Three

Chapter Three

Severus Snape was in a foul mood. His mood had been foul for weeks, but today's was even worse than usual for two reasons.

The first was that today was the day that he and Hermione would have to file their Declaration of Betrothal. The form from the ministry had been sitting on a table in the parlour for the past thirty days. Each week, the warning hum got a little bit louder, but they had continued to ignore it. They were both determined to wait until the last day to actually file the Declaration. They had been sure that by this time they would have a solution, but it seemed they were no closer now than they had been thirty days ago.

The second reason was a gelatinous lump of purple slime that rested on the bottom of a standard number two silver cauldron. Another promising run of preliminary experiments had failed to develop into a viable potion, and he was at a loss to explain why. He Vanished the contents of the cauldron and then sat at his desk and pulled his calculations out to re-check them.

"This should have worked," he muttered. "It bloody-fucking-hell should have worked!"

An hour later, he had another batch of the potion started. He double-checked every ingredient for freshness and potency as he added it to the cauldron, and he weighed and measured everything twice. He was actually hoping that he had made a mistake on the first batch and that this one would turn out the way he knew it should.

A more realistic hope would be that he would win Witch Weekly's 'most charming smile' award. He snorted rather inelegantly at that thought. He knew he hadn't made a weight or measurement error in the potion. Nor had he over-heated it, over-stirred it, or exposed it to direct sunlight, which could ruin many potions. His home lab might not be in a dungeon, but it had no windows, and the door was charmed to block any sunlight that might seep through from the parlour.

With his calculations double-checked and the new batch of potion started, Snape had no reason to linger in the lab.

He sighed. He could no longer delay the inevitable.

He left his lab, slamming the door loudly as he did, and moved out into the parlour.

Hermione looked up from the parchment she and Filius had been studying.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"No," he snapped.

She might have tried to comfort him had she not felt the need to slam a door or two herself. She returned her eyes and her thoughts to the parchment in her hand, only half-listening to what he and Filius were talking about.

"I'll assume your latest effort was a failure?" Filius asked.

"Miserable."

"Which potion was this one?"

"It was supposed to thin out the mucus around the cervix to facilitate the little swimmers' journey toward nirvana. It should have worked, but it didn't. The separate components do their job, but when they're combined ... let's just say that a Triwizard champion couldn't have swum through the mess at the bottom of that cauldron. Were it actually used, it would act more as an impediment to conception than an aid."

Filius nodded his head in sympathy. "Hermione and I were just going over our latest efforts, as well. We change things – add inflections, remove emphases – but nothing seems to make a difference. It's frustrating to say the least."

"I've begun another batch ..."

"What did you say?" Hermione asked as she grabbed his arm.

Snape glared at her. "If you're going to interrupt a conversation, you could at least keep up with it."

"I'll apologise for my bad manners later. Now, what did you say?"

"I said that I've begun another batch of the failed potion."

"No, I heard that part. What did you say before? Something about the potion being an impediment rather than a help."

"I said that the potion, which was supposed to thin out the mucus around the cervix, would, if used, actually increase its viscosity."

"Thinner mucus would make it easier for the sperm to travel through the cervix, correct?"

"Yes. And thicker mucus tends to clog the opening of the cervix, making it virtually impossible for the sperm to get through."

"Which is the exact opposite of what you intended."

Snape rolled his eyes. "That's what I just said."

"Have you tried brewing a birth control potion lately?"

"The last thing the wizarding world needs is a birth control potion," Snape said rather snidely.

"Exactly."

It took a second for Snape's logical, well-trained mind to make the leap that Hermione's more intuitive brain had already made.

"The potion's effect was the opposite of what it should have been."

"We've had similar results with every charm we've tried, haven't we?" Hermione asked as she turned toward Filius.

"Indeed," Filius agreed, and then he shook his head. "Can the solution really be as simple as reversing the intent of our charms and potions?"

"There's only one way to find out," Snape said as he turned back toward his lab.

"We've a lot of work to do as well," Filius said. He climbed up onto his high stool and spread out a sheaf of parchments. He adjusted his glasses, dipped his quill into an inkwell, and bent over his work.

Hermione was soon seated next to him, her quill scribbling along in tandem with his.

The next time Snape emerged from his lab, it was after four o'clock, and his stomach was rumbling.

A few minutes later, he had put together a small meal of freshly sliced bread, chunks of cheddar cheese, and fresh fruit. He also had a pot of tea ready to pour.

