This one's coming a little bit late at night, but we did quite a bit of last minute tweaking 😅 Apologies. And sincerely, THANK YOU to everyone who's followed and reviewed. You've been immensely kind and very motivational. Enjoy, and try not to be too mad at us...
Cover art by OpalChalice - let us know what you think!
~ Kristina & Abby
The Ties That Bind
"No cord or cable can draw so forcibly, or bind so fast, as love can do with a single thread." - Robert Burton
CHAPTER II: The Binding
"Mutual aid and pleasure are linked, that the ties that bind are grounds for celebration as well as obligation." - Rebecca Solnit
~•~
Wednesday, 26th November, 2003 - Evening; Moments Later…
"All right, now that's all ironed out. Are you two ready?" Kingsley asked the pair with a relatively patient smile.
Minerva's pupils traveled between the inconceivable 'couple' with uneasy anticipation, though did her best to present a relaxed visage. Surely someone had to, and despite Kingsley's practiced tone, she could see even he felt somewhat trepidatious, amongst a barrage of other sentiments too no doubt. Bindings could, on occasion, be tricky to say the least. Throw in his own, private, moral compass over the entire exploit - not to mention everyone else's, favourable or not - the poor man was certainly beholden to inner upset. Bless him.
Bless them all.
"All right, let's get this over with before it's tea time. I have a roast in the oven that I very much look forward to devouring once this is all over with," the older witch piped up, as casually as she would any other deviancy to her schedule.
"About as ready as I'll ever be," the bride-to-be agreed, taking a deep breath and standing to her feet, her hands antsily smoothing her dress, which she realised somewhere in the more muggle half of her mind, was quite black.
It was a perfectly nice dress, all things considered, flattering even, but she had prepped herself for business when she'd chosen it. An argument in the guise of a negotiation, at best. She hadn't exactly dressed for a wedding of any kind, much less her own. Did wizards adhere to that whole 'no black for weddings' nonsense? Surely not. No, that seemed very pedestrian and superstitious.
"Don't exactly look very 'bridal', but at least we'll match."
Severus stood as well, pushing back his chair before stepping back himself to allow her to move past him to get situated in front of Kingsley proper. He snickered in appreciative sentiment at her comment, which was incontrovertibly plaited with cynicism to its first half and, dare he conclude, gratefulness to its second? Well, it certainly seemed so.
"I never did understand that Noachian tradition. 'Purity' is so very fancified, if you ask me," he reflected quietly to himself, and for her benefit as well.
He felt a precipitous urge to compliment the colour on her, how it made her rather pale, but ever luminescent skin pinker in comparison; the flush of blood underneath brighter and more present on its surface. He suddenly apprehended his sable pupils, however, trailing from the claret hue of her cheeks down the side of her neck and to her clavicle, realising their likely indecorous intentions should they be allowed to continue to stray and speedily put a stern arrest on their liberty.
And so, Severus ultimately opted to forgo saying anything in compliment to her just yet, given the dishonourable blunder he had just enacted. Instead, he chose to augment upon her observation by doubling down on her sentiment, if a bit caustically.
"A united front in all manner of ways would be the most useful at this time. Attire, I suppose, isn't a horrid place to start…"
"Probably for the best I strayed away from the red and gold, then," Hermione couldn't resist quipping, perhaps simply because for once she felt like she could. There wasn't a dull wit in the room, which was a relief even if nothing else about the scenario was. Though house colours might've been an unfair place to begin given the present company.
"Now, that, Miss Granger, would just be putting salt in a bloody wound. If you really wanted to impress your husband-to-be you likely should have shown up in a velvet, emerald dress. Something 'pretty' to look at is never something, even I, would shy from…." he teased her, purposefully taking on the archaic 'husband' role with full intended irony. Though, given what he had just caught his eyes doing, perhaps that was a dangerous and formidable dance to engage in.
Actually, he very much wanted to eat his fucking words. Could he get away with Obliterating her? Eh, likely not. At the very least, only she surely heard his words. And again, he did mean 'words'.
He. Was. Not. Flirting.
Hermione's right brow ascended skyward, surprised and strangely impressed that the man was maintaining some facet of an indulgent disposition. She had fully expected quiet unease, or even dismal ridicule, and yet he was facing nerves with, granted scornful, humor.
