The Ceremony

Chapter 2: The Ceremony

Hermione stood in front of a full length mirror frowning at what she saw.

Her light colored wedding robes swished around her ankles as she turned this way and that, trying to get a better view of herself. Her robes were tasteful: pleated to make the back look fuller, a thin cloak attached to her shoulders with gold clasps.

Lavender Brown stood behind her, rubbing her arms as if chilled. The room was quite warm.

"I don't know, Hermione," said Lavender finally. "It's creepy if you ask me."

"He has just as much right as anyone to choose a bride," said Hermione as she leaned towards the mirror and swabbed light blue eye shadow over her eyelids. "It could be worse. Would you rather have me chosen Goyle or Ollivander?"

"You know precisely what she means," said Cindy Dawkins, a blond sixth year and a friend of Lavender's said sharply. "I don't approve of this law and neither does she. Even if we have to put up with the law, a teacher shouldn't be able to petition for you. It's just wrong."

"Nevertheless, the law exists." Hermione insisted as she rustled through a white leather makeup bag and pulled out her mascara. "I don't intend to be a fugitive. Or have my memory modified to make me more compliant."

Cindy shook her head, unable to come up with another answer. A soft knock came from the door.

"Come in," Hermione called out. Professor McGonagall came through the door, followed by Ginny Weasley, who was wearing light blue dress robes.

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed. "This must be a first, I don't recall you ever visiting us before."

"I'm glad to see you're feeling well," McGonagall said nervously, as if expecting Hermione to burst into hysterical sobbing at any second.

"I'm feeling fine," Hermione said. "A little nervous, but altogether I feel fine. He won't pull me out of my classes and I doubt he'll stop my continued studies."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. Hermione noticed she was holding a small cluster of pink and white wildflowers.

"I'm glad you're going to be in the ceremony, Ginny." Hermione gave her a relieved smile. "I know it was short notice."

What she was really concerned with was whether Ginny wanted to be her friend anymore.

"Don't worry about it," Ginny said with a wave of her flowers. "What you should worry about is your dad."

"My dad?" Hermione said questioningly. "My parents are here?"

"Of course," McGonagall said stiffly. "The Ministry owled them about the betrothal as well as notifying them when the ceremony would be."

"He's been yelling at Snape for about a half an hour now," said Ginny giggling. "Snape's been trying to convince your dad he really was the best choice, but your dad isn't going for it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He let him get on a roll." She sighed. "If you let him get started, he never lets up. You need to cut him off early before he gets into it."

"For some reason he thinks Snape's been perving after you for the last seven years and he's furious," Ginny said, eyebrows raised.

"I've got to stop this." Hermione started out of the room.

"Nonsense," McGonagall said sternly, placing both her hands on Hermione's shoulders and steering her back to the mirror. "Dumbledore will break it up when he thinks it's gone on too long."

Hermione turned back to her makeup bag, although hesitantly. She pulled out tweezers and began shaping her eyebrows.

"Your things will be moved before the end of the ceremony," McGonagall said quickly.

"Moved?" Hermione said quizzically. "To where?"

"The quarters you will share with your husband," said McGonagall with a bitter look on her face. "You are married, of course." She pulled her robes around herself tighter.

"Of course," Hermione said hollowly.

She felt coldness creep into her stomach. She didn't know why the details had failed to elude her before.

True, Snape was keeping her away from the Death Eaters, and apparently Mr. Ollivander, who she would never look at in the same way ever again, but he didn't have to make this pleasant for her.

"It's almost time for the ceremony, Hermione," Ginny said quickly. "We should get going."

Lavender lifted a lace veil out of a bag and pinned it to Hermione's soft curls.

"You'll be fine," Ginny said. "Don't look so terrified. I'm sure he... has some redeemable qualities."

"Like what?" Lavender snapped.

"She can now bottle fame, brew glory--" Ginny began.

The Gryffindor girls giggled.

"Don't tell me he's still giving that inane speech," McGonagall said sharply. She looked appalled.

"He gets better at flapping for emphasis every year," said Hermione. "Maybe I can put a stop to that."

"Good point," said Lavender, handing her a bouquet of white roses. "But you can stop it later; first you have to get the deed done."

Hermione took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror one last time.

The veil was white and woven with tiny gold threads to make it shimmer warmly. Her makeup and a clever charm made her face look blemish free and her cheeks flushed prettily from nervousness.

"I'm ready," Hermione said finally, letting her breath out.

Ginny opened the door and the group of women walked down the staircase, descending to the Great Hall where Hermione's betrothed waited for her.

-+-+-

Hermione stood behind Ginny as soft music tinkled from the Great Hall.

Most ceremonies took place in more traditional places, but since both bride and groom resided at Hogwarts and Dumbledore was qualified to perform weddings, Dumbledore had argued to the Ministry that a small ceremony on the grounds would cause less of a disruption to the body of the school.