He stuck his head out of the kitchen and called out to his colleagues, who were still bent over their work. "Filius, Hermione – come have something to eat."

"Is it lunch time already?" Hermione asked as she lifted her head.

"Lunch time? It's half gone four," Snape replied. "We're closer to supper than to lunch."

Filius wasted no time. He threw down his quill and jumped off his high stool quite nimbly for a wizard his age. "Merlin bless you, Severus," he said. "I'm famished."

"Now that I think about it," Hermione said, "so am I." She stacked her parchments neatly and joined the two men in the kitchen.

They talked quietly about their work as they ate. They were on their second pot of tea when there was a sudden, loud screeching noise from the parlour.

"What the bloody hell ..." Filius began. He stood and moved toward the sound.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Snape shouted. He nearly ran Filius over as he pushed past him out of the kitchen, fumbling his wand out of his sleeve as he went.

Hermione realised what the sound was just a fraction of a second after Snape did.

"Hurry, Filius! Hurry!" Hermione urged. "You have to witness it!" She grabbed Filius's hand and was nearly dragging him as she hurried after Snape. She had her wand in her hand, as well.

Their Declaration of Betrothal, which was still sitting on the table where Filius had placed it thirty days ago, was glowing with an eerie, reddish light, and it was emitting an ear-splitting whine.

"Hermione, give me your hand!" Snape reached out and Hermione placed her hand in his.

"I'm here," Filius squeaked out. "Do it, Severus. Quickly!"

"Locus originatum!" Snape shouted as he pointed his wand at the parchment.

It disappeared with a loud pop.

"Did we make it?" Hermione asked anxiously.

Snape glanced at the mantle clock. "It hasn't quite gone five yet," he said.

"How could we have forgotten? God only knows which odious cretin I'd have ended up with."

Snape could feel her hand trembling in his. He tugged on her hand gently, turning her to face him.

"At least I'm not a cretin," he said in a soothing tone.

"Are you fishing for compliments, Severus?" she asked.

"Me?" he asked mockingly.

She leaned into him and rested her head on his chest. She inhaled deeply through her nose.

"Sage, hyssops, cedar, balsam, and ... surprisingly ... lemon balm. Not the least bit odious."

His arms lifted to hold her close against his body.

"You should have gone into potions instead of wasting your time on charms," he said.

"Excuse me?" Filius spoke in an indignant tone.

With her head nestled on his chest, Hermione could both hear and feel the deep rumbling of Snape's amused chuckle.

"No offence intended, Filius," he added.

"Too late," Filius muttered, and Snape chuckled again.

The Floo in the office of the Special Coordinator had been extremely busy all day as those who had waited until the last day to make a suitable – and sometimes desperate – match filed their Declarations.

As the Declarations arrived, the Coordinator reviewed and approved them. Most of them were routine, but there were a few surprises. Who would have thought, for instance, that Pansy Parkinson, the spoiled and pampered daughter of an old, wealthy pure-blood family, would have consented to become the wife of Seamus Finnegan, a half-blood with no name or money? And what last-minute negotiations had taken place to pair a thug like Theodore Nott with a gentle soul like Parvati Patil?

Not that the Coordinator really cared who married whom. Every voluntary Declaration had been approved without question. There were only two people whose marriage prospects mattered. The afternoon waned and no Declaration of Betrothal for either Hermione Granger or Severus Snape arrived in the Floo. The Coordinator smiled; the plan was about to bear fruit, and the anticipation was intense.

The Coordinator's Declarations for Granger and Snape were ready to go. They'd been ready for weeks, actually. The Coordinator's only regret was that it would be impossible to see their faces when they learned the names of the spouses that had been chosen for them!

It was nearly five o'clock when the Floo activated again. A moment later, the warning charm signalled that incoming communications were closed. Any Declarations filed now could be approved or rejected at the discretion of the Coordinator.

Someone really was waiting until the last minute, the Coordinator thought as the last-to-arrive parchment unrolled itself on the desk.

"No! No! No!"

The frustrated shouts would have been heard on the highest floor of the Ministry if Privacy and Silencing Charms had not been in place on the Coordinator's office.

The joyous anticipation that had been present just a few short moments before was replaced first by disbelief and then by an almost immeasurable rage.

It wasn't fair! Five years of planning thwarted with only seconds to spare. It wasn't fair, and it couldn't be allowed!

