1: If You're Happy and You Know It, You Obviously Aren't Planning a Wedding

Disclaimer: If they were mine, they'd have a hell of a lot more fun in canon. Or not.

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Continuing thanks to Tempest of Dreams for her excellent suggestions and corrections. Sometimes I'm even clever enough to follow them.

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Six and a half months ago...

The Saturday afternoon air in late spring had a cool, languid feel as it caressed Severus' naked back, feathering lightly over a few faint, slightly ridged scars on his shoulder blades to stroke the dip along his spine. As if luxuriating in bed at two o'clock in the afternoon were not sufficiently hedonistic, a set of warmer, more substantial fingers joined the slight breeze in fondling his undraped skin. He sighed. There was nothing like a little threesome as a reward for renovating the house all morning...just the breeze, Hermione, and himself.

Even with magic, fixing up the architectural disaster that was the house on Spinner's End was a tedious, strenuous task. Still, he was willing to accept it as the price of moving in together (a process which was almost complete now). It meant that Hermione would have to Apparate long distance to work and Snape would be stuck in the house that held so many charming memories of his uninspiring childhood, but they simply couldn't afford a flat in the London area that would accommodate all their books and his lab, even with the availability of magical additions. Not that his house was in any sense spacious, but at least it was possible to affix additional bookcases to the walls of the staircase. His gaze fell on the two simple little black leather boxes on the dresser that held their wedding rings, a pleasant reminder that soon it would all be official. It was almost as if the boxes radiated the magic-rich serenity of cold stones and warm metals that permeated the humble premises of Moore and Mraz, Magical Jewelers.

Suddenly, Hermione squawked and pulled away from him. So much for the relaxed mood.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked, the pillow swallowing most of the question as he turned one half-opened black eye towards her. He couldn't bring himself to become too alarmed. There was nothing more threatening in his house than the odd spider, and none of those were venomous.

"My stomach!" Her voice was the epitome of dismay as she gazed down woefully at the soft little curve above the juncture of her thighs. "It's back!"

He schooled his expression to mild interest to cover an internal sigh. Over the past few months he noted approvingly that Hermione was back in what he considered her ideal shape...namely soft and snuggly. In the course of their usual dimly lit romantic encounters and her hurried bathing before and after shifts at the hospital, she had failed to notice the return of the cute little poochiness of her tummy. This was not an unwelcome side effect (in his estimation) of restoring the rest of her lovely curves, but he had always known he would eventually have to deal with her reaction to the plan.

"So it is," Severus said. It rather hurt that she seemed not to notice he'd adopted his silkiest purr for her. He pulled himself up to his hands and knees and began stalking across the bed to her. "As are your squeezably soft breasts... your lusciously shapely hips... and let's see..." He suddenly pounced, pulling her to him and across his lap so he could inspect her backside, causing her to shriek in protest. "Ahh, yes... that delectable little peach of a bum, as round and tempting as ever," he said approvingly, caressing said anatomical feature with undisguised appreciation. He was definitely purring now. Were he a cat, his claws would be flexing in and out.

She sat up and glared at him. "You've been fattening me up!" she said, angrily jabbing the slight curve of her tummy as if to punish it.

There was no use denying it, so he simply ignored the accusation and continued to study her nude body admiringly. "And as perfect as your ribs are, I much prefer them neatly tucked away behind a proper degree of padding. Yes, I would say that I have my Hermione back." He reached for her, but she pulled away, sulking.

"I wanted to buy a new wardrobe when we were done fixing up the house. And what about my wedding dress? I had my heart set on fitting into a size ten!"

Severus was losing patience fast. "Are you listening to yourself? Would you really spoil our honeymoon just to wear a smaller dress?" he asked. As if a dress of any note were really necessary, considering we're just nipping down to the Registrar's Office in a month to get it all squared away. The paperwork will likely take longer than the ceremony.

"What do you mean, 'spoil our honeymoon'?" She was absolutely flummoxed.

There was nothing for it. He was going to have to explain to her about his mother. "I can't stand to see outlines of your bones, Hermione. My Mother was always thin and miserable. This house is not going to belong to another sad, thin woman. Do you know how depressed I felt every time your hipbones poked me during the last few months?"

"No, because you never bothered to tell me," she answered in sheer exasperation. "I am not proficient in Legilimency! You have to TELL me things if you want me to know them!"

Now he was exasperated. "I did tell you, the night I proposed. And as usual, you simply argued with me. So I took matters into my own hands and made certain you started eating properly. And now, if you'll stop berating me, I would like to enjoy the fruits of my labors," he finished, dropping his voice down to a suggestive whisper and pulling her close.

