He was standing in the surf, watching her running toward him, his heart beating wildly, knowing that any second she would be at his side. His hands reached out to her, aching to pull her into his arms. He saw the velvet softness of her cheek, the tilt of her mouth as she smiled at him, and his breath caught in his throat. She was so close now, nearly touching him. Suddenly her smile faltered, and she lifted her hands, blocking the sight of herself from him, turning her head as if from shame. Slowly she began to walk away, robbing him of all warmth and joy.
He wanted to run, to stop her, to keep her from leaving, but a heavy weight was trapping him in the sand and the mud. Glancing down, he saw that he was wearing his tunic and black, water-soaked, robes. The tide was now rising and almost to his knees, and his feet were buried in a dune that the roaring waves had pounded onto the shore.
He reached for his wand, but a spell came from somewhere on the beach and hexed it out of his fingers. He opened his mouth to yell for her but no sound passed his lips. Tears of frustration, then overwhelming sadness, slid down his cheeks as he watched her walking away, finally disappearing into the fog that rolled over the water and hung ghostlike in the cold and damp air.
He awoke from the dream, his face wet, and his throat tight.
He was losing her, and he had made no attempt whatsoever to fight for her. To fight for them both.
Somehow he had to reach her; had to find some way to overcome the ugliness that was not within her, but sat squarely on his shoulders alone. He resolved to do it immediately.
He walked to her cottage and saw at once that she was dragging a large suitcase over the threshold of the open, front door. "Are you leaving?" he asked in a hoarse tone.
"Yes. I'm going on a trip." She had been startled to see him stepping out of the shadows toward her, but she attempted a small smile.
"A trip?" he licked his dry lips, a hollow, cold void forming in his stomach.
"It's actually not a trip, as such, Severus", she sighed and straightened her back. "I'm not going to return." Her voice was almost a whisper.
Blood rushed to his ears. "It's because of me, isn't it?"
"No, Severus. It's because of me." She balanced the heavy suitcase against the railing of her small, front porch to keep it from toppling. "I have made you unhappy, and day by day you grow sadder. I just can't stand to see what I've done to you. You loved me once and then you stopped, and that's alright. I can understand that. But I can't stand to see you suffering on my account. "
"Lara… "He started toward her.
"No, Severus, let me have my say. Please," her eyes begged.
"Alright," he whispered.
"You are a really good man, and you would not hurt me for the world, to the point where you would give up your happiness for mine. You deserve better, Severus."
He stared at her, his eyes dark and tinged with sorrow.
"You are very, very wrong," he said firmly, walking to her and pulling her into his arms. He could feel her body shaking from the sob she tried hard to muffle. "I'm not a good man, not a kind man. And I don't deserve to be asking this of you, Lara, but please… please stay. Please don't leave me."
Through her tears he could see the sparkle of bright, rare emeralds.
Those eyes.
Nothing else had changed about her, but he didn't want to look away. Here he could clearly see the woman he loved. He no longer cared about anything else, as long as he could continue to look into her eyes and know that she dwelt within.
Had she been there all along? Had he just not taken the time to search for her? Had he been too distracted by the strange distortions that the charm had placed upon her body, and not bothered to look through the windows of her soul?
He took her in his arms and kissed her cheek and the dewy skin that he remembered. His lips found hers and his senses reeled, as much from the realization of how close he had come to losing her, as from the heat that coursed through his body at her nearness.
"You can't leave," he whispered in a warm breath against her ear. "We have a wedding to attend."
"A wedding?' she pulled back in confusion. "Who's wedding?"
His coal black eyes once more sought out the deep sea green under her thick lashes. "Ours," he held his breath nervously, "If you'll have me."
She had refused his offer of a large and elaborate ceremony. Snape, of course, was secretly pleased, as he abhorred the thought of wining and dining the nincompoops of the village, who now suddenly treated Lara as the Queen of the May, but he had been prepared to go along with any of her dreams and wishes.
She settled instead on a very small service in the chapel and an equally tiny reception at his cottage, directly following the nuptials, as they had decided to make this slightly larger house their permanent home.
While Lara dressed and prepared for the ceremony, Severus slyly snuck into the village and decorated the small chapel in preparation.
He hung garlands of fragrant pine boughs from the rafters, accenting them with mistletoe and holly berries in the spirit of the winter season. He placed large and fragrant beeswax candles throughout the dark interior, bathing it in a warm and shimmering glow.
There was no organ or other means of music, but the few people who were invited were later heard to remark about the beautiful sound of a string quartet that none of them had visibly noticed.