To everyone's surprise, the Ministry had agreed, but Hermione had pointed out that it was an excuse for the governors to make an inspection with little preparation on the school's behalf.

Ginny hugged Hermione quickly before starting a slow march through the large double doors that lead into the Great Hall.

Hermione's father stood beside Hermione in a Muggle tuxedo and took her arm. He stood slightly shorter than her, his silver hair shining in the candlelight.

"He'll take care of you," said her father gruffly. "From what I understand it was the best option. It was between him and that Mundungus."

Hermione stifled a laugh at the idea of being wed the dirty little man that so much resembled a pile of rags. "I suppose so."

"I'm sorry, kitten," Hermione's father said, trying not to get emotional. Hermione heard the strain in his voice.

"Dad, it'll be alright," Hermione insisted as she hugged him; not knowing whether or not it would be alright at all.

Her father wiped his eyes hastily with a handkerchief he pulled out of his pocket and looked at her.

"You look beautiful," he said, straightening her veil.

"Thanks, Dad."

She took his arm and they began the slow march through the doors, up to the podium that had been moved to the front of the Great Hall, where the teacher's table normally was.

The long tables the students normally ate on had been moved to encircle the room and food was piled on them. Hermione spied small white tables and chairs stacked in one corner. She supposed when the ceremony was over someone would rearrange everything in the Hall to accommodate dining.

The long wooden benches that went with the Hogwarts' tables were positioned to watch the ceremony.

"Amazing what people can do on such short notice," Hermione whispered to her father, staring at the sea of heads, not really recognizing anyone.

He chuckled at her.

She could see Snape as they approached the front of the hall. He turned from Dumbledore to look at her. She nearly expected him to flinch, but his face was unreadable.

He was wearing a high collared shirt and black long coat. A burgundy ascot lay at his throat and a white flower was pinned to his coat. His raven hair was caught behind his neck with a white silk ribbon.

Hermione couldn't help but notice he actually looked a little handsome when he decided to put forth a little effort.

Hermione felt her cheeks burn and she stared at the long red carpet her feet tread on, leading her to her betrothed.

As her father put her hand in Snape's, she felt her veins burn cold.

Dumbledore chanted the binding spell that entwined them magically.

Hermione heard herself recite the appropriate words at the right time. She heard Snape do the same. Then she heard Dumbledore close the book, ending the ceremony.

Nothing prepared her for the feel of his lips on hers.

They were warm. Not dry at all. The gentle pressure startled her and she jumped slightly.

Snape drew back and frowned for a split second.

Then he abruptly took her arm and stalked down the aisle, dragging her behind him. He dragged her out of the Great Hall and down to the dungeons.

"Aren't we even going to eat?" Hermione asked as she stumbled behind him.

"There is food in my quarters," said Snape. "I had the elves prepare it for us before anyone else had the chance to get to it. Didn't you see who was present?"

"No," said Hermione crossly. He certainly wasn't going to start this out by bossing her around. "I didn't get to see much of anything."

"There were several unsavory persons from the Ministry that I wouldn't put past the idea of slipping potions into the food," said Snape, frowning at her.

He stopped at a stone statue of a fish and muttered a password.

"Veritaserum?" Hermione asked as the statue moved aside and a portal opened in the wall.

"Possibly," said Snape bitterly, stepping into the quarters they now shared. "If they felt particularly kind."

A table was filled with platters and bowls of the food that was available upstairs.

From the entrance, Hermione could see a fireplace set into the same wall as the portal, a wooden door on the right side of the room, and a large window looking out over the lake.

She was surprised to see the view, but reasoned that since the castle was built on a small drop before the lake started there was no reason why one side of the dungeons couldn't have windows.

There was a low, black couch with a small table in front of it in front of the fireplace. A threadbare black carpet was the only thing that decorated the floor. Small book cases doubled as low tables throughout the room. A comfortable looking black chair sat near the window.

It wasn't homey, but it wasn't as stark as she'd expected. She looked at her new home and took a deep breath.

There were so many things going through her head, she wasn't exactly sure which one was making her feel so jittery.

"I wish I would have gotten to say good bye to my parents," said Hermione, looking at the portal close. It seemed like a melodramatic end to a chapter in her life.

"I know this may be difficult for you, Miss Granger," Snape said slowly. "Your parents were told I would be whisking you off right away. They were instructed to mingle for awhile, then someone will bring them here. They have been told not to sample the food upstairs."

"I hear my dad gave you a hard time." Hermione sounded apologetic.

Snape snorted.

"Nothing unexpected. I would do the same thing for my daughter," he thought for a moment. "There would have been more fire, of course."

Hermione stifled a giggle, though not very well. Snape looked at her sharply. It didn't help.

"That was a really funny visual," she said, trying to compose herself. She felt slightly hysterical.