She yielded to his embrace grudgingly. "So, my appearance matters so much to you that it would ruin our honeymoon if it's not to your liking?" she asked, pinning him with a sharp look.

Snape was beginning to strongly suspect there was no winning for him in this situation. "If you're trying to imply that I wouldn't love you skinny, you've gone 'round the bend. However, if you are positing that my enjoyment of our sexual liaisons is vastly enhanced by having a bit more of you to love, as it were, and somewhat diminished if I am obliged to acquaint myself too closely with your skeletal features, you are correct." He prevented any immediate reply on her part by taking her tongue hostage.

"You honestly prefer this flab to a nice, flat stomach?" she asked...once he let her up for air. Her venom at being fed back into squishiness was rapidly draining away. In fact, it was quite possibly being sucked out her earlobe.

"Mm hmm." His hands and lips roamed over every sumptuous curve as he hummed affirmatively against her neck. "So soft... so warm and inviting." These muffled remarks were addressed to the hollow between her breasts.

"So much more of a pillow for your nose," she couldn't resist interrupting with a giggle.

He pulled back to glare at her, but she followed and kissed the aforementioned appendage. "I'll concede that you truly prefer a chubby wife," she said, "if you promise you'll believe me when I say I find my husband-to-be dangerously sexy and incredibly manly... in every feature."

After a good hour of mutual persuasion along those lines, Hermione was fairly well convinced that Severus did, indeed, prefer her soft and curvy. And if Severus had any lingering doubts about how manly his wife-to-be considered him, well... she put those to bed quite handily. It went so well they decided to hold the debate all over again, until enough time had elapsed that some dinner was in order. Severus' stomach was about to insist on it when Hermione beat him to it.

"I suppose if we're going through with this whole marriage thing, I should eat something...otherwise you won't find me appealing anymore."

"As much as I would like to oblige your feeble attempt at provoking yet another argument and more make-up sex, I'm too hungry to do a proper job of it."

"I wonder, at what point will you decide I'm too fat and start trying to change me again?"

"You are not fat! Quit talking absolute rubbish. I am not attracted to stick figures. I have never had the desire to court a Bowtruckle...or Trelawney," he said irritably.

"Ah. Professor Sprout was more your type?" She couldn't resist teasing.

Severus shot her a pained look. "There is such a thing as too much of a good thing."

Hermione laughed. "All right, I give up. Come to the kitchen and we'll figure out what to make for dinner. Oh, and while we're at it, we need to decide when we're going to visit my parents. They're quite keen to meet you, and we can start planning the wedding and reception!" Hermione practically skipped downstairs, her dressing gown fluttering beckoningly behind her.

Severus flopped back against the pillow and gazed after her in dismay, ignoring her flirty summons in the face of that unfortunate reminder. Suddenly, he wasn't very hungry any more.

---

Five months ago...

On the walk from the Apparition point to her parents' home, Hermione almost convinced herself that she did not want to grab Severus' hand, Apparate home with him, and call her parents to tell them she had been exposed to some contagious magical malady at work and wouldn't be able to visit them. She wondered if she could devise something that necessitated quarantine and would allow her to postpone this meeting until the marriage was a fait accompli.

She wasn't afraid of what Mum and Dad would think or say, exactly. Her carefully written letters were sufficient preparation that they might deal with the age difference (there was a bit of a gap in their ages, after all). The 'used to be my professor' matter had been mentioned in passing, so it wouldn't be a total shock. (School had been years ago...nothing untoward there.) They were open-minded and sensible people. Hermione knew this, because her mother hadn't screamed, or fainted and dropped the phone, during the call in which she further explained the profoundly awkward 'my fiancé was almost convicted of murder' thing. And her father hadn't tried to kidnap her from work for her own good once this information had been relayed to him.

If only there were some way to ensure Severus' 'charming' side made an appearance. Unfortunately that part of him only showed its distinguished face when he felt comfortable, and judging by his closed expression, he definitely wasn't comfortable at the moment. Maybe they should have invited her parents to his...their...place, so he wouldn't feel at a disadvantage. Feeling at a disadvantage made Severus insecure, and an insecure Severus was just plain Snape. Even Hermione had trouble denying that Snape was an abrasive pain in the arse.

"Here we are," she said, trying to sound cheerful, but only achieving less strained. She could feel her smile verging on a grimace as her eyebrows made an involuntary 'for the love of God, please don't provoke anyone' expression.

