A/N: Finally got something typed up for you all! For those of you who expressed interest in what I'm currently researching - we're working on categorizing undergraduate biology and biochemistry textbook figures basically to determine why students are not prepared to analyze and understand expert visualizations in scientific journals when they reach graduate school.

Thanks so much for the awesome reviews: JeniDRalph, Dentelle, whenthesnowmelts, callalily32, MidnightThief15, Excel Go Boom, ButterflyGirl89, wyndnfyr, mairamout, IHeartBranson, DedicatedReader, ousia, ptite mac, knitchick, Petite Mule, AllyZ, FutureMrsPeterFacinelli, notwritten, JenniferLupinBlack, Whimsical-notes, Eleantris, Lyra Lupin, Mel, Paige, WanderingMoon, paddiew, woodshark, BlooDsucKkerR69, Coolnetta, tennis14321432, vampirela69, weaselette01, and the guest reviewers!

Chapter 5: The Big Day

"Wakie-wakie, lovebird!" Tonks crooned as she yanked back the dingy curtains.

Hermione groaned painfully at the intrusion upon her sleep and winced at the early sunbeams. Scowling, she reached for the second pillow and pulled it over her head.

"Nah-uh," the Auror smiled, yanking the pillow out of the girl's hands and smacking her with it. "The blushing bride needs to get her arse out of bed!"

When the girl refused to move still, another two whaps of the pillow followed.

"Rise and shine, love!"

With a loud yawn, Hermione sat up and wiped her eyes. "Okay, enough."

Tonks grinned wickedly and delivered another blow.

"Stop!" the younger girl cried, covering her head.

"Are you going to get up, then?"

"Yes!" she huffed, throwing back the covers and stepping onto the floor. "Do you know how early it is?"

"Aye!" Tonks tossed the pillow back onto the mattress and then followed the girl as she made her way towards the bathroom. "And you should be a bit more cheery, considering I've let you have a proper lie-in."

Hermione glanced up at the grotesque clock in the hallway and raised her eyebrow bitterly. "It's barely past seven. You consider that a proper lie-in?"

"Considering the majority of wizarding brides begin their preparations at dawn – yes, yes I do."

"Dawn?" she scoffed, pushing open the lavatory door. "Ugh. What is wrong with them?"

The pink-haired witch snickered as the door slammed shut in her face. "They're generally excited about their upcoming nuptials, now aren't they?"

"Well, if you're so bloody excited about it, why don't you marry him?" came the muffled reply.

Tonks snorted and crossed her arms as she leaned against the door frame. "Would if I could, love, but that happy privilege rests solely with you!"

"Privilege?" Sirius sneered as he poked his head out of the master bedroom. "I think punishment is the word you're looking for."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Why don't you go stick your nose where it's wanted? Up Remus's behind, perhaps?"

Her cousin scowled, muttering like his house elf as he slammed his door shut and stalked past her towards the staircase.

A few seconds later, Hermione pulled open the door and stared at her. "Now exactly what am I supposed to do?"

The Auror smiled. "Bath or breakfast first?"

"Erm," she nibbled on her bottom lip. "Breakfast, I think."

"A wise decision," Tonks winked as she directed the girl towards the stairs. "Molly's been cooking up her apologies for an hour already, and I'm starving."

As they stepped into the long, narrow kitchen, Hermione's eyebrows rose at the multitude of dishes on the table. Sirius, Remus, and Arthur were already tucking in, while Molly spun around with a second plate of bacon.

"Oh, there you are, dear," she smiled. "I didn't know what you'd like, so I made a bit of everything."

"It looks it," the girl stated, pulling up a seat next to Remus.

After a few minutes of only staring at her plate, Tonks sighed and started piling it full of food. Hermione made to protest the amount, but the Auror shook her head and smirked. "You could stand the calories, love. Trust me, you'll be burning them off tonight."

As Remus choked on his pumpkin juice, Sirius angrily tossed his fork down with a clatter and glared at the table. Arthur shifted nervously in his seat and glanced up at his wife who was slicing fruit with greater force than was necessary.

Blushing, Hermione began picking at her eggs. The only thing for which she was currently thankful was that the Weasley twins were still asleep upstairs. The rest of the meal could pass in awkward silence without any of their crude comments.

"I swear, I'm not peeking," Tonks snickered.

Hermione whimpered slightly and checked that the Auror's eyes were closed. Quickly stripping out of her pajamas, she hurried towards the tub and slipped into the hot water. "Okay, you can look now."

