certainly, Albus. Is she in the infirmary?" At Dumbledore's nod, he quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

Severus waited a few moments to make sure he was gone and then gave Dumbledore a wicked smile. "That was a brilliant, but flimsy excuse to get him out of the room, old man. What is it you want?"

Just as baldly, Dumbledore replied, "If you don't give in about this one issue and leave the Malfoys on the list, I will tell Harry about all the Howlers you have been getting and hiding from him as well as the blatant threats against him they've contained. If it's any consolation to you, your instincts are right in this--it is better he not know. I will also tell you this--they are tied to the reasons I need the Malfoys to attend beyond what I told you yesterday. I can say no more without revealing my source."

They were still staring at each other, each trying to read the other when Harry came back with the potion. He carefully measured out a dose, trying to ignore the heavy tension between the two men, and handed the cup silently to Albus, who tipped the cup back and drank the contents in one gulp. He sighed as he handed the cup back. "My thanks--it tastes better than I would have credited."

Harry snickered. "Don't thank me, thank Severus--it was all his idea."

Dumbledore's brows raised, his eyes sliding slyly to the side to gauge Snape's reaction. "Severus? Are you suggesting he did something 'nice' for me?"

"No, I'm not suggesting it. I'm stating it. I believe he said something like," he changed his voice to a credible Snape growl, "'Maybe the old bugger will take this better if we add something sweet to it, like those damned sherbet lemons he's always trying to foist off on us.' Or words to that effect." Harry's eyes gleamed mischievously.

Albus chortled, "Now who would have guessed that our esteemed sourpuss over there would even think of such a thing. I suppose I should be grateful for his temporary insanity when he chose my 'damned sherbet lemons' instead of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans in say, Ear Wax or Vomit. That's more your taste, eh Severus?" The eyes staring speculatively at Severus over the spectacles were the wickedest blue.

"Oh give him some credit, Albus," Phineas spoke up. "Ear Wax and Vomit? With the way his potions taste in the first place? It could only be an improvement. I would think sardines and liver would be more to his taste knowing how much he loves them both."

Caught in an open act of kindness did not please the Potions master and the pained glare he shot to the room at large with his muttered, "There really is no need to be so insulting," only made them laugh harder. Phineas snorted and Merlin guffawed. Harry cracked up when the image of Severus' private retribution flashed across his mind. He leaned closer to Severus and replied low, barely audible over the raucous laughter from the others, "Anytime, Sev, anytime."

Ever mindful of the negotiations and with great difficulty, Severus severely limited the mock glare and twisted smile he briefly showed his lover before he looked away, resuming the more expected stormy face. He knew that if he did more, he would probably wind up telling him about the Howlers anyway--he found keeping things from Harry almost as distasteful as someone discovering he was not as nasty as everyone assumed him to be.

In retrospect, he really didn't know why he felt this keen, compelling desire to keep away from Harry the intent of this and other more recent Howlers he'd not told McGonagall about. At first he'd thought it was some lingering effect of his infrequent misguided protectiveness he felt about him, but this ran deeper. For some reason, his instincts were screaming that Harry should not know the contents were directed specifically at him and Dumbledore's confirmation rang true in his mind. 'Perhaps I am afraid his usual Gryffindor foolhardiness will override his better Slytherin tendencies? I don't know why I am so concerned over it--he has not the same bent for revenge or retribution as I.'

He rode out the fading remnants of merriment and when things had calmed down stated, "Very well, Albus, we concede the point--the Malfoys will stay on the guest list." The quill flew across the page as his concession was noted.

Harry gasped. Shocked at this sudden change from their agreement with no additional discussion, he stared dumbly at Severus, who could feel his growing suspicions. A series of rapid images sent from Harry flitted briefly across his mind, the first being the memory of Fawkes on his perch. The second was of Harry in the infirmary getting the potion from Poppy. Next came one of Severus sitting in the chair, sweating heavily, with a shimmering hammer over his head. With the flash of lightning across a black blank of anger that followed it, Severus was left with no doubts of Harry's resentment towards Dumbledore and his dawning suspicions that he'd just been adroitly 'handled' by the older wizard.

Severus could feel Harry's growing bitterness at the purposeful mission from the room so Albus could negotiate in private, but was grateful Harry chose, for once, to remain silent about it. He was even more relieved the displeasure was directed at Dumbledore and not him, Harry making the correct assumption that Severus had been forced into it. Severus continued calmly, despite the roiling tension coming from his partner. "We also need to discuss the inclusion of Fudge on the list. I believe Septimius was your payment for his presence?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Harry and I did discuss it, but no agreement was reached."