This probably wasn't helping Severus in his efforts to smooth out his scowl. She hoped he was making the effort. It sort of looked like he trying to appear less grim. Then again, she was well versed in reading his facial expressions. Anyone less conversant in Snape-speak might still deem that a full-on scowl.

"Mum and Dad will like you, I promise." They were almost at the door.

"That would put them in a very select group."

Hermione, there's no need to start sweating. Or keep sweating. That was sarcastic, and dry enough to mix a martini, but not bitter. There's hope for this evening yet.

"Well, they are my parents. Don't you think that might make them rather select people?" She smiled hopefully at Severus. She dimly recalled a time when that smile seemed to have an almost magical influence on his mood.

"Possibly." His tone was neutral, but she noted with relief that his face was a little more relaxed. In the Snape-speak lexicon, that expression passed for pleasant. Maybe her smile still had a little power after all.

She tried to recall if her parents were good with foreign languages.

Mum opened the door, pleasantly handling the introductions with warmth that thawed Severus sufficiently that no residual stiffness was evident in his demeanor. Though Hermione did think he was perhaps laying it on a trifle thick by employing his best silky voice, so the simple greeting, "So nice to finally meet you, Jane," morphed into something verging on indecently smooth. It was shortly thereafter that she learned just how fierce her father could look.

In retrospect, she'd seen hints of it throughout her childhood. When the occasion demanded, there would be a subtle hardening of his hazel eyes, like ice forming on a mossy pool, his already firm voice acquiring a steel edge. But this was something new, the look of a challenge being issued or answered. Severus had obviously caught it as well, his eyes going cold in response.

"Alexander." Severus was definitely not using his 'nice' silky voice now.

"Severus." Her father bit out the name as if it tasted rather unpleasant. They were shaking hands, but it reminded Hermione alarmingly of a couple of alpha male Hippogriffs circling each other.

"Dinner's almost ready, so why don't we all sit down?" Jane's voice flickered between the men, bright and ever so slightly brittle, just enough to break that dangerous eye contact. Hermione wasn't sure whether she was taking Severus' hand to keep him from reaching for his wand, herself from running away, or (as the part of her that had asked to be sorted into Gryffindor fervently hoped) that she was doing so to bravely demonstrate their unwavering depth of their affection for each other.

Hermione decided that Mum really surpassed herself that night. Dinner was exceptional, and she managed to keep the atmosphere from succumbing to oppressive awkwardness by insisting Hermione update them on all the latest news, breakthroughs, and gossip from St. Mungo's. Jane even managed to draw Alexander and Severus into the conversation without having either of them bite the other's head off. It was civil, intelligent, and cordial. It lasted until she started serving up a lovely strawberry trifle.

"So... at what point did you notice what an exceptional young woman Hermione is?" Alexander Granger asked Snape very casually. So casually that it was quite pointedly meant to come across as, 'Did you start perving on my precious little girl while she was still in school?'

The alarm bells in Hermione's head were not nearly loud enough to drown out the pounding of her heart, especially when she saw Severus' face ice over. Except for that vein. Uh-oh.

"I assure you, my romantic interest in Hermione did not begin until we met again a little over a year ago. During the time she was a student in my care, I would never have considered her an adult and potential lover...regardless of her age." Severus' expression was downright balmy compared to his voice. The Antarctic was downright balmy compared to his voice, and it suddenly struck Hermione that his fork was poised very menacingly over that innocent little strawberry, and she thought now would be a very good time to do something.

"Dad..." she began.

"Alex, don't you think it's about time we mentioned some things about our courtship?"

Mum interrupted in the voice she'd always used just before sending Hermione up to her room and 'discussing' something with Dad. He didn't say anything but there was something oddly familiar about the closed look on his face.

Hermione had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

"Hermione, dear... did I ever tell you exactly how your father and I met?"

"You've always told me you were both at dental school."

"Yes, well... You know that there is ten years' difference in our ages. And your father was far, far from being a slow student. Nor did he decide to enter the profession later in life."

Hermione didn't dare sneak a look at Severus. But somehow she sensed he, too, was blinking owlishly at Jane.

"Mum... Are you trying to tell me...?"

"When we met, I was a student. He was an assistant professor. Essentially, I married my teacher."

And that put paid to that topic.

From there on, most of the conversation took place between Hermione and Jane. Severus and Alexander tossed out wittily dry observations on occasion and watched each other as if waiting for a sign of weakness. Inevitably, wedding details came up.

"Our wedding was small. Quiet. Just a Registry Office affair, you know. I've always hoped for something a little better for you...more special, more memorable."