With a flick of a wand, the offending document disappeared. It wasn't the Coordinator's fault, was it, if a Declaration got lost somewhere in the maze of Floo connections between its origin and its destination?

Another wand flick and the prepared Declarations were on their way.

If Hermione Granger and Severus Snape thought they had found a way to escape retribution, they were about to find out how very wrong they were!

Snape was surprised when the Floo in his parlour flared green barely two minutes after he'd sent their Declaration to the Ministry.

"Our confirmation is here already," he said as he scooped the rolled parchment from the cool, green flames.

"Let me see," Hermione said. She reached for the parchment, but Snape held it over his head and out of her reach.

"Not even married yet and already you're trying to read my mail," Snape grumbled.

Before she could reply, the Floo blazed again, and another parchment appeared.

"Read your own copy," he said as he plucked the second parchment from the Floo and handed it to Hermione.

"Thanks," she said. She slipped the tie from the parchment and unrolled it.

As her eyes skimmed the form, Hermione felt the blood drain from her head and the air leave her lungs in a strangled gasp.

"This can't be ..."

"Hermione ... Hermione!"

Through the buzzing in her ears she vaguely recognised Snape's voice calling her name.

The parchment slipped through her numbed fingers, and her knees began to buckle.

She didn't resist when Snape guided her to the sofa and sat her down.

"Bloody hell, it can't be that much of a shock to know we're to be married," he said. He was rubbing his neck.

Hermione shook her head. "Not you," she mumbled.

"Not me? What do you mean not me? Of course it's me!"

Filius picked up the dropped parchment and began to read out loud.

"'To Miss Hermione Granger: Having failed to file a valid Declaration of Betrothal before the required date and time, the Special Coordinator for Ministry Approved and Arranged Marriages has chosen an appropriate match for you from the list of eligible wizards.'"

"We bloody well filed on time!" Snape shouted.

Hermione shook her head. "It gets worse."

Filius continued to read. "'It is with hope for a fruitful union that the Special Coordinator has chosen Mr. Mundungus Fletcher to be your husband. Your marriage is scheduled to take place four weeks from today at two o'clock in the afternoon at the newly-created Office of the Extraordinary Registrar, which is located on the second floor of the Ministry. You may invite up to six people to witness the ceremony and share your special day ...'"

"Mundungus Fletcher," Hermione whispered. "I'm to be married to Mundungus Fletcher? Talk about your odious cretins ..."

"There must be a mistake," Snape said. "Fletcher is surely older than sixty ..."

Hermione shook her head again. "The law stated that witches and wizards between the ages of twenty and sixty were required to register, but it didn't exclude older people from volunteering. As long as they passed their fertility exam, anyone could be on the list."

"As a matter of fact," Filius put in, "there were a number of elderly wizards who were quite eager to have the opportunity to find a young, nubile wife."

"Perverts," Snape muttered.

"You must contact the Ministry in the morning and get this matter settled," Filius said. "It's obvious that the Declaration you and Hermione sent and these two crossed in the Floo. Once the Special Coordinator is made aware that you've already filed, these will be voided. If there's a problem, I'll make an official statement. I did witness your Declaration, after all."

"Thank you, Filius," Snape said.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said. She was starting to feel better now that she knew it was just an easily remedied mistake. She turned to Snape.

"Not that it matters, but who did the Ministry pick for you, Severus?" she asked.

"I never even opened my form," he said. He picked it up from where he had flung it when he rushed to Hermione's side.

His already pale complexion turned ashen as he read.

"It's a good thing I won't have to go through with this," he said with a shudder. "It would be the shortest marriage on record as I'd probably poison her within a week."

"Who is it?"

"Sybill Trelawney. The wedding is scheduled fifteen minutes after yours."

"That old fraud? She has to be another one of the 'volunteers'. She was fifty if she was a day back when I was in school."

"Looks like she's finally got her heart's desire," Filius said. "Wasn't she always inviting you up to her tower room for a reading?"

Snape flushed and threw a withering glare at the tiny wizard.

"There was never anything between Sybill Trelawney and me."

Nothing except that bloody fucking prophecy I had the misfortune to overhear, he thought with a twinge of conscience.

"Oh, but she would have liked there to have been. Which is why, I'm sure, she's made a special point of asking for you!" Filius said with an amused smile. "She probably thinks you and she are fated to be together."