"It was all quite magical," Herman Vanderplug had shrugged his shoulder, which also magically no longer ached from arthritis.
She was in white, he in black. Other than these traditional touches, nothing about the wedding in the cozy little church was vaguely familiar to the handful of town's people who were seated amongst them.
The man who officiated at the rites was not from the village, Margena Skoff noted in a loud whisper to her husband Thomas. She was shocked to see that the man's beard reached nearly to his knees, purple and sage-green robes billowing around his tall frame. It was almost as though he read her mind, she thought, as every time she raised her curious expression to his face, he caught her eye and answered with a wink.
There were a number of other guests that Margena assumed were from the groom's side of the family, she being familiar with every villager as well as any piece of gossip that may have been attached to them. A woman with long flowing hair and large coke bottle glasses wound her way up the aisle, bumping into several of the pews and excusing herself to no one in particular, with a red faced smile. Her dowdy gown was covered by a long cobalt blue jacket that was sprinkled with small gold stars. Closely behind her followed a very short man who barely reached the height of the woman's knees. He had a snow white beard and hair as soft as cotton batting, floating in clouds around his wide, pink, and cheery face.
Carnival people, Margena thought, nodding to herself knowingly. Her uncle had run away and joined the carnival as a boy, and didn't he have stories from that one eventful year? She wondered whether they were family to the handsome groom, wondering as well how he had escaped the life of circus tents and sideshows, gaining instead an acceptable profession in the field of medicine.
But not even her certain knowledge of the occupation of the young man's friends and family prepared her for the next visitor to walk down the aisle. The floor shook as he entered, and Margena's jaw dropped at the site of the towering man as he ducked to keep from touching the lowest rafter of the chapel. He took the very front pew, allowing him to sit less encumbered with no other seat before him. Even so, his stout stature filled up the entire pew, arms spread to his sides, enormous ham hands resting on the oaken seat. His hair was wild and unruly, despite the swipes he took at it with outsized fingers.
Moments later Margena's eyes widened when a velvety gray and black striped cat entered the chapel and, sleekly as you please, leapt with grace right next to the giant, and settled itself primly at his side.
Animals in a chapel! She gasped to herself. What's next? Surely soon the clowns would appear!
But just as she had been certain that the next group coming through the door would at least be dressed in acrobatic tights and tutus, she was almost disappointed to see three quite ordinary youngsters entering in a polite and mannerly fashion. The two young men wore nice clean shirts and trousers and neatly pressed ties, although the one had a rather large scar on his forehead. Ah, perhaps he is the acrobat after all, bearing the mark of a recent fall, she opined. The girl looked rather plain but with a nice shapely build. Margena couldn't decide on her occupation. Perhaps in makeup and colorful clothing, she might be an assistant to the tall, red headed boy, picturing him in magician's robes.
The groom turned just in time to see the entrance of these three, and his eyebrow shot up to his hairline. The dark eyes took them in slowly, and his mouth set in a puckered smirk, then quickly transformed into a small smile as he nodded at them briefly. They returned his smile with varying degrees of pink tinged blushes.
The music started to play softly and the stately man in the elaborate robes beckoned the bride and groom to approach. From the front pew came the sound of loud sobbing, then a honking, quite similar to the noise of geese and ganders at mating time. The giant reached inside his massive leather coat and brought out a tablecloth-sized kerchief, dabbing at tears that flowed down his ruddy cheeks and into his full and wiry beard. He put his knuckles to his mouth in an attempt to suppress a wail, but wasn't entirely successful.
As his eyes locked into hers, Severus gazed deeply into the green pools and saw her once again as he had known her. He no longer minded that his eyes couldn't take in the beauty that the villagers saw in her. He wished for a moment that the magical people in the chapel could see her as they once had, walking on his arm in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, every eye drawn to her. But if they were shocked at the change in her appearance, they did not let on. Severus surmised that Dumbledore had revealed the details of the charm to them with instructions to act in an appropriate manner, whatever their reactions might be.
It truly didn't matter to Snape, other than fearing that a word or a glance might spoil the day for Lara. He sought only the beauty that came from within the woman, and his heart was full to the point of bursting as he took her hand, and with the small gold band, prepared to join her with him for all time.
Slipping it on her finger, he noticed that her nails were… what had she told him once upon a time? Polished?
He stared at them, pink and perfect and surrounded by alabaster skin that was so radiant that it almost glowed. He remembered seeing her hands like this once before, remembered his slight embarrassment as his mind had treated him to the vision of the rest of her body.