Hermione choked on the words that a quiet visit to the Registry Office was exactly what they had in mind. Her mother's yearning tone of voice had her tongue-tied even as Severus' hand, which was applying increasing pressure on hers, was insisting she speak. She was fairly certain the pressure meant 'Better means expensive. Special and memorable mean fussy, replete with people I'd rather not deal with, and did I mention much, much more expensive?'

Sometimes, Hermione thought, it might be nice if Severus had slightly less expressive hands.

"I mean, it needn't be a huge affair...but a church wedding would be ever so nice, and you could wear your grandmother's wedding dress!"

Alex felt the need to comment at this point. "If she's going to wear your mother's dress, she'll certainly need magic. The woman was a good head shorter than our Hermione and built like a brick sh..."

Jane's exclamation of 'Alex!' vied with Hermione's 'Dad!' to drown out the last bit of the sentence while Severus stifled a laugh.

That brief detour aside, Jane Granger did not falter in her pursuit of this hypothetical wedding that 'needn't be a huge affair'. It was quite obvious to anyone within hearing distance from which parent Hermione had gotten her tendency to target an issue and cling to it with the tenacity of a bulldog.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Mum, I don't think we really want to go to all that expense."

"Oh, it won't be so bad, my dear. Besides, your father and I will be happy to pay for it."

It was as if the pained crinkle forming in the middle of Severus' forehead magically transferred to Alexander's.

"Just how 'special' are we talking about?" Plainly, the Alexander Granger Lexicon possessed several terms in common with the Severus Snape Lexicon.

It was also quite obvious that the date of the wedding was being pushed back to allow for something substantially more involved than a quick trip to the registrar.

By the time she and Severus took their leave, two things were established: this was going to be a much bigger deal than originally intended, and Jane Granger was the only person inclined to pay for it. Hermione was expecting an argument about the wedding as soon as they got home. Before they Apparated, she wondered if they'd make it past the kitchen before Severus pitched a wobbly.

Nope. They'd barely finished whirling when his voice shivered the tile. "Did it not occur to you that I might feel...shall we say, 'awkward'...upon discovering that your father is a tall, thin chap with a largish nose and a rather acerbic sense of humor?"

This was not the argument she expected. "No! I mean, aside from that, you're nothing alike!"

"Only if you neglect to take into account courting younger women over whom we once held a position of authority." That was all he said, but his expression spoke volumes.

Hermione could feel her face purpling. "I DO NOT have an Electra complex!"

She continued to protest all the way to bed. Where they only slept. This condition persisted for the rest of that week, until the wedding planning began in earnest and Severus exchanged that bee in his bonnet for the one she'd expected, pertaining to the fuss and expense of having a 'real' wedding.

Oh, well. At least they were having sex again.

---

Four months ago...

Snape had taken to hiding in his lab when wedding plans were discussed.

Once again, baby spiders had taken up residence in the mouth of the cauldron he planned to use. Snape collected their tentative little webs for use in potions with one spell, and carefully floated the spiders themselves out the basement window with another. He would have been embarrassed for anyone to discover that he never killed the little buggers. They weren't ingredients in anything he commonly made, and his mother had always had a sort of 'live and let kill the more noxious multi-legged beasties' policy towards spiders. He saw no cause to discontinue it.

He didn't really think Hermione had an Electra complex. He hoped not. It was common knowledge that women tend to subconsciously look for men who remind them of their fathers on some level... right? Besides, he was certain he'd never be quite as annoying as Alexander Granger. One hoped the man was less of a sarcastic bastard around his patients.

More worrisome was the fact that planning the wedding seemed to be turning his fiancée into someone who actually cared about the color of flowers that were not being used in a potion. Since Snape couldn't bring himself to care about such things even under threat of Cruciatus, he decided that staying out of it altogether would mean less stress on Hermione, whose face was beginning to look as frazzled as her hair. He did not want a repeat of her final exam meltdown. Once it was established that he and Hermione, having already purchased their rings, were only paying for their wedding robes (or Muggle formal clothes...the choice changed about every other week), he stepped back and resolved to find out the rest when he arrived at the ceremony.

However, with Jane, Luna, and Ginny acting as 'consultants' (why Hermione had let those last two in on it he would never figure out) it was a little hard not to hear about it. Did women suddenly lose all volume control when planning a social event?

"It's going to take at least two months before those are in bloom. Maybe you should push the date back, just a little."

"But that caterer you liked won't be available then."

"What about this one?"

"They have house elves working for them!"

"Oh, no, not THAT again."

