Happiest Day of Their Lives

As the end of semester neared, neither mentioned that talk or that night. Hermione had returned to classes the next morning. She continued to receive her customary "O"s without as much as a glance at him.

Severus, for his own part, had ceased to watch her from his hillock and the Hufflepuffs were not again awakened by late-night screams of undying passion. Severus spent his nights holed up in his dungeons either working on some experiment or curled up, losing himself in bottles of Dreamless Sleep.

As term came to a close and the Seventh Years prepared for graduation, all of Hogwarts School and grounds were garlanded in white and blue: Harry Potter intended to marry his fiancé on campus and asked Dumbledore to give her away.

Although Hermione spent the last few weeks of term showing off the large diamond in her engagement ring and telling anyone who would listen how inconceivably happy she was to be getting married, Harry had complaints, "I don't know, Ron. Lately is seems that whenever we're together she's somehow distant." He looked down and shook his head, "Even when we make love these days, she's not really there, you know?" He was confused and wanted nothing more than to see his fiancé happy.

Ron just shook his head, listening in a silence that Harry didn't understand. Later that evening, though, the redhead made a command, and perhaps idiotic, decision. It was the only path he had left. There was no way that he, Ron Weasley, was going to sit by and watch the woman of his dreams be unhappy. Not if he could actually do something about it.

Late that night, Ron stood in the dungeons, rapping loudly at the door to Severus' private quarters. They opened slowly with a low creak (Snape, always one for the theatrical, had a tendency to scare away houseelves who tried to oil them) and the Potions Master peered icily out at the man who had disturbed his evening, "What is it, Weasley?"

Ron sneered, "She's getting married tomorrow, you idiot."

Snape sneered before affecting a sickly sweet smile, "Yes, I know. She's tying herself forever more to the hero, Harry Potter! She's so happy!" He batted his eyelashes once or twice before letting the act fall.

Ron tried to hard to fight it down, but the reasoning was gone. He'd already graduated, by Merlin! He didn't have to worry about house points or upsetting a professor. None of it mattered anymore and this was far more important!

Severus gingerly fingered what would be a black eye tomorrow if he didn't mend it. He watched Weasley walk away, throwing harsh, cold words over his shoulder at his once-Professor, "You're in love with her, you bloody ponce. So do something about it before it gets too late."

Hours later, Severus allowed himself to seek out Poppy's assistance with the black eye, but he still didn't sleep well. Snape had foregone the use of Dreamless Sleep for the first time in weeks.

The next morning, the Potions Master pulled on light robes and headed toward the third floor single room set aside for the Gryffindor Head Girl, thankful for the first time in his life that Potter believed in muggle customs. Severus knew that Hermione would be locked in her room for the majority of the day, fretting and preparing for the wedding. After all, it's bad luck to see the bride…

Severus' knuckled met the door, rapping on it and listening to the sound carry into the inner rooms. Hermione answered the door, hair limp and still wet from her recent shower, her face warm, her colour high, and her features set in stone, "What do you want, Severus?"

It's bad luck to see the bride…

One of his hands found her shoulder as he pressed his way into her rooms, invading her space and slamming the door behind him. With the strength of his body, Severus shoved her smaller frame against the wall, "I want you, Hermione." Instinctively, his mouth found hers and sealed it tight with his own. His hands fumbled in her robes, trying desperately to separate them from her body.

Hermione let herself be taken over with his power. She pressed her own back against the wall, revelling in the feeling of finally having his hands on her body.

He broke the kiss long enough to look down at her, "Please, I need you." He then found her lips again, one of his hands bunching in her thick, brown hair, the other roaming the curves of her body.

Harry, however, stood quietly in the door that neither of them had seen open again.

It's bad luck to see the bride… particularly when she's happy in the arms of another man.

He stood there watching them until he couldn't take it anymore. Hermione and Severus were so wrapped up in one another that they never noticed him.

"Come away with me, Hermione." Harry watched his professor's lips leave a wet trail of kisses over his fiancé's face and the top of her chest.

Say No.

She wasn't really reacting to him. She was standing there, letting him have his way with her. She wasn't encouraging him, but then, she wasn't yelling, demanding that he get his hands off of her. Say No.

"Please, Hermione." Severus pleaded with her between kisses, "I need you." He kissed her again, leaving a searing mark above her collarbone, "I'll wait for you in the Hog's Head. Come to me."

That's when Harry closed his eyes and turned, stealing out of the room as quietly as he had come. He was not willing to let himself stand there and listen to the woman he loved agree to leave with another man. Not on his wedding day.

Moments later, Severus tore himself away from her. His eyes held the promise of things to come, if she would only turn and follow him, "I'll wait for you." He left her rooms, the end of his black robes whipping through the door as he closed it.

She took a deep breath, her mind suddenly racing. His stride had betrayed his confidence in himself, in her. He thought she would join him, was convinced of it. However, the Head Girl hadn't agreed to anything. She's stood there and accepted his kisses, felt them, heard the words as they hung in the air around her, Leave Him. She couldn't. I need you, I want you. That was all well and good, but 'need' and 'want' weren't love.

Hermione walked to the bed and fingered the material of her veil. The sheer, white fabric that had been sewn up specifically for her wedding day sat there and stared at her. She picked the delicate object up, sadly, This is how the story's supposed to go… right?

Half an hour later, Mendelssohn played across Hogwarts ground and Harry thrilled inside. She really did want him. She'd chosen him!

At the same time, sitting in the gloomy pub in Hogsmeade, Professor Severus Snape, Hogwarts Potions Master, ordered another firewhiskey as he realised that she wasn't coming. She'd chosen Potter over him.

Ron, on the other hand, felt sick to his stomach. He sat there watching her say "I do" without any protest or signs of repentance. He stole her away later that afternoon and he'd forced the necessary information out of her, "What have you done? What are you doing here? Where is he, Hermione?"

She smiled in a mindless sort of way, "Oh, Severus? He's in the Hogs Head, waiting." She looked around, focusing on the trees and the filmy decorations from the wedding, anywhere but on Ron.

He, however, grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him, "Why did you do it, Hermione? You gave your-fucking-self away to Harry! You're not in love with Harry!"

Hermione stepped back, suddenly both defensive and coldly furious, "I know that, Ron, but he's in love with me."

"No, Hermione." Ron shook his head, his eyes flashing ire at the woman in front of him, "Snape is in love with you.

Quickly, the mask slipped back over her features, obscuring her from Ron, "Well, thank you for your worry, Ron. But, I'm very happy." That horrible, fake smile parted her lips as she turned from him and hurried back to her new husband.