"That was almost a compliment, with just the right amount of condescension to spare you the trouble. Very well done," she taunted back, though her mirth overshot the feigned disapproval.
"Don't own one, I'm afraid, but I'm open to wedding gifts."
Severus raised his left brow and angled his head down and towards her direction before letting out a small chuckle that he then alchemy-ed into a curt cough.
"Noted, Miss Granger. Though, given what I may choose. It could very easily be more of a gift for me."
He paused a moment before adding with a semi-earnest haste, "Kidding, of course. But you knew that…."
Kingsley stood in the open space between his desk and the large pane windows, book in one hand and wand in the other, casting a furtive glance from the typically quite rare sight of Severus Snape showing an outward sign of amusement, sardonic as it may've been, over at the Hogwarts headmistress, and cleared his throat softly.
It had been about the fourth time in less than ten minutes, which considering the lack of anyone he detested being in excruciating pain in front of his eyes, had to be a rather positive sign, or so he dearly hoped if not for Hermione's sake than to save him from further paperwork down the line. Still, best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and get on with it while this seemed to be going all right. Or before he felt inclined sew his mouth shut.
"You look lovely as usual, Hermione. Minerva, would you stand over here and hold onto the rings please until they're needed?" The minister interrupted deftly, condensing the quickly spiraling point of the conversation before Severus tripped on his own fortitude.
"Yes, of course, dear," Minerva replied with a petite smile of repressed amusement at ...whatever that exchange had been before crossing over to grab the ancient looking box which held the circular pieces of gold and opened to reveal them.
Glancing between three parties that looked horrified, amused, and bewildered, all in short succession, she crossed to stand where the Minister had instructed her to just behind the former Potions Master's left shoulder, and upon seeing his nerves begin to power his mouth once again, couldn't help but nudge him slightly as she took her position.
"Severus, shut up," she uttered lightly.
"Doing so now," he returned with a small swallow and a nod.
"Thanks Kingsley," Hermione tossed out wryly with a self-deprecating chuckle, though her gaze shot up to Severus with a good-natured glint of mocking given his dancing around the same relatively innocent gesture. Taking a step back briefly, she slid off her half jacket and tossed it on the chair she had previously occupied before re-approaching. Snape's point was quite correct, a united front was a very good way to start. Might as well be comfortable.
"I assume you've probably seen marriages performed before, granted this will be quite a stripped down, old fashioned binding ritual but the same general rules apply," Kingsley stated, glancing between the two parties in front of him.
"It's a call and response, very simple. I will give instructions as we go. Do either of you have any questions or objections before we begin?"
He was already prepared to pause. Surely one or both of them would pipe up with something.
"Save all of the above?" Severus couldn't contain himself from remarking with scorn and a plenteous rolling of his eyes, though accidentally caught Minnie's penetrating gaze.
And so, heeding her 'instruction', dare he say mentorship, for the second time in a span of only a few moments, Severus looked towards the Wizard to his front and then down to the witch at his left side and issued an apology of regret for his less than enthused sardonic remark.
"Forgive the sarcasm of my ever-saturnine tongue, I'll behave. However, I do have a query," he expressed firmly, his eyes dancing back to his left to the young woman beside him briefly and then emigrated to Kingsley.
"What about Miss Granger's surname with regards to becoming a married woman? Must she take mine? Or is she free to do as she wishes, whatever that may be? Not being the chummiest towards it myself," he sneered lowly, "I'd hardly want it to be imposed on her just because the Wizengamot is a body of endless fossilised, misogynistic twats."
The minister gave an expansive gesture of deference towards the bride, who was now decidedly glancing up at her intended with bemused appreciation, whether he took note of it or not.
"There's nothing in the written text requiring it, and they've certainly allowed witches to retain their maiden names in the past as Professor McGonagall here is living proof of. So I would say however she chooses to sign the marriage certificate will decide it."
Minerva nodded along with Kinglsey's clarification, specifically when he referenced herself and her own assertion of individuality despite the conventions of man's society - emphasis very much on 'man'.
"Do as you wish, dear. You can always change it or add to it in the future. That, at least..." She skimmed her eyes round the group pointedly, "is something that you do have control of. Please don't feel any pressure at this moment to make any kind of decision you may dislike later."