A corner of his mouth quirked for a split second before he scowled.

"Your quarters are in here," said Snape, walking to a portrait of a black cat sleeping on a pink pillow. He meowed at it softly and the cat blinked sleepily and opened its eyes.

"Emicoatus," Snape whispered at the painting.

The cat yawned and its mouth grew wider.

So wide in fact, that it began to widen over the canvas.

"Is this supposed to happen?" Hermione asked Snape. He nodded sharply.

The wide grin began to stretch the stone frame and all the color turned grey. A tiny pinhole in the wall started to widen, revealing a room behind the wall.

When it finally stopped, it had widened into an arched door frame with two tiny points at the top.

"Who came up with this?" Hermione asked, amazed.

"Helga Hufflepuff," said Snape, stiffly. "These were her original quarters. I'm still not sure I've found everything hidden in here. Apparently she had a fondness for charms."

Hermione stepped in the doorway and blinked at her room. The deep burgundy and gold she was accustomed to was gone, replaced with a deep midnight blue and accented with silver trim.

"A particular house-elf took it upon himself to make sure it was up to his specifications," Snape said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh dear," said Hermione wincing. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble."

"It made for an easier transition with his preparations."

Hermione had been looking at the king sized canopy bed. The frame was wrought iron with silver vines painted over it, twining up into the fabric. The comforter was velvet and such a deep blue it was almost black. It was very soft to the touch and Hermione suspected it was enchanted. Crookshanks was purring merrily in the center of it.

"Well, you've certainly made yourself at home," Hermione remarked to him. Crookshanks yawned widely and pulled himself to his feet.

A pool of long, ginger hair remained where he was sleeping. Velvet. What was Dobby thinking?

Crookshanks padded over to her and butted her hand with his head. She stroked him for a few seconds and he flopped back on the comforter.

"Lazy," she accused.

There was a small table with four white wooden chairs around it in the center of the room. Hermione felt relieved. It seemed to imply Snape expected her to have people in her room.

A light blue desk was pushed against one wall near a small window. A much larger window was near the bed. Dobby had been thoughtful enough to position the bed so that Hermione could see out of it without leaving her bed. Hermione saw the top of a stone gargoyle's head as she glanced out the window.

Snape pushed a pewter panel with an engraving of Celtic knot work on it, and Hermione turned her head towards him as stone began to grind and a hidden door opened, revealing her private bathroom.

Snape motioned for her to follow him and Hermione walked into a bathroom that looked as if it were made from growing stone. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, much like the Great Hall. The bathtub, seamlessly rising from the floor, was a piece of hollowed out granite. Water poured from a small waterfall coming out of the wall. Small ferns and flowers grew in small pockets of earth set in the stone.

Hermione's bathroom things were arranged on stone shelves flanking a mirror above a carved stone sink. Celtic knot work flowed around the mirror and sink.

"This is incredible," Hermione awed. "She took this much time to do a bathroom? Why aren't you using it?"

"I don't believe bathing should be an out of doors experience." He sniffed imperiously. "I understand she took her bathing time seriously."

"No kidding," said Hermione looking at the openmouthed frog fixture perched on the edge of her sink. A soft knock resounded from the main room.

"I think your parents are here," Snape said, shivering.

Hermione stifled a grin.

Snape walked to his receiving room and put his hand on a square pewter panel on the wall near the fireplace. Dumbledore walked through the portal that opened in the bare portion of wall.

"Would you like some food, Headmaster?" Hermione asked politely, wondering where her parents were.

"Yes, thank you," said Dumbledore walking over to a tea service on a small cart Hermione had not noticed before. He poured himself a cup of tea and went to fill his plate from the assortment of food on the table.

"Your parents will not be joining us, however." Dumbledore looked at Hermione over the top of his gold wire-rimmed glasses. "It seems your father was so nervous he forgot the warning to refrain from eating." Dumbledore quickly glanced at Snape.

Snape frowned.

"What happened?" Hermione's face went pale and she sunk to the low black couch Severus had placed in front of his fireplace.

"Nothing all that serious," Dumbledore said with a wave of his hand. He sat down on the black couch with a heavy swish of his dress robes. "Just got hold of a prototype. He'll be fine in a few days."

"A Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes prototype?" Snape asked, his face turning stony.

"Yes, that would be the company," Dumbledore said quickly. He held a muffin out to Hermione. "Muffin?"

"What happened?" asked Hermione in a relieved tone as she took it and sat beside him. "I'm assuming it was just a shape-changing spell. They're working on pigs now, aren't they?"

"Actually, they're working on shrinking candies," said Dumbledore.

"I don't know why you take them so seriously." Snape had a stern look on his face. "They're a liability."

"They're creative." Dumbledore arched an eyebrow at Snape.

"Well, if it's between shrinking or being poisioned, I'll take shrinking," Hermione said testily.

