Four

Chapter Four

Snape and Hermione arrived in Paphos, Cyprus at three o'clock in the morning on Wednesday. They took a taxi to the hotel – a small, no-frills establishment – and checked into their rooms, thus beginning their three day residency requirement.

They spent Wednesday and Thursday seeing the sights of Paphos and the surrounding coastal areas. It was during this two day period of isolation and forced togetherness that Hermione discovered that when he was removed from the everyday stress of the wizarding world, Severus Snape was a different person. He was polite, personable, and attentive. They took a tour on a glass-bottom boat. They visited a local winery. They even went to the beach. Although neither of them had brought swim wear, they took off their shoes and stockings and walked along the pristine sand, allowing the crystal blue-green water to swirl over their feet. Hermione laughed when Snape scuttled away from a larger wave that threatened to dampen the cuff of his trousers. After a time, they sat side-by-side on a dune, allowing the warm, gentle breeze to dry their feet. They chatted together easily about the sights, the sounds, and the people of Cyprus. By silent, mutual agreement, they didn't speak of the crisis back in the wizarding world.

For the first time in all the years Hermione had known him, first as her teacher and then as a colleague, Snape seemed relaxed, almost content. She noticed that his perpetual scowl was mostly absent, and he smiled more readily. Even his nervous gesture of touching or rubbing his forearm and neck, which had developed after his encounter with Nagini, had diminished. (Although Hermione was sure Severus would have denied he possessed a nervous gesture, which he would have perceived as a sign of weakness.)

On one outing, Snape took Hermione's hand to guide her over a rough patch of cobbled stone, but when they were once again on smooth pavement, he didn't release her hand. Instead, he curled his fingers around hers and squeezed her hand softly. Hermione smiled up at him and returned the gentle pressure.

Anyone looking at them as they walked the ancient streets might have mistaken them for a couple on their honeymoon.

They ate dinner each evening at a nearby open-air café and then walked back to the hotel hand-in-hand.

And each evening before he walked away and left her standing outside the door to her room, he would lean down and kiss her.

The first kiss was halting, as though he expected her to slap his face or at least push him away. Instead, she reached up and held his head in place as she opened her lips slightly, inviting him to explore her mouth further.

Their kisses, after that first one, left them both a bit breathless and edgy.

On Friday afternoon, they filed their paperwork at the Municipal Marriage Office, received their Special Licence, and finalised the arrangements for the civil ceremony, which would take place on Saturday evening.

They were passing through the shopping district on their way back to the hotel when Hermione pulled up suddenly.

"What is it, Hermione?" Snape asked.

"Would you mind if I ducked into this shop for a bit?" she asked.

Snape looked at the fripperies displayed in the window and frowned. "I'm not going in there," he said.

"I didn't ask you to go in. In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't."

"What could you possibly want in there?"

Hermione coloured slightly. "Look, I know we'll probably be divorced before we make it to our first anniversary, but a woman only gets married for the first time once."

"And?"

"And I want a new dress, all right? Now, go away and let me shop for it!"

Snape was taken aback for a moment, but he recovered quickly. She was right; they probably would be divorced within a year – or as soon as they perfected the charms and potions that would make their marriage unnecessary. But she was also right that a first marriage only happened once.

"Is two hours enough time?" he asked.

"An hour is enough time," Hermione said. "I'm not much of a shopper. And I don't want to make you wait for me."

"I'll return in two hours. We'll have dinner before we go back to the hotel."

"Okay," she said. She turned to open the door of the shop.

"Hermione," Snape said her name softly, and she turned back to him.

"Yes?"

"No bloody pink!"

Hermione laughed. "No pink, I promise."

She reached a hand out and stroked his cheek gently.

"Thank you, Severus."

He nodded a bit stiffly and then turned and left her staring after his retreating back.

It took Hermione nearly the entire two hours to find a dress. She tried on and rejected one after another. One was too short, another too frilly. The colour on one was too pale, the print on another too bold. She nearly gave up, thinking that she would simply transfigure the dress she'd brought with her. And then she spotted it. As soon as the filmy, gauzy dress with its swirls of the jewel-like blues and greens of the Mediterranean floated down over her body, she knew she'd found it.

The shop attendant carefully packed the dress in layers of tissue paper.

Impulsively, Hermione tossed a wispy pair of silk knickers, a bra, and a camisole, all in the same jewel tones as the dress, onto the counter.

"Excellent choices, miss. Your husband is a very lucky man."