"Well said, Minnie," Severus commented posthaste, not wanting to appear too enthusiastic about his, apparent, protection of Miss Granger and her liberties. Not yet anyhow. Though he was beyond grateful and more than obliged to her, he by no means wanted to come across as anything other than fervently clinical at best, at least in terms of endearment.
Hermione bit her lip lest she look too amused at this rather unexpected development. She had figured if anyone was going to be responsible for dredging up that point, it would have been her, and after the "main event" was over and done with. Though the idea that Severus had, apparently, been concerned enough to bring it up himself and now she stood in the middle of what was barrelling towards a debate on the lack of feminism in wizarding marriage law was almost hilarious. Yet, somehow, strangely fitting.
"I appreciate that… and I'll be considering it," she assured them all with a thoughtful half smile, though her tone held a sense of finality towards the subject, figuring she would give herself as much time as possible to mull it over versus announce a decision there and then, under duress. Paperwork was inevitable regardless.
"Shall we continue?"
"Please," Severus enthused pressingly as his cynical eyes flew to Kingsley as if to plead with the man to get this the fuck over with before he got even colder feet than he already had.
"Minerva has a bloody roast waiting, didn't you hear?" he added with an acerbic twisting of his lips to the side.
Honestly, this was getting worse and worse as the minutes went by. He'd never felt so exceedingly out of place, save, perhaps, when he was amongst his fellow students at Hogwarts in his youth. Well, that, and any Death Eater meeting, notwithstanding, this was certainly up there.
Hermione let out a short snicker and Kingsley rolled his eyes with clear weariness, letting the book fall open in his hand and giving them both a mild look of warning. The sarcasm was only going to quadruple the longer they stood there. Hell he was already legally doubling it, though neither of them seemed fully aware of it yet.
"Yes, fine, grand. You two - turn and face each other and clasp both your hands together - right to right and left to left."
Hermione frowned delicately at the slightly bizarre instruction, but didn't question it, turning in towards Severus to reach out her hands at what she assumed to be an easy enough level for his stature.
Severus furrowed his brows which then elicited, inevitably, the lowering of his lips into a sour scowl, though, this time it was one of meagre confusion married with concentration.
He took her left hand in his before crossing his right over the joined pair to then clasp the digits of her own right hand, raising a bemused brow at how extensively his own swallowed hers. Indeed, hers were barely visible once enveloped with his. It was, almost, winsome.
Almost.
The bound formation of their hands was certainly quite literal, but Hermione couldn't help but find it strangely ...comforting? In a secure sort of way, at least. There was certainly no faltering on her part that could separate them and ruin anything, which quieted some latent perfectionist anxiety. She glanced up at Kingsley briefly.
"Like this?"
Kingsley gave a short nod.
"Yes, good. Now I bid you to look into each other's eyes. I will be reading out four vows. After every one is read, you will each agree to it and a cord will be cast. Once the final cord is cast, we will move onto the rings, and then it must be sealed with a kiss. Understood?"
Severus' head jerked to the right as he stared at the man incredulously.
"What. Ever. Happened. To. This. Being 'a stripped down version', Kingsley?" He arched his left brow as high as was physically possible, as a small panic began to wash over his body.
Minerva inhaled a snort of piqued fondness for the ever morose veteran before her. He would overthink everything but the obvious.
"You haven't been to many weddings, have you?"
"This is the stripped down version. The long version has thirteen vows and just as many cords, would you rather that one?" Kingsley pressed with a calm quirk of his brow
"NO, thank you," Hermione answered for them both with a fair amount of confidence, side eyeing Severus afterwards for confirmation.
"I'd probably lose feeling in my hands by then."
"For fuck's sake, certainly not!" Severus clamoured with a growl, his words intertwining with Hermione's at almost the same time. He looked to her just at the moment she had to him and he found himself suppressing a grin of commissary. Her second comment however, moderately concerned him.
"Er, sorry," he muttered under his breath to her, his hands slacking their hold on hers in order to amend the complaint, almost to a fault as his hands were the ones in control, being the dominant parties.
"I sometimes forget the size of them. Not used to much touch save that of my wand or a knife's handle, or a beaker, etcetera…"
Hermione chuckled a bit nervously at his equally nervous rambling, gripping back onto his hands to keep them in place lest he let the contact drop completely, granted her fingers struggled to wrap around his hands.
"You're fine, just the positioning. That was mostly an exaggeration..." she insisted, hopefully to his encouragement. Frankly she was pleasantly surprised he was being so cooperative. Making him more uncomfortable than he likely already was, wasn't her intention.