The pink-haired woman snorted and bent over to pick up the woven basket from the floor. "You know, you're going to have to get over some of that bashful-ness. I'm not sure Severus Snape will be as generous with you as I am."

"Would you stop, please?" the girl asked, her face flushing red as she covered herself in the tub.

"Sorry," Tonks muttered. "If you want, I can get Molly for this instead."

"No!"

"Alright then. You'll just have to deal with my observations," she smiled, taking a seat on a conjured bench. She pulled off the lid of the basket and picked up the first of many cloth bags. Loosening the drawstring, she glanced inside the bag and pulled out a handful of thin yellow petals.

Hermione watched curiously as the woman sprinkled them into the bath water. Upon seeing her expression, Tonks smiled and decided to offer an explanation. "Calendula, to bring you health and joy during your marriage."

The next bag contained a mixture of star-like white flowers and smaller purple petals. "Myrtle and Verbena, for fidelity, everlasting love, and marital bliss."

She then added two handfuls of herbs, followed by a smattering of tiny white flowers. "Thyme, for courage and strength – which, when marrying our dear professor, you will need. Sage, for domestic virtue and long life. Queen Anne's lace, for protection."

Hermione glanced at everything floating around her and then peered over the edge of the tub at the basket which contained several more satchels. She then watched as Tonks opened three of them and glanced thoughtfully into each. "What is it?"

"Oh, just deciding amongst the roses," she stated before nibbling on her bottom lip.

"You have to make a decision?"

The Auror nodded slowly. "Each one has its own meanings, and you don't wish to complicate the message. At least that's what I've been told."

"How do you know all of this?" Hermione asked, leaning her chin against the porcelain tub.

"I may not be one for the mushy stuff, but Mum certainly is. She's been enamored with the idea of love since she first started Hogwarts, which is why she set her cap at Da instead of marrying for stature like her sisters did. So, you can bet your arse she pushed all of this wedding and love nonsense at me since I've been in nappies. And for the past ten years, she's been rather obsessed with the idea of grandchildren."

"But you're only –"

"Twenty-four, I know," Tonks snorted.

Hermione shook her head. "That's a bit ridiculous, I think."

"Tell me about it." With a sigh, the woman picked up one of the bags. "I think white will be the best for you."

"What's it for?"

Tonks smiled slightly as she dusted the water with the roses. "Respect. Love. Unity. Innocence."

"And if it were you?" the girl queried with a look at the other two satchels of rose petals. "Which would you be?"

"That's easy – Pink. Beauty and grace are definitely two things I would need… in spades. I'd have to dump the whole bag in probably."

Hermione giggled and played with the nearest myrtle flower. "I think you're pretty – as does Ginny."

"Ah, but graceful, I think not."

The brunette bit her lip and smiled sheepishly.

"Red wouldn't be too bad either, though," Tonks spoke aloud as she reached for the next item. "Though I'd like to think passion and love would already be present in the relationship."

The younger witch smiled at her. "And you said you're not one for the mushy stuff."

"Shut it," the Auror said quickly as she tossed in pink petals. "Carnations, for admiration and pureness in love."

"You do seem to be putting in a lot of love."

Before Hermione could even defend herself, the slender witch had grabbed hold of her head and shoved it beneath the water.

"Any more comments?'' Tonks asked after allowing her to re-emerge.

Coughing slightly, the girl laughed and shook her head. "I won't say anything else, I swear."

"Good, because there's still plenty of time for me to do away with you and assume your identity." The woman pulled open a satchel and then immediately closed it with a mischievous grin. "I think Severus would appreciate it if I leave out the False Unicorn."

"Why? What's it for?"

"Fertility," the Auror stated, waggling her eyebrows.

"Oh god. I think I would appreciate it if you left that out."

"Perhaps," Tonks smirked as she began piling everything back into the basket. "For now."

Hermione's head shot up in response, and she narrowed her eyes as she sprayed the woman with a healthy dose of bath water. In an attempt to evade it, the pink-haired witch ended up falling off of her stool and landing sprawled out on the floor.

Laughing loudly, the Auror playfully wiped at herself. "Ugh! Don't get your marriage juice all over me!"

The Gryffindor dropped her jaw in mock indignation and scooped up another handful of water in order to further douse the witch.

"Do it, and I'll dump in the entire bag of fertility!" the Auror threatened with an extended pointed finger as she wielded the sack of False Unicorn in the other hand. She then picked herself up from the floor and tossed the last satchel into the basket before closing the lid. When Hermione snorted, she looked up with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you suppose that's what happened to Mrs. Weasley? They dumped in the whole bag?"