"Not bloody likely," Snape muttered.

"Let's write out our letter, then," Hermione said. "I want to send it first thing in the morning. I certainly don't want The Daily Prophet announcing my engagement to Mundungus Fletcher."

In spite of Hermione's fervent wishes, the next day's edition of The Daily Prophet did, indeed, announce her betrothal to Mundungus Fletcher. It also announced Snape's arranged marriage to Sybill Trelawney, as well as several other arranged marriages between the remaining eligible witches and wizards.

The letter that Hermione and Snape sent to the Special Coordinator was answered within hours. Unfortunately, the response was not at all what they had anticipated.

Dear Miss Granger,

The Ministry of Magic and the Special Coordinator for Ministry Approved and Arranged Marriages are not responsible for lost or delayed Declarations of Betrothal.

The urgent nature of the crisis in the wizarding world makes it imperative that all eligible witches and wizards marry and begin procreating as quickly as possible. Therefore, when no Declaration was received from you, an appropriate match was arranged.

Although not obligated to do so, the Special Coordinator will contact your arranged partner, Mundungus Fletcher, to determine if he has been able to make another match and would be amenable to dissolving your current Declaration of Betrothal.

You will be contacted with further information.

Congratulations on your upcoming marriage.

Snape's letter was identical to Hermione's with the exception of the salutation and the name of his arranged spouse.

Snape swore loudly and inventively after reading his letter.

"The Declaration was not delayed. And if it's 'lost', then it's the bloody Ministry that's gone and lost it!"

"Calm down, Severus," Filius said. "I'll send my statement in. I'm sure this misunderstanding can be resolved quickly."

Filius sat at the desk and picked up his quill. He wrote for several minutes, and then he sent the letter on its way.

The next day, he received a reply. In the politest of terms, the letter from the Special Coordinator stated that since no Declaration of Betrothal had ever been received from Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Severus Snape there was no way to verify that such a Declaration had ever existed, much less that he had witnessed it. The letter further stated that the Ministry did not appreciate his belated attempt to assist Miss Granger and Mr. Snape in circumventing the law simply because they were not pleased with the choices that had been made for them. He was then advised that any continued attempt to undermine the Ministry would result in legal action that included, but was not limited to, fines and/or incarceration in Azkaban.

"I'll go to the Ministry," Filius said. "I'll demand to see Arthur Weasley!"

"No, Filius," Hermione said. "We can't allow you to incur the Ministry's wrath on our behalf."

"Indeed," Snape agreed. "Hermione and I will continue the fight. We – and our fertility – are valuable assets. They'll hardly throw us into Azkaban."

"You're right, of course," Filius said. "I suppose the best thing we can do is continue working to perfect the new charms and potions and hope that the Special Coordinator can convince Sybill and Mundungus to see reason.

Hermione and Snape sent letters to the Ministry every day. Each day they received a letter in return stating that their case was being 'looked into'.

They even tried sending letters directly to Sybill Trelawney and Mundungus Fletcher. Hermione's letters to Mundungus were all returned marked 'undeliverable'. And while Snape's letters to Sybill Trelawney weren't returned, neither were they answered.

Each day when he arrived to work, Filius offered to go to the Ministry to try to reason with Arthur and/or the Special Coordinator. Every day Hermione and Snape refused.

One week before she was scheduled to report to the Ministry of Magic to marry Mundungus Fletcher, Hermione received another letter from the Special Coordinator.

The letter arrived just before five o'clock, ensuring that it would be too late for Hermione to make any kind of a response before the Ministry closed for the day.

The letter read:

Dear Miss Granger,

In an effort to satisfy all parties, while still remaining within the spirit and, more importantly, the letter of the Conjugally Required Accelerated Procreation Statute, I have been in contact with Mr. Mundungus Fletcher, the wizard chosen for you when you failed to file a Declaration of Betrothal by the required date and time. On your behalf, I enquired of Mr. Fletcher if he would be willing to seek another spouse, thus releasing you from your obligation to marry him.

Mr. Fletcher declined, citing a 'deplorable lack of witches able to meet his exacting standards'.

Snape gave a sharp snort as he read over Hermione's shoulder. "Mundungus Fletcher wouldn't know what the word 'deplorable' meant!"

"And 'exacting standards'?" Hermione added. "Any woman with a pulse would meet his exacting standards."