"Okay, push it back about one week more and everything should work."

"What about the venue?"

"Uh-oh... this doesn't look good."

"Bloody hell. I think we need to re-book everything... again."

He decided that the next time the Wedding Planning Committee met, he'd spell the door to his lab so that not even that much information would filter through.

---

Three Months Ago...

Hermione was starting to miss Severus. He seemed to disappear so frequently that she was sure a careful survey of their dating patterns would reveal they'd spent more time together when they lived in separate homes, with no plans on getting married and the better part of the island between them.

At least she didn't have to feel she was chasing him out of the house or into his basement lab to escape wedding talk today. Instead, she was desperately wishing she could escape the bridal shower Mum had insisted on hosting for her. Hermione was exhausted with the unsuccessful effort to include Severus in the wedding plans, to the point where she'd actually enlisted Ginny and Luna to grant her two extra chances to veto her mother's more excessive suggestions. (It helped that Ginny's presence made her the 'Official Weasley Involved With This Project' and thus kept Molly at bay.) It had backfired like one of Seamus' experimental Charms. It turned out that Ginny's apparent nonchalance towards long-term relationships and Luna's apparent contentment with the non-married, non-engaged status quo between her and Harry were just façades covering a deep well of desire to orchestrate The Perfect Wedding.

And for some reason...perhaps a combination of actually wanting a bit more than just the quick trip to the Registrar's Office, not wanting to turn into her parents altogether, and just plain wanting to finally be married, whatever that took...Hermione couldn't bring herself to say no to any of it.

The inanities were winding down and Hermione had to admit, a couple of hours of playing some of the most ridiculous party games known to human kind was a small price to pay for such nice gifts. She was preparing to bid the guests goodbye and gratefully escape back home (amazing how that gloomy hole by the river felt like home, knowing it was where her fiancé and her familiar were both waiting for her) when the phone rang.

Jane Granger answered, and after only a few words exchanged, caught Hermione's eye. She clearly mouthed, 'Don't let anyone leave until I'm done,' and went back to the conversation.

Hermione wondered why she was suddenly filled with a sense of impending doom. When the receiver finally clicked back into place, the apologetic smile from her mother only confirmed the premonition.

"Dear, your Father and I are going to a conference in Austria in July, and a friend has offered the use of their home for the full two weeks after. I hate to ask you to push the date of the wedding back, but it's been so long since we've had a proper holiday..."

It would have been very cathartic to scream just then. For an entire laundry list of reasons, Hermione refrained from doing so, apologized to the guests, and asked them to please wait just a few minutes so she could update them on the revised wedding date. It was a good thing she couldn't hear her unofficial wedding planners checking their schedules and making changes.

Ginny nudged Luna and whispered out the corner of her mouth, "If it's that weekend, we might be stuck with the business that uses house-elves."

Luna sighed and gave Ginny an unusually readable look. "I'm not telling her that."

"Me, neither."

---

One Month Ago...

It was a mercy that magical tailoring took so little time. After three months of mind-changing and a lost deposit that still had Severus fuming, they'd finally decided to go to Patil Sisters Couture for wedding clothes that followed the latest trend...combining features of traditional robes with current wedding fashions in the Muggle world.

To be accurate, she had decided. Severus still had his head in his...cauldron...when it came to making decisions about the wedding.

"Hermione!" Padma hugged her before she quite got in the door and shook Severus' hand in an almost equally effusive greeting. "Come right in; I'll set up a space for you."

Severus gave Hermione a questioning look, to which she responded by mouthing 'later'. Flora Randolph was a good friend and colleague, but she'd let slip (while administering Parvati's physical therapy) that Hermione had been deeply involved in the research that had led to the breakthrough in her twin's treatment. Padma had concluded Hermione was responsible for her beloved sister finally recovering enough from her war injuries to participate in the business in more than name. Hence, they were being granted the full 'auditioning for the Royal Warrant treatment' (which Hermione felt they didn't quite deserve considering the price range they were shopping in).

Of course, that level of deference made Severus happy...okay, more agreeably resigned, but she'd take what she could get...so she smiled weakly at Padma and didn't object. With elegant gestures, Padma performed the Charms that partitioned a bit of the store into a soundproof fitting room.

Considering how particular he was being about their robes, Hermione wondered if Severus' voluntary exile from wedding planning wasn't for the best.

"Why can't your robes be the turquoise color you wore on our first date?"