Tonks tilted her head back and laughed out loud.

Dumbledore lowered his wand as he watched the castle begin forming the new room. He turned slightly to glance at the silent Potions Master. "Are you certain this is the arrangement you desire?"

Severus flashed his employer a dark glare. "What is it exactly that you are insinuating?"

"Nothing, my dear boy," the elder wizard chuckled, holding up his hands defensively. "I do not believe your intentions are anything but honorable. I just wanted to determine if you were completely certain –"

"Of course I'm bloody certain!" The dark-haired man scowled at the cursed twinkling of the Headmaster's blue eyes.

As the castle finished its shifting and rumbling, Albus cleared his throat and smiled at his spy. "This is a happy day, Severus. It wouldn't physically harm you to loosen up a bit, as they say."

"Perhaps you should consult the dictionary, Headmaster, for I would not label the occasion as such."

"Planned or not, this marriage is still a marriage," Dumbledore winked. "One, I might add, that you agreed to without quarrel."

Snape deepened his frown and folded his arms against his chest. "I agreed to this sham in order to preserve my position with the Dark Lord and to keep the girl safe. I did not, in any stretch of the imagination, agree to it for the opportunity of periodically bedding a student."

The Headmaster sighed and nodded. "I do not believe otherwise, Severus, but you must remember that there is more to celebrate in a marriage than the physical consummation."

The younger wizard pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you quite finished?"

"If you wish," he said softly, adjusting his robes. He pulled out a small, wooden box from a hidden pocket and presented it to the taller man. "Your rings."

Severus nodded slightly and took the proffered item. Upon propping open the box, he rolled his eyes. "An emerald in silver? For the bride of a Slytherin? How mind-numbingly original of you."

The old man's eyes were filled with mirth. "It just so happens that the emerald is the sacred stone of the goddess Venus –"

"Of course it is," Snape sneered in disgust.

"—and is said to represent love, hope, faithfulness, and wisdom. All of which are attributes that I believe are in your possession… as well as in the possession of your lovely, young bride."

The Potions Master let out a long-winded sigh and closed the ring box with a loud snap. "If that is all…"

"Of course," Albus grinned, locking his hands behind his back. "I shall leave you to your preparations, my boy."

"Ouch!" Hermione cried as the brush caught in her wet curls.

"Mmph… Sorry," Tonks mumbled from behind her. "You do realize how difficult your hair is, don't you?"

"Of course I – ouch—do!" she hissed grumpily. "Why do you think it always – ow – looks like it does?"

"Guess I've…never given it… much thought."

Hermione sighed and tried to ignore the tears forming in her eyes as the Auror pulled her hair one way and then the other. Eventually, she began to get a crick in her neck and had to lean her elbows on the vanity desk and support her head with both hands.

"This is so much easier… when it's my own hair," the woman muttered before letting out a muffled curse word.

"Well, considering you're a freaking Metamorphmagus, of course it is!"

Tonks snorted. "Are you always this punchy when preparing for a forced marriage?"

"I wouldn't know, would I? Seeing as this is my first such happy occasion." The girl then laughed slightly but winced as soon as another snarl of hair formed against the brush. Determined not to cry, she hid her face behind her hands and refused to look in the mirror.

"How is it coming along?" Mrs. Weasley asked, pushing open the door enough to peer into the bedroom. Upon catching sight of the two young women struggling, a concerned look crossed her face and she stepped into the room. "Oh dear. Here, let me handle that."

Blowing out a relieved breath, Tonks gladly handed off the brush and stepped back from the challenge. Shaking out her arms, she flopped backwards onto one of the beds.

Tutting softly, Molly gathered up the girl's damp curls in one hand and gently began working out the tangles. After a while, she had fixed the damage done by the young Auror and had tamed the mass into something manageable. When she reached for the bottle of Sleekeazy's and began the long process of sculpting the hair, Tonks propped herself up onto one elbow and watched in disbelief. Within half an hour, the Weasley matron let out a sigh of success and stepped away from the girl to examine it from all sides.

"I think that will do well," she boasted.

Hermione peeked through her fingers briefly at the mirror and then dropped her hand in shock. Somehow the woman had managed to smooth her bushy hair into an elegant and soft French twist. Holding her breath, she lightly patted at the back of her head and smiled at the feeling of the curls, piled up and secured. "Mrs. Weasley, it's –"

"A fecking miracle," Tonks interrupted.