In fact, the Special Coordinator's letter continued, Mr. Fletcher stated that he was quite eager to marry you.

Your request, therefore, to be released from your betrothal to Mr. Mundungus Fletcher is denied.

Your marriage will take place, as scheduled, Tuesday next at two o'clock in the afternoon.

You are reminded that there are severe penalties for failure to comply with the statute. You may, of course, exercise your Right of Exemption at any time before the ceremony begins.

A staff member will meet you at the visitors' entrance to the Ministry to escort you to the Office of the Extraordinary Registrar. Please arrive at least fifteen minutes before the ceremony is scheduled to begin.

Hermione tossed the letter down in disgust.

"That's it, then."

"I suppose my letter is on its way as well," Snape said.

He'd hardly got the words out before his Floo activated, and another official-looking parchment began to hover in the emerald flames.

"If we ignore it, do you think it will go away?" he asked.

A moment later, the parchment sailed out of the Floo and began to circle Snape's head, buzzing like an angry swarm of bees.

"There's your answer," Hermione said.

Snape's letter also stated that the witch chosen for him was looking forward to marrying him and had no wish to dissolve the Declaration of Betrothal.

"They're providing an 'escort'," Hermione said with a frown. "They might as well have said they were putting us under guard to make sure we don't try to skip out."

"I suppose this means it's too late for you to emigrate, isn't it?" Filius asked in a hopeful tone.

Snape nodded. "The Ministry has stopped issuing Portkeys, and most people can't Apparate over long distances, so it's become nearly impossible to leave Great Britain. Lupin heads the Aurors' office now, and he tells me that me that Aurors, on direct orders from the Special Coordinator, are being sent out to round up those who left before the more stringent restrictions were put in place. When they're found, they're being brought back. Their wands are being confiscated until after the marriages take place. If they refuse to go through with the marriage, their magic is bound."

"I never would have believed that Arthur Weasley would support such actions," Filius said. "The Ministry is surely acting out of desperation."

"That may be so, but we've no intention of feeding into that desperation. If Mundungus Fletcher and Sybill Trelawney have such a strong wish to help the wizarding world out of its current crisis, they can marry each other – and Merlin help any children who may issue from that union!"

He turned to Hermione. "Have you packed your bag?"

Hermione patted her pocket. "I've shrunk it down and tucked it away. I'm ready whenever you are."

"What are you two planning?" Filius asked.

"Perhaps it's better if you don't know," Snape said.

"Nonsense! I not only want to know, I want to help you in any way I can."

Snape looked to Hermione who nodded.

"Bigamy is still illegal in the wizarding world, isn't it, Filius?" Snape asked slyly.

Filius looked puzzled for a moment, but then he smiled. "Oh, how perfect! Where will you go? Gretna Green?"

Snape shook his head. "There's a twenty-one day waiting period there. We're going to Cyprus – the documentation needed is minimal, and the residency requirement is just three days for a Special Licence. We were afraid something like this would happen; we began making plans two weeks ago. We'll establish residency beginning tomorrow, file our paperwork on Friday afternoon, and be married on Saturday."

"And you didn't tell me?" Filius squeaked out indignantly. "I thought we were friends!"

"We were hoping that we wouldn't have to resort to this," Hermione said. "We would have preferred having the Ministry simply acknowledge that we had filed a proper Declaration. If it had, we could have married with the Ministry's open, if misguided, blessing."

"There was no logical reason for the Special Coordinator to deny receiving our Declaration," Snape said. His fingers touched his left forearm and then his neck. "I know for a fact that Draco Malfoy's Declaration of Betrothal arrived two days after the required filing date, yet his was approved."

"I found out that Lavender Brown's sister filed late as well," Hermione said. "But other than a mild rebuke, no action was taken against her, and her match was approved. She certainly didn't have a Declaration filed for her within minutes of missing the deadline as we supposedly did."

"You think there's some sort of plot against the two of you personally?" Filius asked.

"I can't come to any other conclusion," Snape replied.

"It would explain why my attempt to verify that you had, indeed, filed a Declaration was rebuffed in such a strong and threatening manner by the Special Coordinator."

Filius paused, his brow furrowed deeply in thought. A moment later, he spoke again. "Who is the Special Coordinator, by the way? I've just realised that there's no name or signature on any of the letters or forms we've received."