He eyed her silently, his hands returning her pressure in equal force and he took a step forward so that if he was the source of any further discomfort left unsaid, he hopefully, had righted it. Other than that, however, Severus returned to his normal stance of perfunctory tolerance.
"Can. We. Please. Get. This, over with?!" He snarled lowly to the Minister before them, his mood suddenly growing quite astringent with the added contact and the impressive adiposity of what they were very speedily about to enter into.
Kingsley cleared his throat rather forcefully to signal them to hopefully shut their mouths so he could, indeed, get it over with. Once he was satisfied that the point had gotten across, he looked down at the book and began to read.
"Severus and Hermione, I bid you look into each other's eyes."
He glanced up to ensure they were actually obeying the command before quickly dashing forwards into the first inquiry.
"Will you honor and respect one another, and seek to never break that honor?"
Hermione swallowed and met her former professor's eyes as directly as she could. At least they were starting off easy. There wasn't much demand in that, varying on definition...
"I will."
Severus' posture stiffened and his breath strained in his chest as he responded lazily.
"I will," he uttered between almost clenched teeth, his eyes darting between hers nervously.
"And so the first binding is made."
Kingsley waved his wand, and a thin, shimmering red cord shot out and wrapped snuggly around their intertwined hands.
Hermione tried and failed to silence a sudden sharp intake of breath at the bizarre sensation of their hands being lashed to one another with the glimmering and frankly tingling length of condensed magic, glancing down distractedly at the sight.
So this was a very literal binding then. She had seen it occur previously, had attended magical weddings a couple of different times, but for some reason she had always assumed the process had been more of a light show, a play on the delicate laying of lace and ribbons from the prototypical Pagan handfasting rituals of old, than a true physical constraint. She had assumed incorrectly.
Fascinating
Severus had never quite seen magic like this; the strong red ribbon weaved its form around their hands in a blaze of light and shimmer that was almost dazzling before pulling itself taunt so that their hands were asked to grip onto each other's with more strength and need than the rather sheepish hold they had favoured before.
Though his curiosity was certainly piqued, the context of the introduction to such a phenomenon did, unfortunately, cause the learned man more pause than his inquisitive mind usually would have ever given. Indeed, there was no telling what kind of magic was bound up in this ceremony. For all he knew, they could be clandestinely lacing them with bloody fertility charms. Not Kingsley, of course - not knowingly. And though unlikely, he wouldn't necessarily put it past the breeding-hungry heathens down the hall.
"Will you share each other's pain and seek to ease it?" Kingsley pressed on, undeterred by their clear distraction, though he observed it closely, for any sign of true upset or disruption in the ritual.
Minerva watched with hitched breath at the ceremony, though having seen many forms of it before, not to mention that of her own, she was still a bit awestruck by the visible intensity of the force binding them. Usually, that was a testimony to the love and devotion of the parties willingly getting united. Or so it was usually said…
Narrowing his eyes at the vermilion coloured thread that seemed to zap them both with its very presence, Severus squeezed her hands in reaction. His eyes flirted up to hers curiously as he answered in turn.
"I will."
Though the precursor to his promise he hardly heard so distracted had he been. Which, honestly, was likely for the best. He'd have time to read it over enough when they received their copy of the license.
"I will," Hermione echoed, blinking out of her daze to lock eyes with Severus once again.
So far these 'vows' were less to do with devotion and more to do with kindness and respect, which made this process quite a lot easier than she expected to be genuine about. It hardly seemed difficult to 'vow' to have common courtesy.
"And so the binding is made," the minister repeated, and he added a second cord which draped itself atop the first, going the opposite direction and seemed to radiate even further light. He paused for a breath, once again, letting them grow accustomed to the tightening and ensuring neither of the two were resisting it with too much force.
There was something to be said for magic having some sort of will of its own, at the end of the day, and forcing such a coupling without some level of cooperation from the parties involved could end...badly.
"Will you share the burdens of each other so that your spirits may grow in this union?"
Severus acknowledged the words though easily shrugged them off as nothing more than a flowery way of saying that they'd have to mature with one another as they lived through life. Luckily for him he had had a head start, and not to be morbid, but if all went to shite, at least he'd have a closer 'exit strategy.'