The girl giggled, but nodded in agreement. Without a further thought, she launched out of her chair and embraced the woman tightly. Molly chuckled softly as she returned the hug and then placed a kiss on the girl's forehead.

"I may not fully agree with this," she said, pulling back enough to stare into Hermione's eyes, "but every bride deserves to stun the hell out of their groom – even if he is Severus Snape."

"Hear, hear!" Tonks shouted.

Hermione smiled and suddenly found herself fighting back tears. Inhaling deeply, she willed them not to fall and then turned to stare at her reflection in the mirror again. Her hair was absolutely amazing, and she actually thought herself pretty, even if she was only wrapped in a towel.

"Oh god," she whispered fearfully before turning to face the two women. "What am I going to do about a dress? I don't have anything to wear to a wedding!"

Molly patted her on the arm and smiled. "Minerva's taking care of that for you. She should be here –"

"Right about now," McGonagall finished as she stepped into the room, carrying a small box. "Hermione, you look lovely, dear."

The girl gave half a smile and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"About time to get your dress figured out, wouldn't you say?" With a flick of her wand, Minerva enlarged the box to its full size and set it upon the bed. When she pulled off the lid, there was a collective gasp from the three women.

"It's absolutely gorgeous," Tonks whistled.

Molly looked at the older woman in awe. "Where did you ever find a dress like that on such short notice?"

The Scottish woman got a wistful look in her eye as she lovingly touched the lace. "The top shelf of my wardrobe, actually."

Hermione glanced up in surprise. "This is yours?"

"It is."

Tonks tilted her head, a look of wonder on her face. "I didn't know you were ever married, Professor."

A hint of sadness appeared on the woman's face as she shook her head. "For a brief spell, I was, but not… well, not in this dress."

Upon noticing the others' suddenly contrite expressions, the Deputy Head cleared her throat and gave a tight smile. "It was a long time ago, and the dress doesn't belong hidden away for all of eternity. Forty-three years is long enough."

Hermione swallowed back emotion as she circled around the bed. "You're really letting me wear your dress?"

Minerva smiled and nodded. "It's not doing me any good, and I don't have any daughters of my own to pass it on to. Besides, I find myself rather fond of you, and Severus is as close to a son as I'll ever have. Tell him that, however, and there will be serious repercussions."

The girl covered her mouth with her hands, but could no longer hold back her tears. With a clucking noise, McGonagall pulled her into an embrace.

"It's not even a real wedding and yet I can't stop crying," she whimpered pitifully.

The elder witch smiled and patted her arm. "I think it perfectly acceptable, Miss Granger."

Hermione stepped back from her Head of House and wiped at her eyes. "It's the last time you get to call me that, I guess."

"I guess it is," she agreed, squeezing the girl's hand. "Now… How about you try it on and we'll see what needs to be altered."

The young Gryffindor nodded and stepped over to the box. Biting her lip, she delicately reached into the garment box and pulled out the ivory gown. The sleeveless bodice had a scooped neckline, and the entire dress was embroidered lace upon what looked like satin. The waist looked as though it were slightly fitted, while the full skirt flounced easily and had just the hint of a train. A long row of satin-covered buttons traced along the spine of the dress, from the high-back to just below the bodice.

"It's so beautiful," she whispered.

McGonagall stepped beside her and began unfastening the buttons. "We may have to shorten the skirt up a bit. I think I may have been a hair or two taller than you at the time. I found you a pair of heels, so maybe the length will be alright."

Hermione only nodded as she did not quite trust to use her voice any longer.

When the buttons had all been undone, Minerva held up the dress. "Time to part with the towel."

Blushing slightly, the girl dropped the towel and stood before them in only her knickers. With the elder witch's help, she stepped into the gown and then pulled it up into place.

"You were so slim, Professor," she grimaced while sucking in her stomach. "I don't think I'm going to fit."

McGonagall snorted softly as she attempted to pull the two sides together. "Well, who needs to eat when they've got love, eh? But yes, I think we may have to alter the waist a smidge."

Molly stepped forward and helped with the magical alterations until finally the dress was fully buttoned and Hermione was able to breathe easily.

"Well," the Gryffindor Head muttered, taking a step back to admire their work. "What do you think?"

"I think the professor's going to forget his own name when he sees you," the Auror grinned. Molly Weasley glanced at her in approval and nodded her head in agreement.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, Hermione ran her hands over the lace front of the bodice. Standing there with her hair done up and in one of the most beautiful wedding gowns she had ever seen, everything suddenly became real. She was getting married today. It was her wedding day, and her parents were completely in the dark. At that thought, tears again made their presence known.

