Six

Chapter Six

Hermione watched as Severus walked away from the table where the remnants of their breakfast sat. She saw him turn toward the harbour district. He'd said he was going to hire a taxi, probably for the entire day. He'd offered to hire one for her as well, but the shopping district was just a short walk from the hotel, and a taxi wasn't really necessary. They could have walked to the Municipal Marriage Office for the ceremony, just as they had to obtain their Special Licence, but she was glad she wouldn't have to. She had been surprised and rather touched by his solution, which would allow her to have her small Muggle superstition.

Hermione smiled as she thought of the dress she'd bought. It was the prettiest dress she'd ever owned. She only wished her mum could have been here to see her in it. She'd thought about having her parents meet them here, but she knew they'd never understand what she was doing. Since it was unlikely that she and Severus would remain married for very long, it was probably better that her parents didn't know.

If she ever had a real wedding, she'd make sure her mum helped her pick out a dress, and that her dad walked her down the aisle.

She shook her head a bit sadly. She was nearly thirty years old, and she hadn't had a date in more than three years. Even after she and Severus were divorced, it was highly unlikely that she'd marry again. Although this might not be the wedding of her dreams, it was probably the only one she'd ever have. Actually, she wasn't sure she'd ever imagined what her 'dream wedding' would be like. She shook her head again, and then she smiled. Well, in that case, what was to say that this wedding, the wedding that would take place in less than nine hours, couldn't be her 'dream wedding?'

"Lots to do, Hermione," she muttered to herself and set off toward the shopping district.

Hermione made quick work of buying a small gift for Filius. She also purchased several of the beautiful earthenware urns she'd told Severus about and made arrangements for them to be shipped to London. She forewent the other shops, however, and headed instead to a day spa housed in one of the fancier hotels near the beach.

Luckily, it wasn't prime tourist time on Cyprus. The spa wasn't busy, and the clerk was able to book services for her as a walk-in client.

She not only had a manicure and a pedicure, but also allowed the beauty technician to talk her into a facial and a full-body seaweed wrap after she was assured that her skin would 'glow with vibrant health' once the wrap came off. She reasoned that a woman could always use a healthy, vibrant glow – especially on her wedding night.

She sipped mineral water and nibbled at the small finger sandwiches that were served in the early afternoon. She had her legs and her eyebrows waxed, but declined the offer of a bikini wax. It would have taken a well-cast Imperius to persuade her to go along with that suggestion.

She was then ensconced in an environmental chamber called The Rain Forest Retreat. She listened to water dripping, thunder rolling in the distance, and the muted trills of birdsong while a soft, warm 'breeze' swirled scented mists around her. She recognised jasmine, plumeria, and lilac in the floral notes and sandalwood, cedar, and pine in the woodsy tones. After a few minutes she gave in to the soporific effects of the warmth, the sounds, and the scents and fell into a drowsy state of half-sleep.

Hermione was awakened by a gentle tap on her shoulder. She blinked and sat up, slightly disoriented as she tried to remember where she was and why she was sitting in the middle of the jungle wearing nothing but a towel.

"The Retreat is very relaxing, yes?" the technician said.

"What? Oh, yes, yes," Hermione said as memory flooded back. The spa, the beauty treatments, the wedding – the wedding!

"Bloody hell!" Hermione exclaimed as she jumped off the padded table she'd been resting on.

"Is there a problem, miss?" the technician asked anxiously. She was twisting her hands together nervously.

Hermione grabbed the technician's arm. "What time is it?" she demanded.

It had been just past one when she'd entered the room, and she had no idea how long she'd slept.

"It's two o'clock, miss," the technician said.

"Oh, thank goodness! I have to leave. I'm getting married in five hours and I've got to do something with my hair." She lifted a hand to her head. The humidity in the room had caused her hair to curl and frizz. She hoped she had enough Sleekeazy's Hair Potion with her to straighten it out.

"We have a hairdresser on staff, miss. I'm sure she'll be happy to style your hair for you."

Hermione's first inclination was to refuse. Her hair was a disaster; it always had been, but she was used to dealing with it. She really did know a number of hairdressing charms.

"Really, miss, she's very good. And we have a make-up specialist available as well. In less than three hours they can have you ready. All you'll have to do is put on your wedding gown."