"I'm using it in the decorations," she said. "Um, what about this?" She held an ivory robe to her front. Her mother could deal with her marrying her older ex-professor but it would be an uphill battle explaining a wedding gown that wasn't some permutation of white. Even if the symbolism was utterly inappropriate, considering she and Severus were living together (and then some) well before the wedding.

Snape acquired his 'closed' look. "It's not like you'll blend in with them and disappear."

"What about these?" Padma Summoned a variety of very pale pastels. She was far more diplomatic than Parvati had ever been, but her fleeting expression hinted ever so gently that unmitigated white did nothing for Hermione's complexion. The newly summoned range also suggested her comprehension of mother-of-the-bride psychology, evoking white.

The choice was narrowed to a range of styles in blue shades when the door chimed. Padma Charmed the robes to parade themselves through the fitting area before excusing herself to greet other customers.

Severus immediately slipped an arm around Hermione. "The room is soundproof." He raised an eyebrow seductively.

"Are you out of your mind?" Hermione imagined she looked fish-like at the moment, but she simply couldn't get her mouth closed.

"Miss Patil will knock before re-entering." She assumed he meant that figuratively, since the room was comprised entirely of Charmed drapes. In no time he had her up against the one solid wall and was taking full advantage of her open mouth.

Eventually, they had to come up for air. "You are out of your mind! We're supposed to be choosing robes!"

Severus glanced at a quite nice if slightly conservative set, earthy dark turquoise for him and the complementary pastel shade thereof for her, and marked them with his wand. "Robes chosen. Tell me you don't want this, and I'll stop." He curled his hands just so under her backside and lifted her into the perfect position for a quick shag against the wall.

"No fair," she whimpered, before kissing him back...hard...and cooperating fully with his efforts to slide her skirt up. It had been double shifts at the hospital the past week, and damn, she'd missed this.

Obviously Severus felt the same way. Within minutes, they were both very glad of the soundproofing on the curtains. "Just a bit more, love," she panted, willing him to stay hard long enough that she could reach that moment when the earth moved. With a sharp gasp and an even sharper bite to his shoulder, she did.

Then, with a massive crash, the earth really did move. Or at least, the curtain hiding them did.

It may have been some time since he'd dueled, but there was nothing wrong with Severus' reflexes. He had his wand out and both of them behind one of the still-floating robes (to hide anything that might be, er, left hanging) before either of their breathing could return to normal.

Hermione recognized the fabric-covered human missile first.

"Tonks!"

"Wotcher, Hermione!" More sounds of fabric ripping

"What are you doing here?" It came out a little more accusing than Hermione would have liked, but she was a little put out at having a tulle-and-curtain swaddled Tonks sprawled at her feet while she was still completely flushed and perfumed with the smell of sex.

"Demolishing the establishment, by the look of things." It didn't take a Ravenclaw to conclude that Snape was less than thrilled. Hermione only hoped that no one else had figured out it was because he was being forced to furtively tuck himself back in with only a floating formal garment to hide behind and simply assumed it was all due to the presence of Tonks and Lupin.

"It's good to see you too, Severus." Hermione had the awful feeling that Remus had figured out exactly what had been going on, and that it had very little to do with deciding the cut of their robes.

This did nothing for Snape's mood. "Lupin. Tonks, taking your pet for his walksies, are you?"

"Mmmph...!" Tonks' indignant response was muffled in the curtain, which had apparently launched a counteroffensive as she attempted to squirm free.

"Severus..." Hermione kept her voice soft so only he could hear the warning note in it. She didn't need for them to have a public row.

"Actually, Dora and I are shopping for our wedding robes," Remus explained, patiently untangling Tonks from the much-abused curtain. He seemed to have the obscure spell that accomplished this task down pat.

"Oh Remus! What a wonderful coincidence!" For the first time in a while, Hermione felt a bit excited about her own upcoming nuptials. "That's why we're here!"

"So I see. Thanks very much for the invitation, by the way. We might be just a bit late, though...our appointment at the Registry Office is earlier the same morning."

"Any particular reason for that date?" Severus definitely sounded accusing, and he wasn't bothering to hide it.

"We don't have a great deal of leeway with regards to where and how. Between regulations regarding civil marriages and Dangerous Magical Creature legislation, we're just grateful we can be married at all." Tonks had finally gotten upright. Clearly this was a sore topic for her; she didn't sound anything like her usual cheerful self.

Severus muttered something uncomplimentary. Hermione nudged him none too gently and whispered, "What's wrong with you? Usually you're in a better mood after we..."

"Hermione!" His glare put the exclamation mark on the end of her name, though it barely escaped from between his clenched teeth.

Obviously neither of them was quiet enough.