"How small is he?" Snape asked, interested. He examined the selection of food and finally reached for a turkey leg. He picked at it with his fingers instead of biting into it.

Hermione was amazed at how neatly he could eat something so messy.

"About the size of a mouse," Dumbledore said. "Give or take."

Snape nodded. "How long until it wears off?"

"It should be a few hours, but he shouldn't have shrunk that much. Apparently it was a lot stronger than expected. He should be back to himself in a week," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Your mother was just saying he needed to take some time off."

"Where is he now?" Hermione asked with a worried expression.

"St. Mungo's," Dumbledore and Snape said in unison.

Hermione blinked.

"It's the only place with the capabilities to care for someone that's been shrunk," Snape explained.

"You would know all about that," Dumbledore chuckled as he took a bite of food.

"You shrunk yourself?" Hermione asked Snape, trying not to chuckle.

"It wasn't intentional." Snape snorted, picking at his turkey leg.

"During his O.W.L.s," Dumbledore said, shaking his head with a smile.

"Anyway, St. Mungo's has excellent facilities," Snape said to Hermione. "He'll have a fully functioning home his size made out of balsa wood. When he expands he'll just break out, as it were."

"I take it mum went with him?" Hermione asked Dumbledore. He nodded as he sipped his tea.

Hermione finally felt her stomach lurch. She was married and she had barely got to see her parents. She looked at the table of food near her and her stomach growled.

"I heard that from here," Snape said. "Eat or you'll make yourself sick."

Hermione got up and put a little turkey and fruit on her plate. Snape looked displeased, but stayed silent as she went back to her place on the couch.

"Well," said Dumbledore, setting his plate down on the low table in front of him. He clapped his hands together before he rose to his feet. "This has been quite an exciting day. I suppose you'll want to get some sleep before classes tomorrow."

Snape walked Dumbledore over to the portal that led out into the school.

"Goodnight, Hermione," Dumbledore said. "I suggest you get to bed soon. Something tells me you'll have quite an exciting day tomorrow."

"Of course, sir," Hermione said. "Goodnight."

They shook hands before Dumbledore left and the portal closed up behind him.

Hermione was left alone with Snape.

Hermione had been alone with Snape before, but never as a part of his household. She supposed she was going to have to learn to adapt. She knew this was probably as much of a shock for him as it had been for her, and she didn't know what to say or even if it was appropriate to say anything at all.

She nibbled at her food in silence and discovered how hungry she really was. She looked up and realized Snape was cutting into a slab of vanilla frosted chocolate cake. It was decorated with small blue rosettes.

"What?" Snape asked sharply as he returned her stare.

"It's just--" she began. "That's my wedding cake. It's all kind of strange."

"Do you want to help cut it?" Snape asked, frowning.

"No," she said testily. "I was just remarking that this was the last thing I was expecting when I went to bed last night."

"There was nothing else we could do," Snape said as he approached her and sat on the other side of the couch. "We tried to get you disqualified altogether."

"I understand this wasn't done lightly," said Hermione. "But I'm sure there must be some plan beyond the school year. There's only a month left until end of term, what will happen then?"

"We have several choices, but we'll know our assignment for certain soon," said Snape as he leaned over and shoved some of his cake onto her plate. "In the meantime, we kept you away from several unsavory elements."

"Mr. Ollivander is a Death Eater?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"Gads, no!" Snape exclaimed. "He's just a lecherous old man in need of an heir. Or two. Or a dozen."

Hermione shivered.

Crookshanks padded into the room and leapt on the couch between Snape and Hermione. Hermione stroked his fur and he purred happily. He walked over to the other side of the couch and butted his flat orange face into Snape's hand. Snape scratched him behind the ears.

"I have scrolls to grade, kitty," Snape said. "I cannot sit about and scratch you all evening."

Crookshanks purred louder and crawled onto Snape's lap.

"Is he always this distracting?" Snape asked, frowning at the content cat.

"It's easier if you don't let him onto your lap until after you're at your desk," said Hermione, shrugging. She reached over and picked up her cat. "I'll take him. I have a paper to write, anyway."

Snape rose to his feet as Hermione walked to her chambers.

"Good night," Hermione said as she walked into the stone archway.

It slowly began shrinking and the gilded frame began to reappear as the portrait started revealing itself. The black cat finally completed his yawn and stretched. It purred contentedly and settled on its pillow.

Snape turned to look at the table of food. The elves would have it cleared by the morning.

He did have papers to grade. Perhaps they didn't have to be done right away, but he needed a distraction and there was nothing wrong with getting ahead. He prepared a plate of food, enough to last an evening and started to head into his bedroom.

Snape glanced back at the cat portrait on the opposite wall. His wife was in there. He shook his body to ward off the chill he felt rising from the base of his spine.

One day at a time.

They had no other choice.