Tonks sighed and squeezed her shoulder. "At least we haven't done your make-up yet, so you haven't ruined anythi – ouch!"

"Not the time, Dora," McGonagall admonished after having pulled on the Auror's ear.

"They're supposed to be here for this," Hermione sniffed as the Deputy Head slipped an arm around her waist. "They don't even know about it."

Minerva sighed and met Mrs. Weasley's gaze. After a long moment, the redheaded woman stepped forward. "Perhaps we could send for them –"

"No!" Hermione snapped her gaze from the mirror to the plump witch. Embarrassed by her sudden outburst, she dropped her eyes to the floor and wrapped her hands around her neck. "It's just… I don't want to involve them."

"In your wedding?" Molly asked in confusion.

"In my lie," she corrected quietly. "If I tell them the truth – which they would never begin to understand – I have no doubt that they would demand I return home. Or if they didn't, it would be too much of a risk for them to know, anyway. If I let them think what everyone else is supposed to think, then they probably will never speak to me again."

"Now, that cannot be true."

"My parents are Muggles, Mrs. Weasley," she explained, letting out a deep breath. "They won't forgive me my sins just because I wrapped it up in a pretty bow and labeled it 'soul mates.' To them, I would just be marrying my professor under the pressure of having our sexual relationship exposed. And if you think they're going to treat the two of us any nicer than the rest of you did yesterday, you are sadly mistaken."

"But they're your –"

Hermione shook her head. "In six years of schooling, I've managed one detention. With Umbridge. And it was on purpose. To keep her from abusing the younger children. Yet, to this day, my parents are still upset with me over it – over ruining my academic record. And this is way worse than a detention."

"But exponentially more fun," Tonks smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.

The girl sighed and perched on the edge of her bed. "I don't want them to know about this until its safe for them to know the whole truth. They don't get the Prophet, so it'll be alright on that front at least."

"If you're certain –"

"I am," she nodded.

"Alright," McGonagall nodded nervously before sitting down next to her. "Perhaps you'd like to discuss what will be expected during the ceremony."

"Please."

Closing his eyes momentarily, Severus let out a long breath and resumed his pacing of the small bridegroom antechamber. Not since Lily died had he ever considered himself marrying, and never had it been pictured as occurring within the walls of the sodding Ministry of Magic. Lily had always described their future nuptials – because, of course, they had been destined to live happily ever after together – as taking place in the small stone church she and her parents had attended in Cokeworth. In the later years of their friendship, he had once or twice considered the notion of eventually proposing to her where they had first met and then marrying her in the spot they had claimed as theirs on the edge of the Black Lake.

Obviously that had been before everything had gone down the crapper.

Lily ended up marrying that Potter at his family's estate and it had been heralded as the bloody event of the season. The Potters would not hear of the small, intimate ceremony that Lily had always dreamed of, and there was no way in Hades that they would have set foot in a Muggle chapel. For all of the Marauders' grievances about Death Eaters, Potter's pure-blooded relatives were just as close-minded as everyone else in wizarding society. In fact, Severus was quite sure that had there not already been a tiny Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World spawning in her womb, Lily would never have been accepted into the family, as begrudgingly as it had been. Incidentally, had Potter's parents not died so soon after Lily had provided James with an heir, she undoubtedly never would have been buried under the accursed surname.

Naturally, the newest Potter would never be told of his true family dynamic. The suit filed by his grandparents at the Ministry demanding a paternity test had magically disappeared upon their sudden surrender to dragonpox. The multitudes of letters sent to James, imploring him to think of divorce for the sake of the family, had all been destroyed in the explosion courtesy of Dumbledore and company. Even the remaining members of the Marauders seemed to have confused history with a fairy-tale. Immediately upon death, Lily had become a saint, James had become a doting husband and father, and the Potters had become the most generous people that Sirius Black ever had the privilege of knowing.

It was all a bunch of thestral manure, piled higher than the gold in the Potters' precious vault – half of which had actually been pledged in support of Lord Voldemort's political policies. Luckily for the reputation of the Potter name, the dragonpox prevented the finalization of that transaction, too. But for the sake of Harry – for the sake of the Wizarding World – no one spoke a word of it. Snape himself would never have known of it had Lily not written him a request for a tear-filled reunion in what had turned out to be the eleventh hour of her existence.