Tonks' face acquired an expression of comprehension. "I always wondered about that."

"Dora!" Remus sounded scandalized.

"It's okay for you to smirk knowingly, but not okay for me to mention it outright?"

All the while, Padma flicked and swished with a vengeance, putting to rights the carnage Tonks had caused. She was simultaneously trying desperately to cover her blush and to avoid hearing ANY of this discussion. Her professional aplomb badly eroded by the incident, she refrained from offering any further advice or suggestions as she accepted the robes Severus had selected offhandedly and set them aside with the proper tailoring notations. The deposit was paid hastily and the goodbyes were hurried.

"Well. At least you finally made some input into our wedding."

Severus shot her his patented death glare by way of reply, and went into a profound sulk for the next few weeks. Hermione was so exhausted that she couldn't quite bring herself to cry. Or care.

---

Earlier that day...

"They can change their wedding date."

"You know very well they can't. The wedding and the honeymoon have to be timed to avoid the full moon, and asking them to put it off again would just be cruel, considering how long they've had to fight all manner of petty legal obstacles to get married."

"I will NOT be upstaged by the werewolf!"

"It's not upstaging, Severus! Theirs is in the morning, ours in the afternoon so guests who are invited to both can come to both."

"No. I am not sharing our anniversary with those two. Let's have our wedding a week earlier."

"I told you, that won't work. My parents won't be back from holiday until two days before the wedding. We can't have it before then, we simply can't move up all the preparations. There is, however, a perfectly good week AFTER that in which we may have a DELIGHTFUL wedding. Problem solved!" Her sarcasm was impressive. She was, after all, an apt pupil...privately tutored by an all-time master of the art.

"He doesn't get to be married before I do!"

Hermione flung her hands up in a furious gesture of dismissal. "I give up...on this entire enterprise! Evidently you're not of age to be married, since YOU ARE ACTING LIKE A THREE-YEAR-OLD!"

Severus did not appreciate criticism at the best of times, and this was not the best of times. So much so that the most mature response he could manage was, "I AM NOT!"

Clearly, it was not the response the witch in front of him wanted to hear. Snape reflected that whomever claimed that women are beautiful when they are angry must have been raised in a remote monastery somewhere far from any female, much less a shouting fiancée. Of course, he still loved Hermione, but she definitely wasn't beautiful when she was angry. Splotchy, yes; disturbing, a little; impressive, only if she wasn't angry with him. But not beautiful.

And suddenly, she was shaking and looking that odd combination of furious, scary, and vulnerable he remembered from the night he finally proposed. It disturbed him terribly to think how close they'd come to losing it all that night.

Evidently it showed in his face, because she went from mostly furious to mostly vulnerable as she looked at him. "Severus, I don't want to give up."

"Neither do I, Hermione." He was half-past caring how needy that sounded. Hermione was the only person on earth who made it difficult for him to be sulky and obstinate, no matter how her propensity for being hot-tempered and obstinate provoked him. "Why don't you relax in the bath a bit, and we'll talk about this in our room?"

"Sitting up or lying down?" she asked, her eyes slightly wary.

"Sitting to start with, but I wouldn't be averse to ending up the other way if the discussion proceeds well."

She snorted at him. "Prat."

"Silly witch."

"I never knew anyone could sneer affectionately until I met you."

"Oh, shut up and kiss me."

She gave him a little shove when he tried to deepen it past a peck on the lips, but softened it with a forgiving smile. "Let me bathe and get in a better mood, first."

He wasn't about to argue with anything that put her in a better mood.

Snape made himself comfortable on the bed, pretending to lounge and read while he was actually watching Hermione change into her dressing gown and gather up towels. The water was already running by magical command in the tiny bathroom, and he decided one of their goals should be to acquire a house with a nice, luxurious bathroom adjoining their bedroom. That way Hermione would feel comfortable dispensing with that tatty old gown. He much preferred seeing her in her nice young skin, a thought which made his eyelids droop in an agreeably drowsy fashion as he fashioned it into a daydream.

His reverie was interrupted by an oddly quavering cry. "Severus?"

"What is it, love?"

"What is a Kappa doing in our bathtub?"

Snape was exceedingly tired, which was his only defense for his subsequent remark when Hermione hearkened back to the incident in later years. "Isn't the classic answer something along the lines of 'the backstroke?'" he asked hazily.

"Seriously, Severus...THERE IS A KAPPA IN OUR BATHTUB!"