But in all seriousness, whilst the sentiment was certainly there, it wasn't overflowing, per say. At least, not objectively. And that fact was able to aid in putting his mind a tad more at ease. After all, if they were to actually end up living their lives together, he might as well begin to swallow the idea that standing side-by-side against the world would be far wiser than trying to contest it's inevitable 'slings and arrows' apart. Life's carnage, it must be recalled, could be an incredibly erratic thing.
"I will," he answered verily enough. After all, he had spent just over a decade protecting and saving her life. And she had just done the same twice over for him. Therefore, they honestly seemed rather adept when it came to that particular vow.
"I will," Hermione returned almost casually, the tension in her body beginning to ease some, despite the further tightening of the hold on their hands.
They were almost through and so far everything was quite simple and straightforward, really. Though she had to wonder if the bonds were intended to be as... tangible as they were. Not painful, but definitely radiating a sort of heat and energy she hadn't expected. She found herself squeezing his hands reflexively in preparation as Kingsley raised his wand once more.
"And so the binding is made," he announced once again, the third cord criss-crossing the first two, and causing the areas of overlap to pulse, like a grid or forcefield was beginning to form.
Hermione let out a quiet hiss at the sensation, more startled than feeling any true pain. Though there was certainly a pressure surrounding their hands now, a sort of warm, throbbing entrapment that left her nervous to move so much as a fingertip within its confines.
Severus instinctively took a step forwards at her outcry, both in an attempt to provide some slack to the ever-taunt binds as well as to allow his vision access to any injury or harm that he may have accidentally inflicted. His hands, he had realised, yet again, were quite tightly taking purchase of hers.
"Was it me? My apologies, Miss Granger… bloody massive mitts of mine," he muttered in jestful self-deprecation.
His narrowing of the distance between them somehow transferred a jolt of the warmth that had their hands gridlocked to seemingly settle somewhere in the pit of her stomach, and she had to clear her throat upon meeting his eyes before she could begin to respond to his assumption.
"Oh - no it wasn't you. These cords are...quite persistent," she replied, catching her breath somewhere in the middle of sentiment.
"The stability is...nice...actually."
What in the hell was that?
The spasm of fire, too, flew through him from their entangled hands and settled itself comfortably in his southern core. A place that had been dormant for decades, it felt, and a place that he was quite startled, and concerned, to have had awoken.
Especially by her.
"...Ah, I….see…." he answered bunglingly, taking a half step backwards so as to separate their front persons from one another concretely.
"And yes…. They rather are…. As long as you're alright though…?' he whispered in question gingerly.
Hermione gave a minute nod, watching him shift backwards the small distance that the bonds would allow, though the sensation was far slower to fade.
"Perfect," she breathed in response, with just enough of a dry crunch to normalize the sentiment. Her eyes tore themselves away from his, though to catch the mildly impatient set of Kingsley's jaw and give him a wordless incline of her head, permitting him to continue.
"Last, but not least," the minister began with a hint of relief -
"Will you share each other's laughter and look for the brightness in life and the positive in each other?"
As this last and most tender vow was read out, a minion from the Daily Prophet - of whom had been given clearance of course, by the Wizengamot itself, to the highly restricted office of the Minister for Magic - weaseled his way in through the back door without a single eye landing upon him.
The aid of a 'Notice-Me-Not' charm was certainly an accomplice to his success, as well as the corrupted guards that were stationed just outside Kingsley's doors.
He crossed over to the corner, by the foreboding fireplace, and positioned himself behind the farthest column, bulky camera in hand as he waited to stake claim of the likeness of the two cleverest magic folk that may have ever lived. Said photo, if he managed to get the timing exact, would show a kiss that would quite rapidly be seen around their world. And which would give him, not only a heavy coin sack, but also personal fame for having captured a moment that surely would be going down in Wizarding History.
"I will," Hermione found herself answering in an exhale of subtle relief, the complicated part seemingly coming to a close. Well, not exactly yet, but at least she wasn't vowing to anything demanding or nefarious, of that she could be certain. Unless the rings were made of barbed wire there should hopefully be no more surprises.
The ex-potions master clenched his jaw as he heeded the pledge with a flurry of distress as the implications of love, devotion, mutual respect, and joy were being fully presented as the predominant virtues of their, and really any, marriage. He felt a bit nauseous. How could he ever, in good faith, promise a covenant composed of such lofty, and forgotten ideals?