"Fine. We will accept Fudge at the reception, but only if you remove the time stricture from our trip to Hana and extend it to one minute before midnight on Sunday the 2nd of November AND you keep Septimius away from the reception."

"Very well--a bit difficult to manage, but I think it can be arranged." The quill once again made its mark on the parchment.

Bombarded by Harry's continued aggravation, Severus began his opening salvo. "However, having made these points," he paused and gauged Dumbledore's sudden frown, "We will not abide the inclusion of the other guests we discussed the other day and to that I would include your recent addition of Bellatrix Black to the list, making it 48 guests we will brook no argument over." He felt Harry relax a little.

"Gentlemen, I can certainly understand your reluctance in including Bellatrix and am prepared to strike her and the other fifteen remaining Death Eaters from the list; however, the others are mostly Aurors and a few prominent members of the Ministry. Their part has always been above reproach and there is no reason to exclude them." Albus cleared his throat--he'd not been expecting so many to be removed.

Severus honed in for the kill. "Albus, let me make this plain. Those 'Aurors and prominent members of society' have, even now with Arthur in place, tried everything in their power to incarcerate me in Azkaban. While I might 'forgive' them their repeated attempts against my person, I have no intention of inviting anyone who signed that 'Writ of Arrest for Moral Turpitude' issued when news of Harry's and my relationship became common knowledge. I assure you, they might even be relieved at their lack of invitation."

"Severus, I disagree--"

He never got to finish as Snape continued, "If you don't concede this point in our 'discussion', I will tell Poppy where you keep all your forbidden sweetmeats and just how often you're 'cheating' when she's not watching."

Dumbledore grunted his displeasure, but the quill sailed across the parchment crossing out all 48 names.

Harry was very glad to be rid of Sirius' murderer, Bellatrix; he would stomach the Malfoys and Fudge if he had to, but Bellatrix was over the top. He was beginning to sense Dumbledore was upset and tiring--this last exclusion of guests had dismayed him deeply for some reason. He was about to start calling it a night when Albus raised his hand. "One more thing we have not discussed."

Severus eyed him suspiciously. That Albus had saved this for last did not bode well. "Well?" he asked sceptically, glancing over at Harry who shrugged.

"If you want me to officiate, you both will need to write an Epithalamium for the ceremony." Dumbledore's sly smile belied the seriousness of his words.

Harry and Severus began speaking at once, "You can't--No way--be serious--are we going to do that!"

"I assure you, I am most serious. An Epithalamium, in five verses each, for the traditional Closed Form," he gloated.

While Severus ranted, at great length, on the unfairness of the request, Harry noticed Dumbledore fumbling in the pocket of his outer robe. His face was slowly graying, his breathing audible. Covering his mouth while he yawned, he hid a small pull of pain across his face as he, with a surreptitious hand movement, deftly popped a palmed Digitalus ball into his mouth. While he obviously willed the pill to work quickly, Harry also made a mental note to have Poppy keep loose track of the number of doses Albus was taking per day. A few moments later, Dumbledore's colour started returning to his face, although he was making a conscious effort to control his breathing. Severus was so involved in his diatribe, he'd noticed nothing.

Harry's steel was showing again as he fixed Severus with a baleful eye. He rudely interrupted him mid-word. "That's it, Severus. No more tonight." Ignoring Severus' raised brows and noise of protest, he turned to Dumbledore, saying gently, "We will do the Epithalamium, as you wish, in the traditional manner, with smiles if need be."

The quill added the clause with a happy flourish and then rested on the parchment. Its work was finished.

Both men started to complain--his abrupt suspension of their wrangling ruined their fun.

Harry was adamant and gave Severus a significant narrowing of his eyes. "Not another argument. Both of you. Severus, you know better and you--" he turned an implacable gaze over to Albus, "--you behave and settle down. I'll not have you undoing all my work so soon." Dumbledore drew breath, the protest clear on his face. Harry countered, "Argue with me more and I'll tell Poppy why it was necessary for us to stop this evening." At Dumbledore's rebellious expression, Harry graced him with a smug smile. "Severus is not the only one with a spot of extortion on his mind."

As the document rolled back up and with a flash, duplicated, Severus nodded, realising something must have happened without his notice and acquiesced with nary a protest--he knew Harry would not have interfered had it not been serious. "Perhaps I did get carried away just a bit." He sheepishly apologised to Dumbledore.

Albus finally erupted. "Enough is enough. Will you two stop it!" he roared. "I am not some doddering idiot with both feet in the grave."

Merlin, having silently watched the whole exchange, rolled his eyes and remarked to a sniggering Phineas, "How are we doing on squeezing some space on the wall for him?"

Phineas barely contained his mirth, "Oh we found the place all right, next to Dolly over there. She's agreed to keep an eye on him in case he gets forgetful."