There were more dangerous creatures abroad in the world than Kappas, and Hermione was more than capable of dealing with one. But there should not have been one in their bathtub, and it occurred to Severus that his love might not be carrying her wand. It took very little time to think this and even less time to grab his own wand and come charging to her rescue.

What he found was a creature, which could only be characterized as the sad sack of all Kappa-dom. Even its ashy-bluish scales, stringy greenish hair, muddy greenish shell, and assorted yellow snaggly teeth protruding from its beak-like mouth couldn't detract from the forlorn earnestness in those rather ghastly glowing eyes. The soap bubbles in the water-filled depression on the top of its head only added to the sheer absurdity of the creature's appearance. Which was most likely why Hermione was staring at it, her dressing gown clutched shut with one hand and her wand tentatively raised at the pitiful creature with the other, instead of just Stunning it.

A shriek from downstairs rent the silence.

"MOTO! Moto, you crazy fucker, where the hell are you? I said we were 'poof'-ing into the parlor!"

Snape groaned. He knew that voice.

The creature in the tub called out in response, "I am upstairs, O-Reggie-San. I believe I have met your godchild." With that, he turned his attention to Severus and Hermione again, bowed, dumped water from the top of his head, wobbled weakly, and quickly replaced it by scooping up bubbly bathwater with a little bamboo ladle.

"Please do not be alarmed, Hermione-san. I am Motoyoshi, humble apprentice to the honorable Regina Fletcher. I solemnly assure you, my diet consists entirely of cucumbers and other vegetable matter. I have no desire whatsoever to consume small children or human body parts. Truly, rumors of vampirism can be terribly injurious."

"You don't say," Snape muttered. He was really trying to be shocked that the rude little silver and pink menace had brought this sickeningly polite monstrosity into his house. He failed miserably; for some reason, it made an awful sort of ironic sense.

Hermione was evidently still having too much trouble processing the presence of the interloper in their tub to address it directly, so she turned to the panting silvery Jarvey who had just darted into the room.

"Your apprentice is a Kappa?"

Reggie sighed. "Long story, mija."

"Since I imagine there's no way to avoid hearing it, shall we move this discussion to the parlor? I want somewhere comfortable to sit, and my experiences with you and plumbing have been less than unmitigated pleasures, to say the least." Snape and Reggie exchanged dour looks, but to his surprise, she didn't offer a single word of dissent. Or profanity.

With that, everyone went downstairs to explain to Reggie what had been causing the wedding date to fluctuate so wildly over the past half a year. Reggie had a few things to say as well; but she never got around to explaining what, exactly, the Kappa was doing in the bathtub.

---

Author's Notes:

Reggie's Spanish Vocabulary:

Mija: A contraction of 'mi hija'= 'my daughter'

For those curious to learn more about Moore and Mraz, Magical Jewelers, see the tale 'The Ring On Her Finger', a companion piece to the Fairy God-Jarvey series. In fact, that might be an excellent contribution to your enjoyment of this story.

Thanks to Azrael, whose artwork entitled 'Fantasy Snape' inspired the awkward little scene with Hermione's parents! Cryptic little comment, isn't it?

Ravenclaw can thank MlleGigi for ten points--she did the research and make a very educated guess that little Moto-chan is, in fact, a Kappa.

As you can probably tell, I don't bother much about J.K. Rowling's image of Jarveys or Kappas. Reggie is capable of true conversation rather than rote repetition of rude phrases, never mind her magical powers. Motoyoshi is adapted from Japanese folklore, in which Kappas are usually dangerous but also fundamentally honorable, profoundly polite, and just as capable of befriending and aiding a human as they are of sucking out their life essence. The 'friendly' Kappa appears in modern Japanese cartoons, drawn to appear cute and turtle-like; however, in some parts of Japan, the existence of dangerous Kappas is still taken seriously, and warning signs are posted near 'Kappa-occupied' bodies of water.

Also missing from Potterverse facts on Kappas is the bit of traditional information that Kappas are prone to flatulence and are thus the source of the disagreeable odor of the swampy places in which they live. The expression 'Kappa no he' is used in Japan to refer to something very common or prevalent. It literally translates as 'A Kappa's fart.'

Moto means 'origin' or 'source' (when used in Japanese male names). Yoshi is a wonderful word with numerous potential meanings, including 'courageous', 'happy', 'good to others', variations on 'fine/splendid/good', 'fortunate', and last but not least, 'fragrant'...depending upon which kanji character is used to write it. Feel free to interpret the Kappa's name in whatever fashion brings you optimal amusement!

And while you're at it, feel free to come up with a punch line explaining what a Kappa would be doing in a bathtub.