Nevertheless he replied with the affirmative. After all, what other choice did he have?
"I will."
The minister's wand stroked downward for one last, final time.
"And so the binding is made."
As the final cord joined it's fellows and wrapped around their hands, the entire room nearly radiated with red. So hot and vibrant was it that it suddenly seemed far closer to sunrise than the rather dull winter evening that had permeated around them moments before. Even Kingsley seemed mildly alarmed as the four cords formed a knot and then slowly vanished as though melting into their flesh.
Hermione still stared in wide eyed fascination, only after realising with a wince that she was probably digging her nails into Severus' hand and swiftly relaxed them as she looked from Severus to Kingsley.
"S-sorry. Was that supposed to happen?"
"... More or less," the Minister answered swiftly, with no real dedication, it seemed, to make his response thoroughly convincing.
"Minerva, the, uh, rings please?"
Minerva, who had also become, perhaps uncharacteristically, mesmerised by the outlandish pageantry that had just occurred before her eyes, was jolted abruptly to the present moment by Kingsley's deep voice.
"Oh, right, of course," she stammered as she handed Severus the smaller ring and Hermione the larger one.
Unable to process fully the denotation of what had just occurred with regards to their handfasting binds - lest he be utterly derailed and untethered - Snape decided it was a very good moment to cease any focus on that incident and, instead, to focus his merits on the next significant one: the exchanging of the rings.
Oh, it was getting official now, wasn't it?
Fuck.
And so, taking the delicate circle of gold, Severus noted with some reluctance at how very petite it was in his large hand. It gave him an odd, warning sense of foreboding, though he knew not why.
He also knew, though he might not admit it, that he had a dreadful habit of almost purposely choosing to misread any semblance of good fortune as that of bad fortune. Evidently, his debasement, guilt, and intolerance of himself was, and for now, ever would be quite abundant.
As she took the ring from Minerva's fingers, Hermione stopped to flex her own fingers restlessly. She could still feel the cords, like fleeting strands of fire, though the sensation was slowly, as before, beginning to fade. Still, she felt inclined to study her hands to make sure there was no visible indication of them etched into her skin.
That was...a development, Kingsley mused, though made a point of disengaging his expression of surprise and concern, lest it startle any the others. He had done this - or variations of it, at least, while not as a regular occupation, at least a half dozen times. To say it had been something of an anomaly, was putting it mildly. Nevertheless, Kingsley cleared his throat and made a show of finishing his 'script'.
"As your hands are now bound, so will be your lives and your spirits. If you will exchange your rings now please, as a tangible symbol of this union."
Severus eyed Hermione momentarily as his hulking digits wrestled with the gold ring before grabbing it securely in his forefingers and presented it to her left hand with a wince of apology.
"May I?" he almost whispered, as his tongue darted across his lower lip. Perhaps, in an effort to prepare its foundation for what was about to, inexorably, occur.
Hermione nodded resolutely, her eyes flicking back up to his own. No matter her unease, there was a degree of relief that washed over her when she saw even he was displaying more nerves than before. Or perhaps it was just plain dread, she couldn't entirely tell, but the man was fumbling so that was something to perhaps selfishly appease her disordered thoughts.
"Yes, of course," she urged softly, keeping what was soon to be his wedding band balanced in her right hand between her thumb and forefinger while she presented him her left.
Severus merely eyed her for a moment, his gaze aloof and distant yet at the same time, felt, to him, dangerously close, before his digits took hers and slipped the ring on her left hand until it settled.
He inhaled sharply, stole a glance to Kingsley - completely avoided Minnie - before offering her his left hand in return. The fact that his nerves weren't giving way despite all of the bloody confusion he - they - had both just felt was purely due to his life's training.
Internally, he was shaking.
Her left hand flexed softly, her thumb instinctively crossing over to graze the foreign metal before reaching out to grasp his own hand to steady it. She glanced down from his mysterious expression to watch as she slid the ring home, the glint of gold close to being swallowed up by his sleeve once it reached the base of his finger, and slowly, she let her hands fall back.
Kingsley gave another nod of approval, giving the book one final glance before letting it close in his grasp with a muffled snap.
"With the authority vested in me by the ministry of magic for the United Kingdom, I pronounce you bound and wed upon your completion of this ceremony."
"You must kiss the bride."