"Oh, I'm not married," Hermione said hastily.

"You soon will be though, won't you?" the woman asked with a twinkle in her dark eyes.

"Does it show?"

The woman smiled knowingly. "I can always tell when a woman dresses for her man. But I learn more when I see what a woman chooses to wear when she undresses for her man."

"I just don't want my underwear to show through the dress – it is rather transparent."

"Of course, miss," the woman replied. But she was still smiling as she totalled up Hermione's purchases.

Hermione paid and gathered her parcels.

"Thank you, miss," the shop attendant said. And then she added a phrase in Greek.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said as she shook her head. "I don't understand."

The woman smiled again. "It is a blessing of sorts – for your marriage. It means I wish you a long marriage filled with love, happiness, and passion," the woman said in English.

Hermione's eyes clouded for a moment as she realised how ineffably sad it made her to know that her marriage would have none of those elements. And then she shook her head slightly. If they were able to perfect their charms and potions, her marriage to Severus would be over almost before it began. But while they might not have love, happiness, or passion, she knew that no matter how short her marriage, there would be respect and contentment. And if the kisses they'd shared so far were any indication, there would be a good, healthy dose of lust, as well. It was less than she would have expected if her marriage was taking place for all the right reasons, but it was much, much more than she'd ever have shared with Mundungus Fletcher.

She smiled at the woman. "Thank you ... I wish it, too."

Hermione stepped out of the shop and saw Snape striding toward her.

"I see you've accomplished your mission," he said as he reached to take the parcel from her hand.

"I've got it," she said. She twitched the bundle out of his reach. "It's supposed to be bad luck for the groom to see the bride's dress before the wedding."

Snape arched a brow at her. "I'm merely being polite. I'm hardly going to tear open the package to ogle your frock."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," she replied smoothly. "But I'll carry it anyway."

"It isn't pink, is it?" he growled.

Hermione couldn't resist. "As pink as bubble gum and candy floss," she said with well-hidden amusement and watched as he visibly paled.

"You didn't ..."

"No, I didn't," she said as the smile she'd been hiding finally broke across her face. "But that's all I'm going to tell you about it." She reached out and grasped his hand. "Come on, I'm famished. Let's go have our last supper as singles."

"'Last Supper' has a rather ominous connotation, doesn't it?" Snape remarked as he allowed her to lead him away from the shop and towards the café.

Hermione sighed over-dramatically. "Oh, yes ... marriage will be a heavy cross to bear."

Snape wasn't sure why he continued the ridiculous exchange, but he did. "Well, we could always wash our hands of the entire situation," he said and waited for Hermione's riposte.

"We could, I suppose," she said with her face composed into a look of studied innocence, "but then you'd lose your opportunity to nail me."

Snape was still laughing when they arrived at the café.

After their dinner, they walked back to the hotel. As he'd done on the previous two nights of their stay, Snape kissed her outside her door.

"Make sure your bag is packed before we leave for the Marriage Office tomorrow," Snape said as he lifted his lips from hers one last time.

"Tomorrow? I thought our flight back to London wasn't until Sunday afternoon."

"It's not, but I've arranged another hotel for tomorrow night."

"Oh, I just thought we'd stay here." She waved her hand toward her closed door.

Snape just stared at her pointedly.

"Or in your room, if you'd rather," she added.

"Unless your room is markedly larger than mine, I doubt that two people of normal proportions can move around comfortably in it. As for the bed ... you do realise that we'll be sharing a bed don't you?"

"Well, of course I do."

"It's a very small bed, Hermione. I thought you'd appreciate some place with a bit more ... space."

"Yes, well, it's just for one night ..." Her voice trailed off.

"A very important night," he said quietly.

"It's very kind of you," she said. "Thank you."

Snape cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with being thought of as kind.

"It's nothing, really. I don't relish being squashed into a room barely bigger than a water closet."

"Of course," she said with a smile. "I'll see you at breakfast, then."

"I thought there was some sort of taboo about seeing the bride before the wedding."

"That's just a silly Muggle superstition. Besides, we can hardly sit in our rooms avoiding each other for the entire day, can we?"

"No, I suppose not," Snape said.

"Goodnight, Severus," she said. She turned and slid her key into the lock.

The door opened, but before she could step inside, Snape touched her shoulder and turned her back toward him.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. He wrapped his arms around her and moulded her body against his.

When he broke the kiss, he put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up.

"I'll think of a solution for tomorrow," he said.

"What?" Her head was still a bit muzzy.