"I noticed that the first day," Snape said. "I asked Lupin, but even he didn't know. This in spite of the fact that it's on the Special Coordinator's orders that some witches and wizards have had their wands confiscated and their magic bound.

"He's tried to talk to Arthur, but he can't get through to him. Every time he questions something, he's referred back to the Special Coordinator. All requests for face to face meetings with the Special Coordinator have been denied. No one even knows if the person is a man or a woman. Who ever it is has been given a tremendous amount of power and has no accountability to anyone, apparently not even to the Minister for Magic himself."

"If only we'd been able to convince the Ministry that all we needed was a little more time to perfect the charms and potions we've been working on. We've made so much progress in the last few weeks. I'm sure the solution is close," Filius said.

"None of our communiqués regarding our research has even been acknowledged. The Ministry seems unwilling to even consider any option other than this insane new law," Snape said. "And while Hermione and I were prepared to comply with the requirement and marry, neither of us is willing to sacrifice ourselves to the likes of Mundungus Fletcher and Sybill Trelawney."

"It's a desperate scheme," Filius said. "If you're discovered missing over the next few days, the Ministry may send Aurors to track you down."

"Lupin has agreed to 'lose' any such requests that cross his desk," Snape said.

Filius laughed. "Ah ... how ironic it would be if the Ministry were to lose another important document!"

"If you're willing to help, Filius ..." Snape began.

"Of course I am!" Filius interrupted him. "What can I do?"

"Just keep up the pretence that the three of us are hard at work here, as usual. Answer anything urgent that is addressed to either of us, etcetera."

"Oh, I can do that!"

"Filius, do you think you could pop over to my flat and see to Crookshanks once or twice a day?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, of course. Or I could bring him here ..."

Hermione shook her head. "I'll get him settled here after we return from Cyprus. He doesn't like change much. He's older now and set in his ways."

"That sounds familiar," Filius said with a pointed look at Snape.

Snape scowled. "I'm in my prime, you old hobgoblin."

Filius laughed. "I notice you didn't deny being set in your ways."

"Why would I?" he said, and Filius laughed again.

"I've a way with animals, Hermione," Filius said as he turned back to Hermione. "I'll get him settled in for you."

"Thank you, Filius," Hermione said. "That'll be one less thing I have to deal with."

"How are you travelling?" Filius asked. "Did Remus get you a Portkey somehow?"

"We're flying," Snape said.

"It's well over three thousand kilometres from London to Cyprus! You can't fly a broom that far!"

"We're not flying brooms, you bloody dolt," Snape said. "We're taking an aeroplane. Even someone who's led the sheltered, wizarding life you have must know what an aeroplane is."

"Those Muggle contraptions with wings and an engine? They're heavier than air! I don't know how they can possibly stay up! Couldn't you take the train instead?"

"I've yet to hear of a train, Muggle or wizard, which could travel over the ocean. Cyprus is an island. Besides, Muggles have their own kind of magic, Filius. It's called aerodynamics. It has to do with energy and lift ... never mind, you wouldn't understand."

Filius shook his head. "You're right – I don't understand why you'd want to do something so dangerous." He shuddered as he spoke.

"It's no more dangerous than Apparating or flying a broom or taking a Portkey," Hermione said. "Probably less so as I've never heard of anyone on a Muggle aeroplane being splinched."

"If you say so," Filius replied, but he still looked sceptical.

"We have to leave now," Snape said as he glanced at his watch. "Our flight to Paphos leaves in two hours."

"You have the tickets, right?" Hermione asked.

"Of course I have the tickets," Snape said.

"And all the proper documentation?"

"Yes."

"And ..."

"I have it all," Snape said, cutting her off.

"Well, there's no need to get shirty," she said in an offended tone.

"I'm always shirty," Snape said. "You're just being over-sensitive."

Hermione considered that for a moment. "Maybe I have pre-wedding jitters," she said at last, not wanting to get into a row with him just minutes before they'd have to spend hours sitting next to each other on an aeroplane.

"If we don't get to Heathrow, there won't be a wedding to have jitters over," he said as he held out his hand.

"Let's go then." She tucked her hand into his.

"We'll see you on Monday, Filius," Snape said. "Thank you."

A moment later, they were gone.

---

Author's Note: This story was written for the Potter Place's Variety Challenge. This is the prompt I chose: Something Old – Revisit a once popular challenge. I chose to revisit the Marriage Law Challenge, but I've placed the story in a post-DH timeline.