His eyes drifted up from her hands, along her arms, slender and feminine, the fine golden hairs shimmering in the candle's light. He could see the slight beat of her pulse at the curve of her throat as she tilted her head up to his. Her deep auburn hair lay in shining curls against the back of her neck, silky ribbons that he ached to touch, almost as much as the lips that now trembled slightly as she spoke the words that bonded their union.
He felt his own part in surprise. He could see her clearly now, without the distortions of the charm.
"Albus… "He began, his confusion growing.
"Severus," the old man chuckled deeply in his throat. "This is no time for discussions. I believe that your bride is waiting to be kissed."
Margena Skoff was disappointed. She was terribly eager to meet some of the carnival people who had attended the wedding. She looked forward to a most interesting reception. Therefore it was a letdown when she plainly overheard the conversation between the bridegroom and the tall man in the ceremonial garb.
"We would love to stay a while, Severus, but the train will be leaving within the hour and the Hogwarts Express waits for no one. There are gifts that have been delivered to your home. Mine is the red box - chocolates from Paris. Pay no attention if one or two are missing."
"Right," Snape raised his trademark eyebrow. "But Albus… "
"We'll talk soon, Severus. We really mustn't be late", the blue eyes twinkled.
Margena wasn't familiar with this Hog express, but reasoned that it was an inexpensive cattle car train that would carry the carnival people to wherever it was where they were presently entertaining. Somewhere south, she nodded to herself sagely, where the weather was beginning to show signs of spring and crowds were certain to gather. She would share these observations with Thomas at tea that evening, he not being as knowledgeable about these things.
The reception was short and just as curious, as Mrs. Skoff told her friends the following day. The food and the wine were perfectly acceptable, but the gifts that were piled high in the assorted rooms were certainly not something that she would have chosen for a wedding. There were colorful jars and bottles containing strange looking herbs and potions, and something that resembled the horn of an animal. Most unusual of all, a tall, gilded bird's cage, and peering from within, the round eyes of a large spotted white owl. But then again, carnival folk were known to have quite a meager income and she supposed that they were forced to be creative. She glanced at the silvery cloak that someone had tied with a ribbon and set upon the sideboard. It was quite transparent, probably worn thin from age and use. She sighed softly to herself, grateful for her life, so much more glamorous and luxurious.
It was the moonlight that awakened him, not that he had been long asleep. They had shuffled the stragglers politely out the door after a couple of hours of celebration, Snape a bit less polite than his gracious wife, and he had carried her into the room that contained the large and vast bed.
Oddly, it hadn't seemed quite so vast as the night had progressed, since Severus had been quite intent on bringing pleasure to his bride in every conceivable position, and she, more than eager to accept his attentions. Now he looked at her hand as the moonlight caught the small gold circle on her ring finger. He was certain that the ring had contained a charm that Albus had discovered, to allow him to see her once again as she truly was, and he couldn't deny that it made him happy, but deep in his heart he knew that the charm wasn't really necessary. They had found each other again, and the love he held for her in his heart was much stronger than what was merely revealed through his eyes. He curled his arm around her waist and slept, no longer plagued by his nightmares.
The chirping of birds awakened them both and she nuzzled her lips into his neck.
"Wife, if you are hungry, there is no need to nibble on me. At least not until after breakfast," he threw a cover over them both. "Nobby!"
The Elf cracked into the room, his smile a mile wide. "Good morning Sir and Mrs. Sir", he gave a small bow. "Nobby can serve the breakfast now?"
"If you would, Nobby. And Mrs. Snape prefers her tea with milk", Severus lounged back on his pillow, quite pleased with this surprise that he and Nobby had arranged afore hand.
"Yes Sir," Nobby continued to grin as he hurried to leave the newlyweds, who only had eyes for each other.
As he poured the water from the kettle, his smile died on his lips and a tear formed in the corner of his large eye. He had attended the ceremony, hiding high up in one of the rafters, and had hoped that the lovely mistress might be able to return to her former self once the rings were exchanged. But to his dismay, that hadn't happened. And yet, Master Severus didn't seem to mind or even notice.
Nobby had had some difficulty looking at the once lovely mistress, so he had concentrated his face on the blankets, when the ring on her finger had caught his eye. He remembered that it had been cast by Master Dumbledore himself, days before the wedding, and even remembered the words that the Master had engraved painstakingly into the tiny band.
Hope and Love.
He heard laughter coming from the bedroom as he approached the door, large tray in his hands, and the sadness lifted from his heart. He glanced out of the window and noticed that the warm morning sun had melted the remaining snow. Spring was on its way.