Harry glossed over his concern and stealing a glance at Phineas with a wink, drolly quipped, "My Albus, such concerned company you keep." He turned to Merlin and remarked, "Just make sure you get security mounts--he has a tendency to meander, you know." As Albus sputtered, he continued, "Of course, if you'd rather, we could just tag him so when he starts wandering, we'll always know where to find him."

With his mouth twitching under his beard, Albus stood and waved his hands at them. "Out! Out! Both of you--before I hex you out of here."

Severus smiled as he took their copy of the parchment from the desk. He gestured to Harry, who was suppressing his laughter, to precede him and with dim chuckles, they left the office.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and glared at the portraits on the wall, contemplating the more novel uses of the Desinum spell. Phineas, in particular, looked thoughtful. "Tell me, friend, how are you going to continue sneaking about if everyone is watching you so closely?"

Shrugging, Dumbledore replied, "I'll manage, I suppose, although this comes at a most inconvenient time."

"So does the illness," Merlin chimed in.

Albus chuckled, "Yes, there is that--although I have to admit, after Harry got done yesterday, I've not felt this good in a decade--Poppy certainly didn't complain." He laughed at the uncomfortable looks on the portraits' faces. "I am more concerned about security. Although the exclusion of the Death Eaters bothers me somewhat, I am unsure how I am going to protect those two and the rest of the guests with most of the highest ranking and most powerful Aurors banned from the party."

Phineas' troubled mien brightened. "You could just hire them as guards at the reception," he offered.

Dumbledore mulled the possibility and sighed. "True, I could. Would Aurors of your day take insult at being hired for something to which they should have been invited in the first place?"

"Hmmm. Good point. I suspect yours might be a tad more volatile than mine--they have a larger stake in the whole mess. Mine was a simpler time; we'd no Voldemort to fight, only ourselves." He chortled at the remembered family conflicts. His 'time' had been when the House loyalties had started to divide.

"Albus?" a soft voice asked from behind him.

It was Dolly, a quiet headmistress from before Phineas; she'd not held the position long before she died of poisoning by her successor (who being consigned to the walls of Azkaban, was the only headmaster portrait not in Dumbledore's office). Always soft-spoken, the others thought her slow, but he knew she just liked to look at all the sides first before speaking. "Yes, my dear," he coaxed gently.

"Methinks there is a simple solution to your conundrum. If I understand your reasoning, you need the former Death Eaters in attendance so you can keep them well in sight and the Aurors present for a visible show of strength, n'est-ce pas?" At his grunt of assent, she continued. "Then I know how you can get both groups to the party without offending anyone." She tilted her head to the side, her shyness evaporating with the wicked light in her eyes. "Excepting Harry and Severus, of course."

He frowned and with his hand, shushed Phineas who was about to make one of his infamous snide comments. Albus encouraged her to continue. "Oh? How so?"

"Just invite them anyway," she stated firmly.

"Pardon?"

"Invite them anyway."

He froze--it was too easy.

She gained confidence. "Oh, Harry and Severus will be incensed, but honestly--what are they going to do about it? Thrash you? Hex you into next week? Denounce you in front of the whole assembly? Stop the ceremony held the night before? Delay the honeymoon to exact their revenge?" She stopped briefly and glared at Phineas' knowing snort. "They might refuse attendance or leave as soon as they discover your subterfuge; however, with the serpent in the henhouse, as it were, no one will notice their absence in the confusion and in any event, you would be happier if they were well away. They might stay out of spite and demand more concessions later. However, one has to ask whether you really care about future payments you may not be alive to fulfill?"

With a deceptively winsome smile, she continued. "If one thinks on it, their range of viable options is quite limited. All you need do is apply your native talents to keep them from learning about it until it is too late for them to do anything about it. She shrugged eloquently. "No, I say do as you please and mitigate the damage after it's done. Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coûte. Severus, especially, will bear close watch after they return. His reputation for vengeance and cunning is well-earned, and he'll be more subtle the longer he waits to exact it. Harry will forgive you in time--he always does and, unless I miss my mark, he'll obtund the worst of Severus' machinations."

Dumbledore's appreciative chuckles, quickly descended into guffaws as he began to fully grasp the simple elegance of her idea. "Oh, Dolly, it will be worth dying just so I can finally climb in your frame and give you a sound kiss!" She turned a becoming shade of pink, embarrassed but pleased. "This is absolutely splendid." He rubbed his palms together in glee. "Good night, my friends, we have much to discuss on the morrow. So many plans to make." And with a bow, he left his office, his step jaunty, his thoughts on Poppy when he got home.

"n'est-ce pas?"--French--loose usage--"Is that not so?"
"Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coûte."--French--"It is only the first step that costs."

TBC