"It's not a gown, really," Hermione said.

"It's lovely, I'm sure," the woman said. "And you shouldn't have to fuss with your hair yourself today of all days. It would be the completion of your perfect day of beauty."

Hermione considered that, and then she nodded.

"You're right. Let's go all the way!"

"Very good, miss. Follow me. I'll get you settled in the hairdressing suite, and then I'll send Adriana in immediately to get started."

"Your hair is very thick," Adriana said ten minutes later as she pulled a wide-toothed comb through Hermione's freshly-washed hair.

"Thick and bushy and frizzy."

"Thick and healthy and beautiful. Many women would wish to have hair this lovely."

"Not me. I've been fighting it my whole life."

"If you will pardon my saying so, miss, but that is where you make your mistake," Adriana said gently. "You must work with your hair, not fight against it."

"How?" Hermione asked. She was intrigued by the idea that someone thought her hair was beautiful.

"I'll show you how to do an everyday style, but then I will do something more dramatic for your wedding," Adriana said.

Two-and-a-half hours later, Hermione was staring into the mirror, looking at a stranger. Adriana had pulled her hair back off her face, fastening it in a braided coronet atop her head. After asking Hermione what colour her dress was, she had threaded blue and green ribbons through it. The ribbon ends were curled and framed her face along with several corkscrew coils of hair. It was elegant and completely different from anything she'd ever done with her hair before.

"It's beautiful, Adriana," Hermione said. "Thank you."

"You are very lovely, miss. Your groom will think you a vision. You will remember how to do the other style I showed you?"

"Yes, thank you. I can't believe I never thought to try it that way."

"That doesn't matter. You will do it now, yes?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said with a smile. She already had the necessary charms half formulated in her head.

"I will send Trina in to do your make-up now," Adriana said. "It has been my pleasure to make you beautiful. I wish you much happiness in your marriage."

"Thank you," Hermione replied.

The make-up actually took very little time. Trina gushed about Hermione's smooth, flawless skin and her well-shaped eyes and lips. It really had been a matter of a brush of colour across her cheek bones, a touch of sheer gloss on her lips, and a sweep of mascara on her naturally long lashes. Since she seldom bothered with make-up at all, Hermione had been glad not to have to deal with too much gunk on her face.

"You need only to enhance," Trina had insisted. "Too many women cover up their natural beauty with cosmetics."

With a final warning to use a nightly moisturiser, to stay out of the sun, and to never, ever smoke, Trina had left Hermione at the counter to settle her account.

Hermione cheerfully handed over what seemed like half her life savings and left the spa, a bag of samples, and an order form for more, clutched in her hand.

Hermione had only been in her room a few minutes when there was a knock at her door. She looked through the peephole and only opened the door after she recognised the desk clerk.

"Yes?"

"I have a message for you, Miss Granger," the man said as he held out an envelope.

"Thank you, Christos," she said, reading his name from the pin on his lapel.

She reached for her handbag, but before she could open it, Christos was waving her off.

"No, no, miss. My cousin, he is driving for Mr. Snape. He asked me to bring you this. It is my pleasure."

"Thank you again, then," she said with a smile.

He bowed slightly, and then he turned and strode back toward the lifts.

Hermione closed and locked the door before she looked at the envelope in her hand. She recognised Severus's spidery script, and for one heart-stopping moment she wondered if he was cancelling the wedding.

She immediately shook off that foolish thought. Severus was a man of honour. Even if he changed his mind, he would tell her to her face. He would never resort to the cliché of a 'Dear Jane' letter.

Perhaps it was a billet doux. And then she laughed out loud. That she would be receiving a love letter from Severus Snape was an even more foolish thought.

She tore the envelope open and pulled out the single sheet of paper.

Hermione,

Severus

Not a 'Dear Jane' letter, but certainly not a love letter, either.