"So you can keep the dress a secret."

"It doesn't matter," she said as she swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat.

He tilted his head and looked at her shrewdly. "It matters."

She nodded, not sure she could trust her voice again.

"Goodnight, Hermione." He pushed her gently through the open door of her room and closed the door behind her.

"Do you have anything special you need to do today?" Snape asked as he pushed the remnants of his breakfast away.

"I thought I'd get married. Most people think that's rather special," she replied dryly.

"That's this evening. I meant this morning and this afternoon. Don't women have their hair done or get manicures for events such as will occur this evening?"

Hermione smiled. "Sometimes. But I believe we established that I do my own hair, and I've never had a manicure in my life."

"How much time will you need to get ready, then?"

"Not very long. What do you have planned for the day?"

"The ceremony is scheduled for seven o'clock. I thought I'd take a taxi to the Marriage Office around six. Once I arrive, I'll send the taxi back to fetch you. Your dress will thus be safe from my prying eyes before the wedding."

"It's barely ten o'clock," Hermione said. "What will we do until it's time to get ready?"

"I was actually hoping you would have some primping to do," Snape said. "I have an old friend, a very distant cousin, actually, who lives near Coral Bay. We're to meet early this afternoon. He's going to take me to a potions supplier in Peyia who claims to have some rare ingredients I've been looking for. We'll probably have lunch there."

"In that case, I suppose I could force myself to sit through a manicure. I'd also like to get Filius a little thank you gift for taking care of Crookshanks. And there are some interesting shops I didn't get to explore. I saw some lovely earthenware jars that could be used to store some of your ingredients. And ..."

"Enough," Snape said as he held up his hand to halt her chatter. "I can see you'll have no problem filling your day."

"No, I guess not," Hermione agreed.

He stood and tossed some money on the table to pay for their breakfast. "I'll be on my way, then. I'll see you at the Marriage Office around six forty-five."

"Do I have to check out of the hotel when I leave?"

"I'll see to everything, including getting your luggage to our new hotel before we arrive there after dinner tonight."

"Thanks," she said as she got to her feet and picked up her handbag. She looked up at him.

Snape resisted the urge to kiss her, thinking that perhaps there was some further superstition regarding contact between them at this point. He reasoned that their marriage was getting off to a shaky enough start without inviting the Fates to conspire against them.

Hermione's eyes remained locked on his as she fiddled with the clasp of her handbag, opening it and snapping it shut again.

"Well, then, I hope you enjoy your day, Severus," she finally said, breaking eye contact.

Before he could think about it any further, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

"And you, yours," he said as he straightened.

And then he strode away.

Although he hadn't lied to her – he really was meeting his friend in Coral Bay – he hadn't told her everything about his plans.

He made his way to the taxi stand in the harbour district and arranged to hire a car and driver for the day. The driver, who introduced himself as Stefanos, was happy to have a guaranteed fare for the entire day and pointed out the sights as he drove, speaking in accented, but easily understood English.

Snape's first stop was the hotel where they were currently staying. He settled the charges for both rooms and arranged to have their luggage delivered to their new hotel while they were having dinner. His next stop was the new hotel. He checked them in, his hand actually shaking a bit as he filled in the registration form as Mr. and Mrs. Severus Snape. He advised the clerk that their bags would be delivered in the early evening, and that he and his wife would be arriving after dinner. The clerk asked few questions as he listened to Snape.

He then had the driver take him to Coral Bay. He could have Apparated there much quicker, but he'd need the taxi for later anyway.

Snape made several stops in Coral Bay, relying on Stefanos to guide him to the places he needed to go.

"This is the best place for what you want," Stefanos said as he pulled over to the kerb. "My cousin owns the place. I'll talk to him for you, get you the best deal."

"Thank you, Stefanos," Snape replied earnestly. "I'm afraid I've no experience in this area, and I appreciate your input."

It only took a few minutes to decide what he wanted.

"I need two hours, sir," Spiro said as Snape handed over payment.

"I'll be busy for at least that long," Snape said. "What time do you close?"

"Oh, I live upstairs. If you come after six o'clock, just ring the bell," Spiro said.

"I'll be here long before that."

"Unless you forget," Spiro said with a chuckle.

"Yes, unless I forget." Snape agreed with a smile.

"I think you will not forget, sir," Stefanos said cheerfully as they left the shop.

"I doubt I will, but if I do, I'll count on you to remind me."

"Of course, sir."