They had met covertly in Muggle London, where she had spent the first five minutes of the meeting with her arms wrapped tightly around him, sobbing into his chest and exclaiming how much she had missed his company. She had then confessed everything to him – about the pre-marital pregnancy, about the wedding, about the letters, about the suit, about the vault, and about her misery in remaining a Potter and her fear of losing custody if a divorce were to be granted. He had listened to everything silently, not even complaining when the miniature-James seated on her lap – in an early display of his astonishing intellect – decided that the Potions Master's fingers greatly resembled lollies.

When she had finished her tearful account, he had swallowed his pride and had taken his turn in coming clean. She had known everything at the time of her death, and yet she had forgiven him… for everything. He had never understood it – it had taken her five years to look past a single offensive word uttered in frustration, but only five seconds to forgive her own death sentence. She had, however, plopped the chubby tot on his lap and made him promise the drooling child that he would do whatever he could to protect him. In typical Potter fashion, the boy had then been so overcome with gratitude that he had literally pissed himself.

It was because of Lily that he kept his promise to the boy – who had thankfully outgrown the tendency for finger-gnawing, though the drooling appeared a much tougher habit to break. It was also because of her that he knew which type of wedding ceremony to demand. There were several options available in the wizarding world – many of which viewed marriage as a permanent institution. With the greater influx of Muggleborns in the population, however, divorce had gradually become an opportunity – depending, of course, on the strength of the magical binding used in the union. Because Lily had been such an undesirable daughter-in-law, the Potters had pushed them towards one of the more modern marrying methods – one which greatly resembled a Muggle ceremony, right down to the relative ease in which one could file for dissolution.

For as he stood there in the Department of Magical Marriages, Births, and General Population Services, he had no intentions whatsoever of remaining tied to Miss Granger for two seconds longer than was absolutely required.

"Wotcher, Professor!" a cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts. "You clean up well."

Severus sighed and turned to witness a platinum blonde Nymphadora Tonks giving him an exaggerated once-over. "You look decidedly less… nauseating."

Tonks smirked and patted her hair proudly. "I'm so flattered you noticed. I did rather suspect you would protest having pink in your wedding party."

"Yet assumed I would prefer a doppelganger of your dear aunt Narcissa instead?"

The Auror's nose wrinkled in sudden disgust. "Ugh, you're absolutely right."

After a moment of consideration, the nearly-white locks turned chestnut brown and began to gently curl. "Better?"

Snape gave a non-committal shrug, which was taken as an affirmative by the witch who then dramatically flopped into one of the ornate, cream-colored wingback chairs. "I assume you are the bride's maiden attendant?"

"Ten points to Slytherin."

"And you have managed to confuse me with the bride how?"

"It's the hair, I think, really," she smirked, twisting a strand of her own. "No, Molly banished me from the room after making one too many insinuations regarding the conclusion of your evening."

Severus stiffened slightly and sent her a dark glare. "And you thought it wise to share your ridiculous allusions here?"

"Hmm?" she asked, distracted momentarily by the tips of her now silver nails. "Oh, no. Actually, McGonagall sent me to make sure you haven't bolted. She seemed to think you'd prefer my company to that of the Headmaster's."

"I couldn't begin to imagine why," he sneered, leaning against the wall. After a few minutes, he glanced up at the clock and grimaced at the atrocious rendition of Cupid pointing out the time with his horrid bow and heart-shaped arrow. "Are they nearly finished preparing their sacrifice?"

"An apt description," she sighed, stretching out her legs. "Quite literally a virgin sacrifice we're making of her."

Snape cleared his throat and looked awkwardly out the window.

"But yes, Molly must nearly be finished bawling over her."

"I would have presumed Miss Granger to be the miserable party."

Tonks shrugged. "She did a fair share of sniffling earlier, but not actually about the arrangement itself. Apparently no one thought to consider she'll be giving up her relationship with her parents along with her future."

The wizard looked to her in surprise.

"My mother may have given me an atrocious name, but at least she forgave me my detentions… and storeroom banishments."

Severus blew out an uncomfortable breath and pinched his eyes shut. He had not considered her parents, either. Of course they would disapprove of it all. Of course the marriage would further alienate the girl from her non-magic family. Of course she would feel her life was ruined.

A knock on the door caused him to open his eyes.

"It's time," Minerva said with a tight smile as Tonks darted past her towards the bride's chamber.

He nodded slowly and inhaled a nervous breath.

A/N: I looked around for a dress that was similar to the one in my head and I actually found one! View it at www. millcrestvintage. com (backslash) 1940s-embroidered-lace-vintage-wedding-gown-p-462. html