Hermione read the note again. Severus was, apparently, at least a bit concerned that the Ministry might question the legality of their marriage. Under certain circumstances, the Wizengamot had the authority to annul a civil marriage. A marriage that was magically witnessed, while lacking the irrevocability of a formal binding, was more difficult to end. The only way it could be dissolved was if both parties agreed. His cousin Martin, who was obviously a wizard, would witness the marriage and their magical signatures, thus assuring the validity of their union. Severus wanted her to have her wand with her so that they could 'sign' a magical copy of their Certificate of Marriage. By reading between the lines, she understood that he was giving her a choice. The civil marriage would take place whether they signed the magical certificate or not, and he would fight the Ministry and/or the Wizengamot should they decide to challenge it. But he was also telling her that he was willing to enter into a marriage that would be more difficult for him to get out of since its dissolution would require her consent.

Hermione trusted Severus and his judgement. If he felt a wizarding marriage was needed, she wouldn't disagree with him.

She touched the gold bracelet on her wrist. She never went anywhere without her wand, even if it didn't much look like a wand at the moment. When the time came, she would be prepared to sign the magical document.

Hermione leaned into the mirror over the bathroom sink to check her hair and make-up one last time before she went downstairs to wait for the taxi that would take her to her wedding. While she'd never thought of herself as beautiful, or even pretty, she had to say that Adriana and Trina had done a remarkable job. She looked interesting, even a bit dramatic. With one last look and a wink at her reflection, Hermione decided that both her day, and her money, had been well-spent.

She walked back out into the room, her eyes sweeping it one last time to make sure she'd packed everything. She closed her suitcase and picked up her small, beaded bag. She was just reaching for the door knob when there was a knock.

She opened the door and smiled at the man standing there.

"Have you come for my luggage? It's all set."

The man smiled. "I've actually come for you, miss," he said. "I'm Stefanos. Your husband – your almost-husband, that is – sent me to bring you to the Marriage Office."

"What perfect timing; I was just about to go downstairs."

A few minutes later, Hermione was settling herself in the back seat of the taxi. Stefanos closed the door and scurried around the vehicle to climb behind the wheel. He started the car, but before he shifted into gear to pull away from the kerb, he turned in his seat to speak to Hermione.

"Mr. Severus asked me to give this to you," he said as he held out a small white box. "He said you should read the note first."

"Thank you," Hermione said with a smile as she took the box and the envelope. She opened the flap of the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper.

This note was very different from the one she'd received earlier.

Dear Hermione,

Severus

Hermione carefully folded the note and put it into her bag. Then she opened the florist's box.

"Oh, my," she said with a sigh. She lifted the small bouquet from its nest of tissue and held it up. White roses, stephanotis, and lily of the valley surrounded a small, fragile-looking orchid. She held the bouquet to her face and sniffed at the roses. Their scent was much lighter and more delicate than that of the stephanotis and lily of the valley. The orchid had no scent, but it was beautiful.

"We are here, miss," Stefanos said from the front seat as he pulled over in front of the Municipal Marriage Office. "Are you ready to go inside?"

Hermione smiled. "Oh, yes, I'm ready." And she knew she really was ready to begin this new and very important phase of her life.

As she stepped out of the taxi, an older gentleman approached her.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes, and you must be Mr. Gladstone," Hermione said as she held out her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you."

Martin smiled and then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly. "It's my distinct pleasure to meet you. And if you don't mind, we'll dispense with the formalities. After all, we're about to be related, however distantly. You shall call me Martin and I'll call you Hermione."

"Of course, Martin."

"I must say, Hermione," Martin said as he held her arm to guide her up the steps, "your photos don't do you justice. You're ... exquisite. If I were forty years younger, I might try to lure you away from Severus, the lucky bastard. But since I'm not forty years younger, I guess I'd better take you inside."

Hermione smiled. It was impossible not to be charmed by the man.

They entered the building, and Martin led her down a short hallway.

"Severus and the Marriage Officer are inside," Martin said. "My cousin has given me the honour of allowing me to witness your marriage, if that's acceptable to you."

"I'm grateful that you've agreed to ... assist us."

"Oh, well-mannered and perceptive as well as beautiful," Martin said with another charming smile. "Would you do me the further honour of allowing me to escort you in to meet your groom? Severus explained that your parents weren't able to attend the ceremony."

Hermione felt the absurd prick of tears behind her eyelids. She blinked them resolutely away before they could fall. "I'm the one honoured," she said a moment later.

Martin took her hand and tucked it under his elbow. He opened the door, and they walked through it together.

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.