Snape left the store satisfied that Stefanos and his cousin Spiro hadn't taken advantage of his ignorance.

It was just past noon when the taxi pulled up in front of a modest home a few blocks from the beach.

"Go have some lunch," Snape said as he stepped out of the taxi. He handed a few notes through the window, but Stefanos waved them off.

"You pay me good already, sir. No need to buy me food. When should I come back to get you?"

"My friend and I are going to Peyia, but he has a car. We'll probably have lunch there. Can you be back here in three hours?"

"Three hours – yes, sir."

Snape watched the taxi drive off, and then he walked up the stepping stones that led from the road to the white-painted front door.

"Severus! How are you, you mangy dog?" The slap on the back nearly knocked Snape to his knees, but he hung on to his dignity and refused to buckle.

"Martin, good to see you," Snape said. He could feel the bones in his hand beginning to grind together under the pressure of his old friend's handshake. Seeing such spryness and energy in a man nearly a hundred years old gave Snape great hope about enjoying a robust old age himself.

"What brings you to Cyprus?" Martin asked.

"It's a long story," Snape replied.

"We'll talk while we drive to Peyia."

A few minutes later they were in Martin's tiny car heading away from Coral Bay toward Peyia.

"Now, what's going on?"

"I'm sure you've heard about the problem with the declining birth rate in wizarding Britain," Snape said.

"Yes, I have, and I've also heard about the drastic measure the Wizengamot took in an attempt to solve it," Martin said as he manoeuvred, in a seemingly suicidal manner, around a slower moving vehicle. "Are you planning to settle here then, rather than marry?"

Snape checked that his seat belt was securely fastened before he replied. "No, actually, I am getting married – this evening, as a matter of fact."

"Why here? Why didn't you just get married in England?"

"Because I'm not marrying the witch the Ministry chose for me."

"I see. Do you need a witness?"

"We're having a civil ceremony at the Municipal Marriage Office in Paphos."

"Will the Wizengamot recognise it?"

"They always have in the past," Snape said. His fingers made their habitual journey from forearm to neck.

"Times are different now, cousin," Martin said. "If you have a magical witness, especially a relative, no matter how distant, there can be no doubt about the legal status of the marriage."

Snape was thoughtful. "You might have to return to England if ..."

"I'm an expatriate by choice, not by necessity. I'm not dodging taxes or trying to escape prosecution for a crime. I'd travel back to London if need be."

"I appreciate that, Martin, and I'm sure Hermione will, as well."

"Hermione? Hermione Granger?"

"You know her?" Snape asked with a note of surprise.

"Not personally, but even here, in this backwater of the wizarding world, we've heard of her. Her papers about the effects of the toxic magic left behind after the Dark Lord's defeat are well-known. Not to mention she's a bloody war hero! How did you manage to convince her to marry an old curmudgeon like you?"

"I'm a bloody war hero, you arse, or have you forgotten?" Snape said sourly. "And I hardly think you're in a position to call me old."

"What I lack in youth, I make up for in charm and personality," Martin said. "Ask any of my lady birds. And you haven't told me how you convinced her to marry you. You didn't slip her a love potion, did you?"

Snape's brows drew together, but before he could speak, Martin started to laugh.

"Now who's an arse? See? Charm, personality, and a well-developed sense of humour – all qualities you seemingly lack."

Snape snorted softly.

"Well?" Martin persisted.

"We've been working together for several years, you know. We're not strangers."

"And the spouses chosen for you by the Ministry were?"

"Not strangers, no, but they were totally unacceptable to both of us. And we had actually filed a Declaration of Betrothal. The Ministry claims it was 'lost' and refused to accept a new one."

"So you're thumbing your noses at the Ministry and the Wizengamot? Very brave."

"In a few weeks, a few months at most, we'll have found a solution to the falling birth rate, and the new law will no longer be necessary. Hermione and I will divorce and be able to go on with our lives without further complications."

"You haven't even married yet, and you're already talking about divorce?"

"It's a marriage of convenience, Martin. Or as another colleague put it, a case of better the devil you know. Neither of us has any lofty expectations."

Snape turned his head to stare out the side window of the car, his fingers absently rubbing at his neck.

Martin considered Severus's words as he drove. Every so often, he glanced out of the corner of his eye to observe his old friend. Severus had casually dismissed any emotional motivation for his up-coming marriage, but his body language told another story. Martin was looking forward to meeting Hermione Granger and discovering exactly what her own expectations were regarding her 'convenient' marriage.

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.